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muckamoos · 2 years
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Host An Amazing Winter Wonderland Theme Party With Star Cushion
Ready to take your winter wonderland theme party to the next level with some eye-catching star cushion decor? You are reading the perfect article. Here are some amazing tips and tricks to bring the winter wonderland into your holidays through amazing decorations without worrying about the cold weather. We all know decorations play a very important role in any party. So, what are you waiting for? Give your guests an amazing trip to wonderland with a touch of glimpse and glitter through your magical decor. Read more: https://www.blogbangboom.com/blog/host-an-amazing-winter-wonderland-theme-party-with-star-cushion
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killuaisaprincess · 10 months
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🍓🎄✨👑
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purplevampiredoll · 9 months
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tokidoki pin <3
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rain-bowss · 2 years
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toadtoru · 2 months
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putting pretty pink ribbons on satoru
contents: gn!reader, smut, minors and ageless do not interact!
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it’s ridiculous, really. but you saw some girl do it on tiktok, and now you can’t help but imagine how pretty he would look with the pink against his flushed skin. how his biceps would tense as you run your nails down the muscle, how the pretty ribbon would strain and create little red marks on his arms.
which is why you promptly go to the gift section next time you’re out shopping, buying 3 meters of ribbon for a dollar.
and satoru loves it. like, really proper loves it. you tie one around each of his arms, one around his slutty waist topping it off with bows and he’s obsessed.
now, whenever he has upset you, or he feels he’s waited too long for you to come home, or really at whatever minor reason he can come up with, he “wraps” himself up and waits for you like a lovely little gift.
and you indulge him, because how could you not? sitting in his lap, calling him a pretty present, slowly unwrapping him. it’s not long before you’re pushed onto the couch, pressed into the cushions, getting fucked out of your mind.
drool everywhere, eyes helplessly rolling back, tight little hole squelching as each thrust of satoru’s cock, his pelvis against your ass, pushes you closer towards the edge.
ribbon once around satoru’s bicep, now tied around your wrists, keeping your hands behind your back. you reach for his stomach, trying to push him back, get him to slow down, your walls clenching around the intrusion, but it all feels so good.
coherent speech long out the window, reducing you to a babbling mess, crying out pleas and little thank you’s as your orgasm is ripped out of you, causing your entire body to shake.
satoru whines, ribbon still tied around his waist, as he comes deep inside you.
“this is what you wanted, right, baby? fuck, my p– present for you.” he stutters, as he empties himself inside of you, before pulling out and watching his cum drip out of your abused little hole.
-> divider by plutism
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shotmrmiller · 4 months
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the tale of how simon got himself a gf without stepping a foot outside of base.
anyone can tell you that alcohol reduces the ability to use logic. to see reason. it lowers inhibitions and blurs the boundary lines you've drawn in the sand.
but indulging in drink tonight is justified. you're in need of reprieve after this shit week: broke up with your boyfriend, deadlines at work appearing out of thin air, a flat tire on your morning commute. you even stepped on the end of your cat's tail.
miserable. (she's okay, just giving you the cold shoulder. you'll buy her some tasty snacks tomorrow.)
but for tonight, you're wallowing in your own misery. some uninteresting show is playing on the television, you're cradled by the cushions of your couch, a fluffy sherpa throw over your socked feet.
if only there was a way to melt this week's accumulated stress away even further.
cue the drunk texting your ex cliché.
anyone can tell you that it's detrimental to moving on. it's akin to reopening a wound that's already begun to heal. a step back when you should only be moving forward. your friends would drag you by your hair for being so dumb.
but there's an incessant throb in between your legs that's only getting stronger with every glass of wine you toss back. you're wound tight, violin strings stretched to the brink. a couple of bow strokes away from snapping.
you'll deal with the consequences tomorrow, along with your hangover.
typing in his (deleted in a fit of heartbroken rage) number with fumbling fingers and send a picture of you with the hem of your sleeping shirt between your teeth, the swell of your bare breasts on full display with a cheeky little missing you <3
he responds in minutes even though it's 2:30am.
send a vid and show me how much you miss me.
it makes your pussy clench around nothing, already slick, drooling, begging to be filled. you sink your teeth into your bottom lip as you bring up the camera.
when simon first gets the text, he's on edge, gripping his phone hard enough to crack. no one should have this number except for price, johnny and kyle. he's made sure of it-- had laswell pull strings to give him a secure line. no scam likely's, no cold calls, nothing.
but then some silly little bird dials his number by mistake and the sweet cherry on top is that you've sent a nude. breasts on full display-- soft looking, hard peaked. it makes his mouth water, his gums itch. he'd love to sink his teeth into them, into you, hard enough to bruise. mark. claim.
but that's for later, once he finds you.
he texts back and what you send him in response fattens his cock. a small hand tucked beneath the waistband of your flimsy knickers, gusset dampened with warm arousal. you lick your bottom lip, leaving it glossy with spit. your chest heaves with the sharp gasps of breath you're drawing.
but there's a problem. he can barely see what you're doing. he doesn't have x-ray vision, your knickers are in the way. while he can understand the allure, he himself doesn't have the patience for it. either you let him see your bare cunt or don't waste his time.
he wasn't expecting you to agree this fast. maybe a bit of push back, a little snapping of teeth until you relent but no. you're an obedient thing. submissive. just how he likes 'em. (if he wants to break someone in, that's what johnny's for.)
soft, inviting thighs spread wide, a couple of fingers curling inside your glistening cunt. (duly noticing how your 2 fingers are the size of 1 of his.) your moans spill from your lips unreservedly when you roll your pearl in tight, precise little circles. he spits on his hand, heavy length resting in his calloused palm and tugs himself at the pace you've set: jerky, quick, messy.
you come with a whimper, eyes shut and pliant body coiled tight. a frothy, sticky cream coats your fingers, dripping down to your arse, pooling on your couch.
you miss me too? sent 3:27 am
(he decides to keep you. simon can't remember the last time he's had a climax that spine stiffening in a while.)
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Enhance Comfort and Style with Boston Whaler Cushions
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moondirti · 1 month
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can i say something crazy? cw: piss. nasty stuff
simon who has absolutely no respect for his bird's privacy.
comes back home from work; all sweaty and churlish and dour, soot caked on his face and hands, welder boots announcing his arrival in heavy, lazy footsteps. he doesn't call for you, but your gentle hey babe sounds from the bathroom anyway, half-distracted by the videos on your phone. the idea of you coddled at home since he left at dawn that morning — cushioned in bed until late, one hand in a bowl of cherries on ice that still drips condensation over your nightstand, the other pushing a new record for screen time on tiktok, the lengths of your legs all soft, bitten, exposed in set of flimsy shorts, cooled by the fan overhead, all ready evidence to why he puts up with as much shit as he does — drives him a little mad to think about. stokes a hunger in him, a mix of pride and masculinity and possessiveness that has him pushing into the room. despite the fact that his needs aren't urgent, not pressing enough to justify this.
this — standing right before you, so that your manicured toes kiss his leather soles. saying nothing as he unbuckles his belt, gruff, quiet, completely uninterested in addressing your concerns when you look up at him with those squinted eyes. it isn't above simon to make you suck him off while you're on the toilet, and really you wouldn't mind, but you get the sense that isn't what this is when he knocks your legs apart with his knees. little fuss to the action, little reaction to your spread pussy.
his cock bounces out about eye level with you. soft. nonetheless hefty and thick and large, bowing down even as he wraps a rough palm around its base. he can see the revelation find you in real time when he places his free hand on the wall behind you. the cresting arch of your brows. the grimace mangling your cheeks. the prissy pout of your lips. if he weren't so exhausted, he might have it in him to take your face right there. it's just the right combination of horror and fascination to get him going.
"simon noooo," you whine, throwing your phone somewhere, scrambling back until you can't anymore, porcelain tank pressing flush to your back. "just wait your turn. please!"
"'nuff of tha'. shush now." he huffs, chuckling a bit when he realises that you only made things worse for yourself by leaning away. your hips now jut out, cunt propped centre of the bowl.
there's no shyness, no stall on the release. his piss comes out in one, hot stream, washing right on target to hit your little clit. you shake your head, so disgusted with him he knows he'll have to make it up later. still, you do nothing to discourage it, sitting in place like a good pet, only occasionally tensing your legs against the steaming shower. some splashes on your belly, some on your thighs and the rim, yet it's never ending. you wonder if he planned this all day, held in the four cans of san pellegrino you packed for his lunch, just so he could give them back to you.
you just don't realise that not all of it is his.
"sad t'be missin' out on th' fun?" simon mocks, finally pulling away. he shakes the last of it off his cock, swiping a hand over his tip, before tucking himself back in. you blink, look down, and realise that somewhere along the lines, you started peeing too.
and have yet to stop.
"it's natural!" you wail, squeezing your pelvis floor in a last ditch attempt to save your dignity. it's no use. having started, it's near impossible to stop. your necks discovers a new type of heat in the humiliation, burn licking its way up your face. your ears tuck into your shoulder.
"yeah, yeah." he patiently waits for you to finish, cupping a hand under your elbow to keep you upright as you stand on fawn legs. his lips are paper thin, fleeting, when they press fondly to your temple. "now off to th' shower w'ya."
your nose crinkles. "you know you need one more than i do, right?"
"and wha's a shared bath?"
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celestiamour · 2 months
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ft. logan howlett x f! reader — xmen, marvel
╰₊✧ tying bows onto logan’s hair tufts┊0.4k words
setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: tooth-rotting fluff, size/height difference, wade’s pov
➤ author's note: i have a logan smut in the works right now, but i don’t feel like writing the nasty bits so fluff in the meantime!!
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as wade wandered into the kitchen to grab a snack, he came across the strangest sight in the living room that made him tilt his head and question everything he knew. sitting on the worn-away leather sofa were you and logan next to each other with the television playing some romance movie you probably picked out, which is completely normal, but you were kneeling on the couch cushions leaning on his shoulder fiddling with his hair tufts and attaching what looked like bows on them. not just any bows though, the big frilly pink ones with charms glued onto the fabric and tight rubberbands that tug on your scalp for children.
it’s always comical to watch you two beside each other since he has such a hulking figure that towers over you, but watching you tie something so dainty and girlish to someone who is the complete opposite was hysterical. although he seemed disgruntled and like he would have preferred to be anywhere than here, there was a certain softness in his brown eyes that was making an exception for you when you giggled, told him how cute he looked, and the significance that the bows had in your youth of playing dress-up.
god, he’s so smitten with you, when was he finally going to ask you out? logan howlett who had such an unapproachable aura, a sharp tongue that swore like a sailor, and adamantium claws embedded in his hands was sitting pretty for you to play with his scruffy brown locks like one of those massive barbie doll heads. the perfect example of “tough guy with a soft spot for a specific girl” unfolding right before him, he would be a fool not to mischievously snap a photo for blackmail purposes!
the shutter sound went off as he forgot to turn it on silent, but wade was safe either way since if peanut ran at him, you would fall over without him to support you while you leaned on his frame. all he could do was grunt a “shut the fuck up” before both of you laughed at him. you never asked for the accessories back, so he ends up keeping them among his possessions and also steals one of the many copies printed of that photo to keep in his wallet to gaze at fondly.
he’s never beating the “madly in love” allegations.
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aegonstradwife · 2 months
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exposure therapy | aemond targaryen x reader
summary: anonymous requested; you and aemond were recently married. you're afraid of him, but aemond goes to great lengths to show you he's not that scary.
warnings: excessive use of ellipses, #1 wife lover aemond targaryen, brief mention of childhood trauma, smut. (fingering, face riding, oral.)
a. note:link to the original request.
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As Aemond's new wife, it's surprising how little time you spend together. The servants whisper about it around every corner; how you skulk through the halls hoping to avoid him, how nearly every meal you take is apart from each other.
But there's a very good reason for this, one that you've never admitted to anyone.
You are terrified of him.
Even at night, you might share the same bed, but it's big enough that you can sleep soundly without ever once touching him. Although even that was difficult at first; those first few nights you dreaded climbing into bed with him and got nearly no sleep at all.
He is so much bigger, and much stronger, than you. He really could do anything he wanted to you and you would have no chance of fighting him off.
Eventually, however, Aemond's still body beside yours throughout the night, you realized he either wouldn't, or didn't want to, touch you. And finally you were able to get some sleep.
But now, though sleep comes much more easily and your nights are no longer fraught with peril at the thought of him forcing himself upon you, it still doesn't mean you have any desire to be around him.
And you thought he felt much the same. Until tonight.
Aemond is already comfortable on the settee by the window, reading, when you retire to your shared bedchamber for the night.
Hells bent as usual on ignoring him, you busy yourself with removing your shoes in front of the wardrobe.
"Come. Sit with me."
In the quiet of the room, Aemond's sudden, uncharacteristic, voice makes you jump, going very still. His tone is soft; now that you think on it, you've heard Aemond's voice very few times, either before or after you were married.
In your mind, the few times you had heard him speak, you remember him sounding like a complete barbarian. Not this lilting, almost melodic, softness....
Straightening, you nervously smooth the skirts of your dress down over your thighs. Aemond's silhouette is stark against the candles guttering on the windowsill.
You gulp, starting to tiptoe toward him, but stopping at the opposite arm of the settee. "Do I have to?" You ask quietly, and even that takes every ounce of courage in your weary body.
This is probably as close as you've ever been to him when not in bed together at night.
"I won’t bite." Aemond's lips are quirked in a half smirk. He closes the book in his hands and sets it aside, patting the space beside him. "I assure you, I won’t hurt you. Come. Sit."
Though he had indicated the middle cushion, you sweep your skirts under you and take a seat on the one beside it, furthest from Aemond.
Normally you would have loved sitting and reading by candlelight, the cool breeze from the open windows ruffling your hair.
But now you bite your lip, heart hammering hard against your ribcage like a frightened bird.
Aemond can feel the tension radiating off of you. Your shoulders tight as a bow string, the muscles in your jaw taut, hands folded in your lap fidgeting with a loose thread on your gown.
He simple looks at you for a very long moment. Your features are delicate, almost fragile, your frame small and dainty when compared to his. To Aemond, you look very much like a porcelain doll. He has no idea how someone could be so beautiful and yet so…. breakable.
You glance nervously at him, wondering what he could possibly be thinking.
"What?" You ask, though you keep your voice low, not wanting to anger him.
"You're afraid of me," Aemond states bluntly. He leans against the back of the settee, studying you with one intense purple eye. "Why?"
You laugh aloud, unable to stop yourself. Now seems as good a time as any to tell him exactly what you've been thinking since your wedding day.
"Look at you. And look at me. You could do whatever you want to me and I wouldn't be able to stop you. Not to mention...." You shrug. "The stories about you aren't kind...."
Aemond raises an eyebrow at your laughter, that same small, wry smile never leaving his lips. He can't help but wonder if you're mocking him as he leans forward, gaze still locked with yours.
"And what do the stories say about me, little wife?" His voice is low, a dangerous, frightening edge to it.
For seemingly the first time, you look your husband in the eye. One piercing violet eye stares back, the other covered by his customary eyepatch. "They say you're a fearsome warrior, one of the strongest swordsmen alive. And they say.... they say you killed that boy. Rhaenyra's son...."
Aemond’s eye narrows. There is so much uncertainty in that gaze of yours, something about your innocent face makes Aemond feel.... bad. His jaw clenches and he leans back.
"Lucerys Velaryon. Yes, I did kill him. Though I didn't mean to.... I lost control."
"You didn't?" Your eyes narrow as well, suspicious of him. "Then.... what did you mean to do?"
Your husband lets out a long sigh and crosses his arms. "I meant to scare him. I was.... angry. I wanted to teach him a lesson, to frighten and humiliate him. And I did not have such good control over Vhagar as I do now...."
At the mention of his dragon, you perk up - that's one thing you've always been curious about. The Targaryen dragons are so beautiful and powerful; you would love to ride one one day, if given the chance.
"So your dragon, she disobeyed you?"
Aemond is clearly taken aback by your interest in Vhagar. For a moment, it seemed you forgot you were supposed to be scared of him. He tries to hide the hint of surprise flickering across his face.
"Well, yes and no," Aemond says, diplomatic. "Vhagar is a very old and powerful dragon, and she is used to doing what she wants. Sometimes.... it's difficult for any Targaryen to control a dragon, even the strongest of riders."
You are positively fascinated, hearing about Vhagar, leaning in toward Aemond without realizing. "What is it like, riding her? Does it ever get cold, so high up?"
Aemond can smell your perfume as you lean toward him, a mix of jasmine and honey, faint yet sweet. He clears his throat.
"Riding Vhagar is like nothing else," he tells you. "And yes, it does get cold at times, but the feeling of the wind in your hair and the power of the dragon beneath you is.... indescribable."
"Do you think she'd let me ride her?" At this point, you're nearly nose to nose with Aemond, eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Or do they only let Targaryens?"
Aemond freezes, gaze still locked with yours, your heads so close together that he can feel your breath ghost across his lips. He is surprised by your question and even more surprised by how badly he wants to fulfill the request.
"They only let Targaryens ride them, yes," he says, voice sounding much huskier than he intends. "But.... I'm sure Vhagar wouldn't mind letting someone else ride her.... if I were to accompany them."
"Would you?" You reach out, hand finding his thigh and giving a thankful squeeze. Realizing what you've done, how close you've become to him, you quickly snatch that hand back as though Aemond is on fire. "I'm so sorry...."
Aemond’s eye widens; for a heartbeat, your touch sent a shock through his entire body.
"It's alright." His voice is rough. “Don’t apologize....” He catches your wrist gently, before you can pull your hand away completely. "It was.... nice."
You tense, wrist caught in his strong embrace. "What are you doing?"
For a long moment, Aemond doesn't respond, simply staring at your slender wrist in his hand. Your skin is so smooth, so soft. He can feel your pulse beating against his palm, fast and fluttering like the wings of a small bird.
"Doing?" He finally asks, looking up at you with a sly smile. "Just.... holding your hand, that’s all."
"Holding my.... oh." All things considered, Aemond is handsome, you suppose. With his long silver hair, that chiseled jaw, the little moue of his lips. "You.... you really aren't all that scary, are you?"
Chuckling softly, Aemond's fingers gently stroke the skin of your wrist. Your words, spoken almost as a question, take him by surprise.
"I'm not trying to scare you," he says, his voice low and slightly amused. "And I don’t want to be scary, to you. Can I be honest with you, little wife?"
You nod, letting him continue to stroke that sensitive bit of skin around your wrist. He is very gentle, which has taken you by surprise.
"The truth is," he mutters, "I don't like it when you're scared of me. I don't like the way you look at me, as if you think I'm going to pounce on you and tear you apart at any moment. That's not what I want."
Slowly, still wary of him, you curl your fingers around his thumb and Aemond's breath hitches. Your hand is small compared to his; Aemond's fingers look massive beside yours.
"Everyone else seems so frightened of you. I thought.... I should be as well. I didn't know, that you hadn't meant to kill that boy. Have you told anyone else that?"
“No,” he says after a moment. “No one else knows. I haven't told anyone.”
He pauses, looking down at your hand in his. His other hand comes to trap your fingers inside of his palms, his thumbs tracing back and forth over your skin. “You’re the first I've shared this with.”
"You should tell others, that way no one will be scared of you."
Aemond lets out a soft chuckle, his gaze still fixed on your fingers intertwined with his own.
“I quite like others being afraid of me,” he admits. The smile on his face fades, just a bit, in the flickering candlelight. “But not you.”
"Not me?" You query, a sweet blush rising high on your cheeks. "Why not me?"
Aemond’s eye is drawn to that color blooming across your cheeks, the innocent flush sending a strange feeling coursing through him. He continues to stroke your wrist in a gentle, almost reverent, way.
"A wife should not be afraid of her husband," he says finally, his voice soft. "She should be worshipped by him....”
Slowly, so as not to startle you, he brings your wrist to his lips and places a gentle kiss there.
You lick your lips, nervous as all seven hells with the way things are going. Not only are you still afraid of Aemond - though growing less so by the moment - you have also never been close like this with anyone else before.
"And why.... why is it so important for other people to be afraid of you?"
Aemond’s lips linger over your skin, the faintest ghost of a smile there. He can feel the way your hand trembles slightly in his, the nervous flutter of your pulse against his fingertips. But he also notices how you don’t draw back, how you sit still and allow him to hold you.
“It's.... payback, almost,” he confesses. “For the torment I suffered as a child. It is better to be feared than loved - no one will ever again treat me the way they did when I was young.”
You are not aware of any torment in Aemond's childhood, though that isn't saying much. Of course the Targaryens keep much of what goes on between them a secret. Even now that you're married, you're hardly privy to all - or even most - of their secrets.
"Is that.... how this happened?" Shaking ever so slightly, you raise a hand to Aemond's face, fingers stroking the strap of his eyepatch.
As your slender fingers brushed against the edge of it, Aemond tenses, every muscle in his body going taut. No one has ever touched him there before, and it's an unfamiliar intimacy.
He closes his eye for a moment, trying to control his reaction, before speaking. “Yes,” he says, his voice thick with emotions he finds difficult to name. “That's how this happened.”
You feel for Aemond; having to grow up that way must have been torture.
Pulling your hand gently from his grasp, you bring both up to hook beneath the rough leather strap. "May I?"
His breathing hitches as your hands tug gently at the straps of his eyepatch. He knows your touch is innocent.... but no one has ever dared to remove it for him before. He nods once, his voice low.
“You may.”
With fierce concentration and a desire not to ruin his perfect hair, you slide the eyepatch up and off, gasping at the gorgeous sapphire glimmering where his eye should be.
"Gods, it's beautiful, Aemond." Letting the patch rest in your lap, you run your fingers lightly over the scar tissue below Aemond's eye. "Who did this to you?"
Aemond's breath hitches again, rougher this time, as he feels the tips of your slender fingers graze the scarred tissue around his eye, the touch stirring something deep within him. The feeling of your touch against the sensitive skin there is almost overwhelming.
He swallows hard, that old pain and anger bubbling up inside of him.
"My.... nephew," he finally says, his voice surprisingly even. "Lucerys Velaryon."
You inhale sharply; all you can think of is that if Aemond had really meant to kill the boy, he would have been well within his right to, after having been mutilated like this.
Grabbing for his hands, you hurry to say something. "Aemond, I-"
But your husband cuts you off. "There is one other reason it's important for others to be afraid of me."
"A-And what is that?" You ask, holding his hands close to your bosom.
"So that I can protect my wife, and my family." That sapphire is positively glowing in the light of the flickering candles. "The more afraid people are of me, the less likely they are to try and harm me, or you, or our family.... once we make one...."
His declaration takes all the air from your lungs, and you find it hard to breathe. "If I had known all of this, I.... I would never have been so frightened of you. I'm sorry, Aemond."
You cast around desperately for something else to say, some other way to apologize.
"Do not apologize."
His voice is gentle, yet firm. Your hands are still holding his against your breast, and he can feel the warmth of your skin even through the layers of your gown, the rapid beat of your heart.
"You didn't know, it is not your fault for being afraid," he soothes you. "But.... now that you know.... may I ask you something else?"
You nod, eager now to answer Aemond's questions and to ask more of your own - you want to learn so much more about him.
Aemond's fingers tighten around yours, the feel of your soft skin against his own sending a strange heat through his veins. He draws you in a little closer, his face now so close to yours that he can feel the warmth of your breath, that same scent of sweet honey and jasmine in your hair.
"You.... have not shied away from my scar, or my missing eye," he says, his voice a low whisper. "You have touched them, caressed them even.... why?"
Why...? You find it odd he even has to ask.
"Because I think they make you beautiful. Is that wrong?"
Your thumbs find his wrists now, pressing in against his pulse points, which are fluttering erratically.
Aemond's breath catches in his throat, the feeling of your dainty thumbs resting against his wrists, feeling the rapid beating of his pulse, setting his skin on fire. Your words, declaring him beautiful, ring in his ears, stirring something deep within his chest.
"Be-Beautiful?" He repeats, his voice a terrible croak. No one.... no one has ever called him beautiful. The word sounds strange in his ears, as if they're not meant for someone like him.
You nod, and after only a momentary hesitation, you bring one hand up again to his scar. This time, brushing the side closest to his hairline, a few strands of long silver hair getting in the way.
"Beautiful, Aemond. You're beautiful. I mean.... I did always think that. Just.... was too afraid of you to tell you. Do you forgive me?"
Aemond's breath hitches once more as your fingers stroke his hair, your soft touch sending a shiver down his spine. No one, no one, has ever touched his scar with such tenderness, such care.
"I.... I forgive you," he whispers, voice raw. "And for what it's worth.... I'm sorry, that I.... that I made you afraid of me. I never wanted that, I swear."
"I know. It wasn't even your fault, really." You roll your eyes, relaxing against the back of the settee. "I was just.... assuming that what everyone else said was true. Which is a terrible thing, really. My parents raised me much better than that."
A particularly chilly gust of wind blows in through the window and you wrap your arms around yourself. "I have to admit, I thought if my shenanigans went on much longer, you'd be forced to.... well, force yourself on me...."
Aemond is silent, as if that thought, the notion of forcing himself on you, is something he refuses to even consider. He turns to look at you, the pale glow of his sapphire eye giving him an otherworldly appearance.
"I.... I would never force you to do anything, little wife, not ever," he says, his voice low and serious. "I believe the first time a man and wife.... are together.... it should be.... enjoyable.... for both of them."
Suddenly, all words are caught in your throat. The thought of your first time with Aemond still makes you nervous, even knowing that he would never want to do anything against your will.
"I thought.... a woman's first time was always painful?" That's what you've always been told. You have never done anything of the sort, but perhaps Aemond knows better.
At your words, Aemond's jaw tightens. His fingers clench into a fist, the thought of you in pain during your first time together sending a wave of anger through him.
"No. No, never. It shouldn't be painful, not unless you don't want it, too," he says, his voice low and urgent. "Your first time should be.... enjoyable. Pleasant. I would never take you simply for my own pleasure. I would make sure you...." he falters.
Flinching slightly away from him at the sight of his hand in a fist, you gasp softly. Have you said something wrong?
Still, you dare to ask, "You would make sure I what?"
In the candlelight, Aemond's eye flashes dangerously and that sapphire blazes.
He takes a very deep breath, forcing himself to relax, to open his hand again. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, "I.... I don't like the idea of hurting you, it.... makes me angry."
He looks down at you again.
"I would make sure that you.... felt pleasure as well. It wouldn't be about me. It's about both of us."
If you had known how protective Aemond was of you, you would have asked him about these things sooner. He is, after all, the only person you can think to ask. If you can't discuss bedroom matters with your husband, who can you discuss them with?
"How does it feel?" You ask him softly, scooting closer to him on the settee. "When you have sex, how does it feel?"
Aemond is taken somewhat off guard by the sudden question, his cheeks going pink at your unexpected candor, but he doesn't back down. He doesn't want to shy away from your questions, not when you're so close to him, peering at him through those wide, innocent eyes.
He takes another deep breath, shifting on the settee so he can face you fully.
"it.... it feels.... good," he begins, his voice a low rumble. "It feels.... full. Warm. Tight. But.... good. More than good, especially when you do it with someone you care about. It feels safe, like nothing can hurt you ever again."
The look on Aemond's face as he speaks is one you've never seen before - something vulnerable and almost childlike staring back at you. You wonder how you could ever have been afraid of him.
"And you? Who was your first time with?"
As your question hangs in the air between the two of you, Aemond goes stock-still. No one has ever asked him that before.
He hesitates for a moment, peering warily at you. "Why.... why do you want to know?" He asks finally, voice cautious.
Now you know you've definitely said something wrong. "I was just curious," you hurry to tell him. "It's wrong of me to pry, I'm sorry...."
Aemond sighs softly, shaking his head. "No, no, don't apologize," he says, his voice a light simper now. He reaches out, taking your hand gently in his.
"It's okay, I just.... wasn't expecting you to ask that." He pauses, and you can see a flicker of something run across his face. "You.... you really want to know?"
"I do," you admit bashfully. "If you feel comfortable telling me?"
Aemond's hand grips yours a little tighter, your words sending a strange, tight feeling through hm. He hasn't thought about that night in a long time, and the memory is still painful enough to make him wince.
"All right," he says, letting out a slow breath. "I.... I'll tell you. Just.... just don't.... don't judge me, all right?"
"I won't judge," you assure him with a shake of your head.
Aemond looks down at your intertwined hands, his fingers tracing a light pattern against your palm. He closes his eye, gathering his thoughts, before lifting your hand to his lips and pressing a barely-there kiss to your knuckles.
"My.... my first time," he begins, and his voice is rough, "was with a whore, in a pleasure house, at the behest of my brother who frequented - and still frequents - them much more than I did."
"I don't think that's anything to be ashamed of," you admit, mulling the idea over. "Most men visit those types of places at some point in their lives.... don't they?"
Aemond pauses for a moment, his eye locking with yours. He looks almost surprised by your response, as if he hadn't thought you would be so blasé about the situation.
"Yes...." he says slowly, "they do. But.... it's not.... it's not the sort of thing a wife would expect to hear, about their husband's past exploits."
You chew your lip thoughtfully, running your fingers around and through the spaces between Aemond's. "I don't mind, as long as...."
You hesitate, wondering if you really want to say this now or leave it for another night. "What I mean to say, Aemond, is that.... now that we understand each other better.... perhaps you can show me what it's like? Sex? And, if you do, I expect there to be no more pleasure houses in your future, is that clear?"
Aemond's gaze darkens as your words register, his heart stuttering in his chest. His fingers twitch against yours, breath catching in his throat.
"You.... you want me to show you...?" He repeats weakly, his eye wide and disbelieving.
You close your fingers tightly around Aemond's now, leaning in toward your husband. "Mm. But as I said, you must promise - no more pleasure houses. After all, you did say you want to worship me, did you not?"
Aemond's head swims with your words, his heart hammering in his chest so hard it's difficult to catch his breath. The way you're looking at him, the sweetness in your voice, the scent of honey and jasmine in your hair.... all of it is almost too much to bear.
He swallows hard, and nods. "No more pleasure houses. I promise," he whispers, his voice hoarse and rough.
His oath sets you at ease, but there's one more thing you must tell him.
"I must admit, Aemond, I'm still scared...."
He looks about to interrupt, but you cut him off. "Oh, not of you. I'm.... terrified of the pain. I've never done well with pain, and I'm so scared it's going to hurt like hell."
Aemond's heart twists at the worry and fear in your voice, his fingers tightening over yours. He hates the thought of you being scared, hates his own inability to take that fear away from you.
"Why do you still think it's going to be painful?" He asks quietly.
Instead of making you feel trapped, his fingers around yours make you feel safe. Aemond is lethal; you can see it in his face, in the hard line of his body. But he wants to use all of that to protect you....
Though what could he possibly do to prevent his own body from hurting you, even though he might not mean to?
"That's all I've ever been told." You gulp. "A woman's first time is always painful. And.... There's always blood."
Aemond's jaw clenches in anger. He doesn't know who planted these false, hurtful notions in your head, but he wants to tear them limb from limb.
He reaches out to you, tilting your head gently up to meet his gaze. "No. No, no, no," he says, his voice low and intense. "It's not supposed to be painful, especially the first time. You've just.... you've been told wrong."
He pauses. "Sometimes there is blood, I won't lie to you about that. But there are ways to minimize the chance of that."
Aemond's fingers start to skirt back and forth under your chin. "How .... How can we stop there being so much blood? I want you to show me."
Heart now beating much faster, Aemond's stomach twists with a mixture of desire and trepidation. He swallows, hard, his eye dark and heavy-lidded as he gazes down at you.
He runs his fingers through your hair, the soft feel of it against his skin maddening. "I can show you," he murmurs, "but.... you have to trust me."
"Of course. I do now." You turn your face toward his hand, palm skimming your cheek as he touches your hair. "I know you'll take care of me."
He takes another deep breath to steady himself, his hand coming to rest against the side of your face, thumb tracing the line of your jaw. "Good," he whispers, "because I will, always. But there's something.... something I need to know first."
You shiver, Aemond's fingers reverent along your cheek and jaw. "What is it?"
Fingers now trailing down your neck, he pauses, hand coming to rest on your collarbone, your pulse beating fast and hard against his palm.
Aemond leans in close, his voice a rumble in your ear. "You.... you have never even been touched, have you?"
You are very aware of how hard your heart is beating, thumping underneath his fingers. "I haven't.... is that bad?"
Aemond breathes heavily, pulling back to look at you.
"No," he says emphatically, "it's not bad. It's.... it's just...." He trails off for a moment, struggling to find the words. "I need to know.... if you're still.... if you're still intact."
The question makes you blush furiously, looking down at your laps, side by side, so you don't have to look Aemond in the eye. "I.... yes.... isn't that where the blood comes from?"
You don't know much, but you do know that.
He places two fingers gently under your chin, coaxing you to look up at him again.
"Yes," he says, "that's where the blood comes from. But it can break in other ways. For instance, from fingers or.... other objects." His fingers trace along your cheek, obviously trying to soothe your growing discomfort at this conversation.
"But it.... it doesn't have to," he adds after a moment.
You chuckle, reluctantly meeting Aemond's gaze. "Can we try?"
He takes a moment to steady himself, his hand now trailing back down your neck, slowly caressing. "Are you sure? Absolutely sure?"
You nod fervently, gripping onto his wrist. "Positively. Now that I understand you better, I can think of no one else I'd like to teach me such things...."
He leans in, lips brushing your ear again, breath hot against your skin. "Then I will," he murmurs, his voice an uneven, ragged whisper, "I will show you. And I will take my time."
Long have you waited for someone to come along and share this experience with you. When you were initially betrothed to Aemond, you thought all hope was lost - he was so frightening and the thought of sharing a bed with him sent a shiver of panic through you.
But now.... Women have desires just as much as men do, surely... At least you know you do. And Aemond is offering to take care of them for you....
You steady yourself with a hand on Aemond's chest, nails digging into the soft cotton of his tunic. "Please.... I want it."
Aemond's stomach clenches, your soft, pleading voice sending a bolt of white hot desire through him.
"Patience," he murmurs, his sizeable palm laid against the back of your hand on his chest, "I'll take care of you, I promise. I just need you to relax for me, all right?"
"Mm, I'll try...." With another nod, you take a deep breath, shuddering at the feeling of Aemond's big hand covering yours entirely. "Maybe a drink would serve to relax me better...?"
This gives Aemond pause, and he pulls back slightly, his eye raking over your face, taking in the soft blush on your cheeks, the way your lips are parted as you catch your breath.
He gives a single, slow nod. "Yes," he admits, "I think a drink might help."
Without another word, he moves to a small table on the other side of the room, pouring you each a generous glass of sweet wine.
As he does so, you finger the pendant at your throat, a gift from your late mother. The way Aemond looks at you; any woman would be lucky to have a husband who looks at her that way. Like you're precious, like he would do anything to protect you.
Once offered your glass, you take it and swallow a large mouthful, hoping to get drunk as quickly as possible, to make this whole ordeal more bearable.
Aemond watches you closely, a small frown tugging at the corners of his mouth as he sees you gulp the wine so quickly. He knows you're trying to get drunk, trying to use the alcohol as a crutch to make this easier.
"There's no need to rush," he says quietly, taking a seat beside you again, his knee bumping yours. He lifts his own glass to his lips, taking a slow, measured drink.
Swallowing another substantial mouthful of wine, you furtively watch the way Aemond's lips purse around the rim of his glass.
You smooth the skirts of your dress down, taking a deep breath. "I just want to be as relaxed as possible for you, Aemond."
He continues to watch you, that striking violet eye taking in every tiny detail - the way your fingers grasp the fabric of your dress, the soft movement of your body underneath the silk.
He takes a deep breath, his eye watching you as he drains the last of the wine from the glass. "I know," he murmurs, his voice a husky rumble, "but there's no need to get completely drunk, my love."
"It can't hurt." You upend the first glass of wine, draining the last dregs, and hold your glass out toward him. "Another?"
Apparently highly amused, Aemond raises a brow, but refuses to pour you another.
"I think that's quite enough. There's no need to be quite so drunk tonight, I promise."
You pout, setting your glass aside, but starting to feel a pleasant warmth wash over you from the first glass all the same.
"How do we start?" You question, leaning in close to him. Aemond smells of chamomile and sweat and.... maybe just a hint of blood? It's the best thing you've ever smelled.
Aemond reaches for you suddenly, his hands moving to your hips, pulling you gently onto his lap so you can straddle him.
The next breath he takes rattles through him as you settle on top of him, his hands gripping your waist, heart beating fast. "We.... we start here," he whispers, his voice a rough murmur.
"Goodness," you breathe, hands curling over his shoulders to steady yourself. "And.... what do we do here?"
You're trying your best to be brave, and the wine is making it easier, but there is still that niggling worry at the back of your mind, chanting blood blood blood.
Aemond feels that slight tremble in your hands as you grab his shoulders, the way you hesitate and swallow nervously as you ask your question. He can practically hear your thoughts racing, paying attention to the fear and trepidation in your words.
He leans in close, hands slipping from your waist to bracket your ribs, pulling you flush against him, your body cradled easily in his lap. "We start like this," he murmurs, his fingers gently tilting your chin up to look at him. "Just like this."
Slowly, fingers gentle but firm on your chin, he's bringing you in for a kiss.
The sound that leaves your mouth at the first dry press of your lips together is embarrassing. You curse. "I'm sorry." You bite your lip hard, searching Aemond's one violet eye for forgiveness. "Can we try again?"
Aemond chuckles good-naturedly, hands coming up to cup your face, thumbs tracing slow, gentle patterns over your cheeks.
"You have nothing to apologize for," he whispers, leaning ever closer to you, his breath hot against your lips. "We can try as many times as you like, darling."
With a hand again around his wrist to steady yourself, you don't have far to go, what with Aemond's face so close to yours. You press your lips to his - soft yet firm. Your other hand slides up the outside of his thigh as you open your mouth under his, grateful for his willingness to teach you.
You hear Aemond's breath hitch again as he feels your hand moving up his leg, the touch of your slim, soft fingers against his body sending a shiver down his spine. He groans as you open your mouth, his tongue immediately seeking yours, tangling, tasting, claiming.
He grips your hair in one hand, angling your head back so he can deepen the kiss, his other hand back to gripping your hip, pulling you tighter against him.
You do the same, hands migrating down, loving the feeling of Aemond's slim, strong muscle under your fingers. As you kiss, you surreptitiously move the thin cloth of Aemond's tunic aside so you can touch him skin to skin over his sharp hipbones.
This earns you a keen inhale from your husband, who jerks away from you.
"I'm sorry," you breathe. "Is this okay?"
His mouth has opened in a gasp against yours, eyes squeezing shut.
When they open again, he merely looks at you, taking in the soft, pink flush of your cheeks, the way your pupils are thoroughly dilated, your chest heaving. He takes a deep breath, steadying himself. "Yes," he says ruggedly, his voice a scratchy gasp, "I'm sorry, it is. It's okay."
A flood of warmth washes over you, and you grin. You don't know why, but you want to kiss his neck.
Fingers digging hard into his hip, you lean in, nosing his long hair out of the way as your lips meet his neck, sucking and biting. Aemond tastes clean and faintly of rose water.
Aemond's head tips back immediately, giving your lips and teeth free reign over his neck, his skin breaking out in gooseflesh at the unfamiliar sensation. A soft, low moan escapes him as your mouth traces a path along the sensitive skin of his neck.
His body arches against yours. "My love," he gasps, his voice a ragged, breathless plea, "this is maddening."
"Need you to teach me," is your reply, pushing harder against him. "Don't go mad just yet."
He runs his hands down your sides, skimming over the soft, silky material of your dress, his body reacting powerfully to your closeness. "Gods, woman," he gasps, thumbs playing idly along the edge of your ribs, "are you sure you haven't done this before?"
You rest your cheek on Aemond's shoulder, nose brushing along the chiseled line of his jaw. "Positive," you sigh, arms now slung around him. "But I like the way you touch me. It's making me feel all hot and wet.... down there."
At this declaration, Aemond makes a noise you've never heard anyone make before. He nuzzles against your collarbone, pressing slow, hot kisses along the line of your chest just visible over the collar of your dress.
His mouth is starting to curve into a wicked smile. "Do you want me to touch you there, too?"
With a nod, you begin to pull the folds of your dress up over your thighs. "Please. The feeling down there, it's.... very insistent." And Aemond's fingers look perfectly long and warm and rough with calluses.
Aemond swallows hard as he watches the fabric of your dress retreat up over your thighs, the soft, bare skin of your legs suddenly exposed to him. His gaze rakes over you, taking in every detail - the soft, pale flesh, the way the candlelight casts shadows over the curves of your body.
As though trying not to startle you, Aemond runs his knuckles painstakingly slowly up the inside of your thigh. "When we were first betrothed, I knew I had gotten lucky."
That drunken haze still hovering around you, you let your legs slip further apart around him. "Lucky? How so?"
His hand moves further up, touch feather-light against her skin. "Lucky," he murmurs, "because I knew I'd be marrying the most beautiful woman in all Seven Kingdoms."
He lets his hand move higher still, fingers stopping just before they reach the edge of your smallclothes. He pauses, looking intently at you, the question plain on his face.
"I never knew you thought I was beautiful...." You lean more against him, feeling impossibly safe and comfortable in his embrace. "Please. You can."
Hips canting forward, you try to push his hand in toward you.
"The most beautiful," he replies. He can feel your hips moving subtly against his, feel his own desire rising with every move you make.
Those long fingers hook into the edge of your smallclothes, running the backs of his knuckles along the sensitive bit of skin he finds there.
Your eyes flutter shut, the feeling of his gentle fingers finally scooping up under your dress making your stomach flip nervously. "Please." The word is uttered against Aemond's chin, where you've pressed your lips as you wait to feel his hand where you need it most.
As slowly as he an manage, he insinuates those fingers fully inside your smallclothes. He can feel the heat of your skin, the way you squirm in his lap as he moves closer to his destination, his own body reacting strongly to the anticipation.
He leans in, mouth finding yours in a heated, hungry kiss, his fingers finally, finally touching that wet, sensitive flesh between your thighs.
A sharp inhale accompanies the meeting of Aemond's hand to your sex. Everything down there feels so wet already, you suppose you should be embarrassed, but the wine is making it hard to feel so, which you're grateful for.
"Aemond...." Seeking his lips for another kiss, you mutter, "please don't stop."
One long finger sinks into your wet, hot flesh, his entire body shivering at the feeling of you beneath his hands. He lets out a ragged gasp as you kiss him, mouth moving fervently against yours, tongue delving into your mouth, tangling with yours.
With a low, gruff noise, he starts to move his finger inside of you, slow, gentle circles that make your muscles tighten and twitch against his hand. "I won't," he murmurs against your lips, his eyes squeezed shut, "I promise, I won't."
Aemond's finger has slid easily into you, all the way down to the knuckle. "Is it -?" You gasp, glancing down, tugging your skirts out of the way to see better. "It's inside? I thought it would be much more painful...."
You know it might not be the same with his manhood, which is surely a fair bit bigger than one of his fingers, but you're glad things have gone smoothly so far all the same.
Aemond's other hand presses itself solidly against that little bundle of nerves, the one you're familiar with, the one that makes you see stars, and you bite his lower lip a little too hard in response.
"Shit, sorry."
Aemond lets out a low chuckle at your reaction, his lips curving into a smile against your mouth. "No need to apologize, sweet girl," he mutters. "There's a possibility it might hurt more than this when we go further, but I promise I'll be gentle."
He moves his finger in and out of you slowly, his other hand still pressing against you, the pad of his thumb circling that swollen bud, his touch gentle but firm. "How does this feel?"
A pang of fear shoots through you at his declaration that you will likely be in pain later on, but it's soothed by the way Aemond's fingers are gently coaxing themselves inside of you and over your clit.
"It feels perfect, Aemond. I never even knew it could feel this good." Not even when you'd touched yourself in bed at night.
Aemond's eye darkens as he hears your words, the sound of your voice, gutted and breathless, making his stomach clench. "This is just the beginning, sweet girl. There's so much more I can show you."
He slips another finger into you, feeling your body tighten and go taut around him, his own body still reacting powerfully to the sight and feel of you. He leans in to kiss you again, his mouth hungrily claiming yours.
With another finger inside, you start to squirm in his lap, and your hand slips, colliding with something hard inside of Aemond's trousers.
"Aemond," you gasp, "it.... it's hard."
Aemond lets out a strangled noise as your hand brushes against him, his body shuddering, his eye squeezing shut. "Ah, shit, sweetheart," he gasps, his breath ragged, "Don't do that."
He looks at you, his breath coming in quick, rough pants, his eye darkened to a deep, intense violet. "I'm going to be patient with you."
He says this like he's trying to convince himself of it.
"I'm sorry," you gasp again, hands flying to your mouth. "I didn't mean to touch it...."
Gaze flickering to the windows, to the Targaryen flags flying from every turret, you stifle a smile. "But maybe.... maybe you don't have to be so patient...."
Aemond growls at your words, fingers slowing their ministrations over you. "How impatient would you have me be?"
You reach down to take his free hand - the one currently touching your clit in nice, soft circles - in yours, lacing your fingers as you lean into him. "Still gentle, just.... Maybe lead me? Show me how things like this should be done."
Aemond can practically feel his self-restraint slipping at your words, the feeling of your small, soft hand in his making his head spin. He takes a deep breath, trying desperately to maintain control, to keep up the facade of gentility.
He grips your chin with his free hand, lifting your face to meet his eye, his voice low and rough. "Are you sure you're ready for that?" He asks, the question almost pained.
"I am. I'm sure." You wrap your shoulders around him, burying your face against his neck. "Take me to bed and show me, please."
Aemond swallows hard, the feeling of your breath against him sending a shudder through him. Lifting you easily in his arms, he stands silently from the settee.
The loss of Aemond's fingers from inside of you makes you whine, clinging to his broad shoulders as he makes his way to the bed.
He lays you gently down, crawling over you, hand once again trailing up the soft expanse of your thigh.
"Aemond...."
A sweet noise rumbles through him as he positions himself on top of you, body pressing you down against the covers, hips slotting between your legs. His gaze as he looks down on you is fiery, eye raking over your body, hands gripping and kneading the supple flesh of your thighs.
"You drive me mad, do you know that?" He murmurs. He leans down to kiss your neck, his mouth hot and insistent against your skin.
With Aemond on top of you, you reach around to tug the back of his tunic up, skimming your fingers along the warm skin of his lower back.
"Why did you never.... tell me before?" You mutter quietly, nibbling at Aemond's earlobe.
Aemond allows himself a deep moan as you touch him, your fingers roaming over his skin, your mouth on his ear. He rolls his hips against you, the aching hardness of his body weighing you down.
"Gods, I don't know," he gasps, his hands roaming over the soft curves of your body. "Maybe I could tell you were afraid of me. Maybe I was a fool."
"I suppose we both were fools." You curl your tongue around Aemond's ear, teasing.
His hardness is pressing insistently against you through your clothes. Aemond leans his forehead to yours. "I'm going to take your dress off now. Is that alright?"
You've never been naked in front of anyone before, but Aemond is making you feel so safe that you nod hurriedly, sitting up. "Yes, please."
Aemond's eye darkens at your nod, his hands immediately going to the laces of your dress, working them loose until the fabric falls away from your body. He lets his gaze roam over your exposed skin, his fingers tracing the soft planes of your body, reverent and gentle.
"Seven Hells," he mutters, his voice a ragged whisper, "I've never seen anything so perfect."
The wine allows you to feel comfortable enough to stretch out over top of your discarded dress, staring up at him over the swell of your breasts. "Don't you want to touch your perfect wife, Aemond?"
"Of course I do," he mutters. He moves aside only slightly, letting his fingers scrape over one of your hardened nipples. "I want to touch every part of you."
You arch into his touch, his fingertips hard and callused against your sensitive nipple. "Aemond.... Would I be a complete whore if I asked for your fingers back inside of me?"
"No," he mutters easily, a hand running its way down your body, the other holding himself above you. "No, you wouldn't. But I want you to ask for it, my love. I want you to tell me exactly what you want."
Your breathing quickening, the air in the room thick and heavy, you spread your legs around him, unabashed. "i want you to touch me. To touch my stomach, my hips and thighs .... my cunt. Please."
Aemond makes a ragged noise at your request, his body shuddering as you open yourself to him. He trails his hand lower, his fingers grazing over your stomach, trailing over your hips and thighs, before coming to rest between your legs.
He lets that hand rest on your for a moment, feeling your wetness, his violet eye dark and full of lust. "Is this what you wanted, darling?"
"Yes," comes your voice, wrecked, entire body feeling overheated and overwhelmed already. "Gods, Aemond, I.... I'm sorry I didn't ask for this earlier."
You run your hands up Aemond's toned arms, tugging on the short sleeves of his tunic. "M-May I take this off?"
Feeling you tug at his tunic, Aemond nods, loving that ragged and pleading tone in your voice. He can feel the heat radiating off your body, can see the raw, pleading look in your eyes, and he's never been more turned on in his life.
By way of a real answer, he reaches down and hooks his fingers under the hem of his shirt to rip it off over his head. He shakes his hair out majestically, making you giggle.
But after that giggle.... You can do nothing but lay beneath him and stare. His body is perfect, abs cut into his skin above the smooth, narrow line of his hips.
"Goodness ...." You whisper, fingertips prodding at his hardened stomach. "You're.... actually perfect."
"Perfect, really?" He replies, clearly perplexed. "I'd say I'm looking at perfection right now."
You whimper, Aemond's moist lips once more at your neck, his body pressed to yours. "How do you.... get your body to look that way? Maybe you can teach me that too, as well as how to ride a dragon."
Aemond laughs softly, his teeth scraping against you as he kisses down your neck. "It's actually quite simple," he murmurs, his hands roaming over your body, arms caging you in against the bed. "Just a lot of sword practice and fighting."
He pauses, his lips trailing teasingly over the line of your jaw. "I'm going to teach you to ride more than just a dragon, my love."
"I could sword fight." Your voice doesn't sound like it ever has before. "Easy. Train me."
You gasp at his words, nails now digging into his back. "And what else are you going to teach me to ride, husband?"
Aemond lets out a low chuckle at your response, his muscles coiling where your nails dig into his skin. He rolls his hips against you and makes you gasp.
"I can teach you how to ride me," he mutters, his voice a rough, ragged whisper. "Or maybe you'd like a ride on my face."
Your eyes go wide, and you press him away by the shoulder just so you can look him in the eye. "I.... I'm allowed to do that?"
You've never heard of this - using your mouth? Why have you never thought of it before?
"Of course you are," he murmurs, looking bemusedly down on you. "And I would be more than happy to let you."
His hot breath whispers over your skin as he leans to speak into your ear. "You've never heard of it before, have you?"
"I haven't." You tilt your head, fingers tender along Aemond's jaw. "How should I.... How do I do it?"
Aemond's eye closes at the feeling of your fingers, tender on his jaw, your touch ever gentle and caressing. He makes a very small noise and shudders over top of you. "It's easy, darling."
"I just lean back here...." With one swift movement, Aemond rolls and settles himself against the pillows. "You come up here...."
Gentle but insistent hands guide you, pulling you all the way up. "And swing a leg over me."
Still helped along by his strong hands, you throw one knee on the opposite side of Aemond's head, bracketing his ears with your thighs. "Like.... this?"
This position makes you feel as nervous as you have all night, even with the aid of the wine - Aemond can see all of you. Truly all of you, and you can't quite meet his eye because of it.
Aemond's hands tighten on your thighs, his breathing growing ragged. He can sense your nervousness, the way your muscles are tensing up, the way you're avoiding his eye.
He rubs his hands soothingly across your thighs, trying to relax you. "That's it, darling." His voice is soft, comforting. "You look gorgeous."
You bite your lip, carding one hand through Aemond's alluring silver hair. The other you place over his good eye, the hint of a smile on your face as you mutter, "Don't look...."
Aemond smirks, and yanks you suddenly, roughly forward by the backs of your thighs, so that your womanhood is directly above his smirking lips. "As you wish."
He places a single, open-mouthed kiss to your clit and the suction, the wetness, of it all is enough to make you squeal.
There's one poignant moment where Aemond's intensely hot, wet mouth rests over your womanhood. Then, with a jagged moan, he begins to lave over you, lips, tongue, and teeth working in tandem.
His callused palms cradle the backs of your thighs, keeping you in place as his tongue works you over. And when that same tongue points itself deep inside of your core, you can no longer keep your hand over his eye, lest you want to smash your husband's head painfully into the sheets.
Instead, that hand flies to the headboard, holding on for dear life. "Gods, Aemond! I.... I've never felt anything like this, what.... what in the seven hells...."
Aemond redoubles his grip on your thighs, keeping you in place as he works you with his tongue, his mouth and teeth and lips bringing you to new heights of pleasure. He moans roughly, and the sound reverberates through you, making your mouth fall open.
"Just... relax, my love," he mutters against your folds, "I did say I would worship you, did I not?"
You nod, still petting a hand gently through Aemond's hair, coiling your fingers around the strands, feeling how soft it is. Your eyes, however, are trained on the gilded ceiling when you answer.
"Y-You did, but.... this.... I didn't even know this was a thing people did. Is this.... common?"
"No, sweet one," he mutters, his voice thick with desire and - somewhere - a hint of disdain, "it isn't common. Most men see their wives as something to be claimed, conquered. And I...."
"You see them as something to be worshipped," you answer, remembering his words from earlier.
Aemond lets out a low chuckle against you as you knot your fingers in his hair, his tongue continuing to lathe across you. He lifts his head for a moment, his lips and chin glistening, a smirk on his face. "Look at me."
You do, and are rewarded with his fingers climbing the insides of your thighs, splaying themselves over you. "You are the most exquisite creature I've ever laid eyes on."
The sight of his face, so slick with you, his eye dark, his sapphire glinting, his fingers roaming over your thighs, it all makes you shiver, your breathing coming in short, ragged gasps.
"And you," he continues, voice muffled against your folds, "you taste divine."
And without another word, he dives back in, his tongue delving into you once more, his hands gripping your thighs, bringing you lower, closer to him.
All of this - Aemond telling you how beautiful you are, his talented mouth on you, the haze of the wine moving through you - has you tumbling toward the edge quicker than you've ever done so by yourself.
"Aemond.... close!" You give a hard tug to Aemond's hair, warning him.
He closes his eyes as he focuses on nothing more than bringing you further to the edge, the heat of your body and the taste of you driving him wild, pushing him to give you more, more, more.
"Just.... let go," he mutters against you. "I want you to let go for me, my sweet."
You're trembling now, hips riding down against his face of their own accord. "Oh, gods...." You've never done this in front of anyone before. What will Aemond think of the way you climax? Will it be embarrassing? "Aemond...."
There's no longer any time to think it over, though, as one last swipe of his tongue sends you spiraling with a loud cry.
Aemond's heart is pounding hard, watching you cum, his eye wide and alight with desire as he watches your body shudder and shake above him, your cry of pleasure filling the room and, undoubtedly, the hallways around it.
He helps you ride out the wave of pleasure, his tongue slowly bringing you back down, peppering your thighs and hip bones with hot, open-mouthed kisses.
Your eyes fluttering, your chest heaving, Aemond coaxes you through your first climax with him and then maneuvers you down to lay beside him. You feel so boneless, you sure you aren't much help in this endeavor.
"That was...." You don't even have the words to describe what just happened to you.
Aemond watches you closely as you lay beside him, breasts rising and falling heavily, your skin flushed and marked all over with his mouth, one hand trailing lightly over your stomach. The sight of you, well-loved and satisfied, makes his chest burn with desire.
He leans in close to you, curling his body around yours like a protective shield. His mouth trailing over your neck, his voice a quiet whisper. "That was beautiful. And we're only getting started."
You gaze at him out of half-lidded eyes, your body already feeling drained from just one round. "What...." You stifle a yawn behind your hand, trying to hide it. "What's next?"
Aemond laughs at the sight of you yawning, both hands now brushing over your body, his touch gentle. He can see the exhaustion in your eyes, hear the tiredness in your voice.
He leans down and presses a loving kiss to your forehead. "I don't think you're quite ready for more yet, my love. You look like you're barely awake."
Through your tiredness, you whine, "But you promised to show me. What it's like...." You're pressing sleepy kisses to Aemond's jaw, lips sweeping down over his neck.
Aemond's lashes flutter at your tiny kisses, his arms curling strong and protective around you. He makes an odd noise, and you realize you may have had an orgasm, but he never did.
"I can take care of it for you." Searching down below, hands clumsy and heavy with sleep, you feel Aemond grab for your wrist.
"And you will," he mutters, admonishing. "But tonight it's getting late, and you're tired. We have our whole lives together, we need not rush this."
Another yawn overtakes you, and you snuggle down into his warmth. "Tomorrow, then?" You mumble, arms slung lazily around him. "And dragon riding tomorrow, too...."
Aemond chuckles again at your insistence, hands gently rubbing themselves over your body, comforting you. He shifts back on the bed, pulling you into his chest and wrapping his arms around you, holding you as close as possible.
"Of course, my love," he murmurs, his voice a gentle, soothing rumble in your ear. "Tomorrow. And dragon riding, too. But for now, you need to sleep."
Aemond runs the very tips of his fingers up and down your back, just along your spine.
"I really am sorry, Aemond...." You're already half asleep, struggling to stay awake, to get the words out. "D'you really forgive me?"
Aemond sighs.
"Of course I forgive you," he whispers, breath tickling your ear. "It's all in the past now, my love. The only thing that matters is you and me, right here, right now. And dragon riding tomorrow, I promise...."
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ilyhaitanii · 3 months
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fall right into me ft. sylus (l&ds)
nsfw. face sitting, riding sylus’s nose bcos what kind of ilyhaitanii fic would it be if a man didnt eat pussy, nipple play, sylus is down bad, oral (f!receiving // if that wasn’t obvious) a/n: sylus on the brain…… hes so sexy and his voice ?!:!:$:& need him to do unspeakable things to me.
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“there’s something wrong with you, you know that?” you giggle as sylus sits you down by the edge of his bed. he kneels before you, gentle hands moving your ankle closer towards him. in one hand he has these black colored kitten heels with bold, red rubies adorning the front of them. there’s a leather strap that will wrap all the way up your calf, ending just before where your knees would be. sylus turns them towards you as you adjust your foot on his knee.
“do you like them? i had them custom made for you,” he says smoothly as he unties the leather ribbon, allowing you to side your foot into the heel. there’s a velvet lining around the inside that doesn’t cause any discomfort as normal heels would, and the plush cushioning adds to the expensive experience.
“they’re gorgeous,” you smile down at him, cupping his cheek into your hand. instinctively, sylus looks up at you whilst leaning into your palm. “why do all of this just for a silly party, hm?” you tease him when you notice his eyes lingering around your red lipstick. he gulps,
“is it a crime to want to show you off?” he leans closer as his fingers tie the strap behind your calf into a bow. “do you dislike my gestures, honey?” there’s a mischievous glint in his eyes that makes your cheeks flush brightly.
“don’t call me that.” you mumble as sylus begins to slide your other foot into the shoes. his eyes stay focused on yours,
“i asked you a question, darling.” sylus chuckles as he stands up. his tall figure towers over you, your neck aching as you look up at him. you shake your head with a soft smile. he leans down, noses brushing against each other. “you look so beautiful, my love.”
the compliment is barely heard under his breath when he leans down to place a soft kiss on your lips. the kiss is deep, intimate. it turns borderline needy when you part your mouth for him. sylus takes the hint and immediately switches your positions. he has you seated on his lap, your feet dangling off the bed.
he’s careful not to mess up your hair when he cups your nape to keep you close. his left hand however isn’t as gracious. it slides up your thigh, groping the bare skin underneath the slit of your dress.
he swallows your moans, keeping them greedily to himself. your clothed cunt rubs against the rough material of his pants and it practically has you melting into him. your red lipstick is smudged, and remains of it are left on sylus’s face. as you part from your greedy lover, his left hand is already making quick work of your panties. he slides them down your hips before he lays flat on the bed. you know exactly what he’s insinuating.
“we’re gonna be late, sy. come on!” you whine, tugging on his wine colored shirt. he gently hushes you, peppering kisses to your face.
“just one taste, my love.” he manages to pull you up to his chest before you begin to resist.
“you’re gonna mess up my makeup and hair. a-and my dress!” you try to tumble out excuses, but sylus is having none of it.
“your hair won’t get messed up and you can reapply your lipstick in the car.” with a final tug, sylus has you hovering over his mouth. his tip of nose gingerly rubs against your clit, making you shiver.
“sylus…” you whine, the leather of your heels digging into the backs of your calfs. sylus’s hand slides under the strap and rubs the irritated skin before placing his hands on your hips.
“pretty girl,” he presses multiple kisses to the apex of your thighs, biting and sucking the soft skin. you twitch in his hold, hips stuttering over his face. “stay still, darling. the less you squirm, the faster we’ll be done here.”
and you try your best— you really do! sitting still, attempting to be a good girl for him is tough. with his nose bumping against your clit every few seconds has your toes curling deliciously. your fingers tug at his snow, white strands as your hips buck against him.
sylus lays below you, groping your ass from under your dress. he manages to savor the taste of you on his tongue, not letting a single drop go to waste. a hand crawls up your torso and pinches your nipple from over your dress and that sends you reeling. a tight knot forms inside your stomach— a warning.
“sylus, no. its too much!” you try to move away from him, but he’s as greedy as a dog— this is his to taste and savor. like a dog with a bone, he doesn’t budge. your hand goes over his on your chest, pinching and squeezing with him.
as your hips rock back and forth, your head tilts backwards. there’s so much happening to you right now you can’t focus. starting from the way sylus’s nose is pleasuring your clit, to his tongue curling deep inside you. not to mention his blunt fingers twirling your nipple in a painfully pleasant way. all of this, including the pain from his fingernails digging into your hips drives you so close to the edge.
sylus’s cock is throbbing at your noises, even if your thighs are muffling most of them. feeling your cunt clench around his tongue almost has him cumming in his pants. he can’t helo it, you’re far too insatiable. he questions what forsaken god even allowed you to be this stunning, to effect him so heavily.
you invade his mind, his body, his senses. he can’t get enough of you. even if he’s buried deep inside you, chest to chest— there truly will never be enough of you to satiate his desires. he constantly needs you near him.
your fingers harshly tug on his hair causing sylus to groan between your legs and that just does it for you. his noises, his breathy voice has you keeling— cumming all on his tongue and face. your thighs tense, your entire body feeling as though it’s going to collapse, but it never truly does. sylus is always there to catch you.
he doesn’t let a single drop go to waste, moaning and groaning at your taste.
“my sweet girl,” sylus coos when he gathers you in his lap, peppering kissing into your temples. you taste yourself on his lips when he slots his mouth into yours. you manage to glance at the clock sitting on the beside table— 22:30. you’re so late for the party.
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© ilyhaitanii - do not repost, translate, plagiarize
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kurooh · 3 months
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INTERRUPTED ! — JUJUTSU KAISEN
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⊹₊˚. he hates it when someone (or something) interrupts his time with you.
⟡ feat. gojo satoru, kento nanami, fushiguro toji, kamo choso.
⟡ warnings: 18+ content (mdni), modern au, roommates! satosugu in gojo’s, stupidity, phone calls, being walked in on, oral [m&f]. not proofread
⟡ xoxo juno: first time writing for jjk.. i’m nervous about the characterizations; i’ll write more characters for hcs if i get reqs. rbs are loved !!
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— GOJO SATORU.
“t-toru, that’s perfect, faster please,” you plea, tangling your fingers in his snowy hair and pressing his head closer to your dripping pussy. gojo lets you, whining a little as he scissors his fingers in and out of you and licks at your clit.
you inhale sharply, back bowing right off the bed; a large hand spreads your thighs impossibly wider and press them into the duvet beneath you.
“oh, i’m gonna cum,” you whine, hips jerking towards his fingers desperately. bright blue eyes latch onto yours, and he’s about to watch you fall apart when—
“yo, satoru!” your boyfriend’s roommate, geto, calls breezily from behind the door. before either of you can respond, the door opens and he strides in, looking at his phone. “what do you want for dinner tonight? i’m going to head out to go shopping and—” he looks up, and a pillow nails him right in the face.
“get out, suguru!” gojo yells, covering you with part of the duvet.
geto laughs awkwardly, a blush blooming across his face, and he apologizes quickly before stepping out and closing the door.
“also!” gojo calls, facing the door as he sits down beside you, “tonkotsu for dinner tonight!”
— NANAMI KENTO.
“fuuuck,” kento groans lowly, pressing your head further into his pelvis, his cock sliding down your throat. blond strands fan out around his head as it drops back onto the couch cushions behind him, his eyes fluttering shut.
your soft hands stroke the parts of his cock you can’t fit in your mouth, wet sounds mingling with your choking and filling the room. “angel,” he sighs, fingers soothingly rubbing against your scalp, “this is perfect, i love it when you—”
a familiar ringtone cuts his sentence off, and his face twists in aggravation as he lifts his hips, fishing his phone out of his back pocket with his free hand.
“i’m sorry. it’s ijichi.” kento answers the phone, his cock starting to soften in your mouth.
your eyes meet his as you mischievously slide off the length of his cock, your lips gently suctioned around his tip. kento sits up, his eyes widening, and he’s about to mouth something to you when you slam all the way down, placing your hands on his thighs for support.
he gasps sharply, nearly letting out a moan; he reassures ijichi, who sounds worried.
“oh, yes i’m alright. something nearly fell off my shelf is all..” his voice drifts off and his eyes become lidded, his cock hard enough to cut diamonds.
a heat rushes through your body, and you clench your thighs, removing a hand from his own. you fingers slip into your panties, rubbing at your clit as you look up at him, mouth full. on the phone, ijichi rambles on frantically about something that’s probably not even important, and kento bites his lip, slamming you down hard.
the sudden movement and force of his tip plowing into the back of your throat has you choking, pussy clenching as tears build in your eyes. he looks at you, hearts practically in his eyes, and moves the phone as far as he can from him.
“please, angel— make me cum, just like you always do.”
— FUSHIGURO TOJI.
“you like bein’ fucked like this, huh?” toji grunts, his breath coming out in hard pants, warmth fanning over your face. moaning, and desperately attempting to feel him deeper, you spread your legs impossibly wider.
“yes, toji!” you whimper, hands running down his muscled back; your nails bite crescent moons into the sweaty skin before they rake down his back as your eyes roll back into your head. “a-ah, i want you to fill me up, please—”
“don’t worry doll,” toji murmurs, beads of sweat rolling down his temple as he fucks into you much harder and unforgiving than earlier. “i-i’m gonna fuckin’ stuff you until you can’t breathe. gonna take it all like a good girl, yeah?”
you nod eagerly, eyes shining with tears while your pussy clamps down on his thick cock. he can barely breathe when you’re like this, so pretty and pliant and willing beneath him, taking his cock greedily. your tits bounce, smacking against each other due to the force of his thrusts; he palms at your ass with a large hand of his, squeezing the plush skin before slapping it.
toji can’t wait to fuck all his cum back into you.
“baby, i’m gonna fuckin’ cum—SHIT!”
his face contorts in pain, the cum rushing back down into his balls, and before you can even register what’s happening he’s pulling back and choking out curses.
“what happened, toji?” you’re at his side immediately, rubbing at his back soothingly before he pushes you away, clearly embarrassed and unhappy.
“fuckin’ hamstring cramp, god damn it.”
he rubs at the back of his thigh angrily, his cock deflating between his legs as he grunts out something scathing below his breath.
“i’m fine,” he hisses, punching the back of his leg before finally laying on his back. “fuck, i don’t know where that shit came from.”
“well, you’re getting to that age..” you tease lightly, a smile splitting your lips when he glares at you, hard, and roughly yanks you between his legs, raising them both carefully, for fear of another debilitating cramp. his half hard cock rests against his pelvis, and you stare at it briefly before he pushes you towards it.
“let’s hope you don’t have any more old man cramps, toji.” you stick your tongue out at him before leaning your head towards his tip.
“you better shut that mouth before i fill it for you, princess.”
— KAMO CHOSO.
“o-oh, fuck,” choso heaves from beneath you, his jaw slack with drool trailing down as he watches you ride his cock. the ripple of the muscle beneath the plush skin of your thighs and the soft bounce of your tits always leaves him stuttering and unable to look away from you.
“you like it, baby? want me to go a little faster?” your voice is sweet and soft as your small hands press into the muscle of his pecs for balance.
“mm mm, this is perfect..” he sighs, his back arching uncontrollably as you slowly slide upwards, leaving his tip inside you. then you sit all the way back down, shivering. “are you getting tired?”
“a little,” you smile, giggling softly as he places his hands on your hips. your voice promptly breaks into a whimper when he starts to thrust upwards, erratic and strong as his cock stretches you out and fills you up.
close to going dumb on his cock, you gasp, fingers reaching up to pinch and tweak your nipples for extra pleasure.
“c-choso, right there,” you choke out helplessly, pressure building inside you, all over and racing through each limb.
he finds himself gasping after a particularly rough drag of his cock against your ridged walls, leaving him thickening and throbbing inside you. the room fills with the heavy sound of skin smacking against skin, choso’s deep groans, and your whiny moans.
“so good, s-so good,” he mumbles, back bowing off the bed. strands of his dark brown hair are damp with sweat and sticking to his forehead and temples, the rest bouncing against his head and the pillow as he fucks you.
your mouth opens in a plea, eyes half lidded; but you snap your mouth shut and your eyes widen in some kind of panic that has him sitting up, the mood practically ruined. choso’s about to ask what went wrong when he hears a loud pounding at the door and a whiny voice calling for him.
“chosoooo!” the voice is unmistakably yūji’s, and his knocks only grow louder and rougher. “you comin’ out here or what? you’ve been gone for a while and everyone’s looking for you!”
oh, right. the party that he and yūji were hosting at their shared apartment, which is full of their closest friends and the sound of happy voices downstairs.
“i’ll be downstairs in a bit,” choso fights against the urge to snap at him, “five minutes, okay?”
“alright,” yūji finally calls back, sounding disappointed as he stops knocking and leaves you and his brother in bed together.
your eyes widen as he slowly lifts himself out of bed, clearly disappointed but gritting his teeth through it nonetheless. he pulls at the hair bands on his wrists, tying his hair into its usual spiky buns on either side of his head.
“cho!” you gasp, thighs clenching, “we’re not gonna finish up?”
“can’t,” he huffs, rubbing a hand over his face as he makes himself accept it. “we need to go downstairs, we’ve been gone for far too long.”
“i-i was gonna cum,” you whine, peeling yourself away from the bed against your will. tears form in your eyes in absolute frustration. “please don’t do this..”
he sighs before he leans in to kiss you hard. he looks at you, his face flushed and clearly just as unhappy as you are, though his feelings are hidden. “later, when everyone’s gone, i promise i’ll make you cum again and again.. you’ll be begging for me to stop, crying and shaking.”
your face heats quickly, and you look towards him happily, eagerly anticipating later.
with a sexy little laugh, he asks, “does that sound good, baby?”
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the-travelling-witch · 11 months
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𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔
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summary: your boyfriend undoubtedly loves you very much but some positions just get him going unlike any other
pairings: bachira :: nagi :: chigiri :: kaiser :: sae :: rin :: reo x fem! reader (all characters are aged up!!)
warnings: nsfw/ minors dni, i’ll put individual warnings on each part to not flood this intro but i’d say there’s a tendency for dom! character (overall pretty tame though), pet names, cursing
this is a repost because i'm moving my nsfw works onto this blog!!
blue lock masterlist
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♛ 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐀 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔
tw: creampies, slight hair pulling (f! receiving), manhandling, implied multiple rounds
Bachira is insatiable, to say the least. Chances are his stamina outlasts yours by a longshot. And he’s so absolutely enamoured with you, his favourite position is whichever one he currently has you in. Although there are some you find yourself in more often than others: namely riding him, which almost always turns into him lifting you up by the hips and slamming you back down on him; being nearly folded in half as his hands grab at the flesh of your thighs and Bachira presses you into the mattress with his weight alone; and burying your face into the pillow as he holds you up by the hips, one hand tangling in your hair. Absolutely has bent you over every piece of furniture in your home before, he’s a monster in his own right…
Fingers were dancing up your spine and pressing you down further into the cushions, accompanied by playful laughter that absolutely didn’t match Bachira’s ruthless thrusts which had you gripping onto the armrest of the couch harder. How did you get here again? Your boyfriend came home from practice… and next thing you knew he was rearranging your guts.
“Ah, Meguru… ‘s too deep, I can’t–” you panted, breathless from the effort of trying to keep up with the man behind you. Seriously, shouldn't he be tired after running around all day? Where did he take all that energy from?
“What was that? Sorry, baby, I can’t hear you over the sounds of your wet pussy.” You could practically see his smirk without even having to crane your head around. The hand on your back tangled into your hair, your body bowing as he slightly raised your head, creating a new angle for him to drive his cock into you, his balls smacking against your sensitive folds. “You want me to go deeper, ‘s that it?”
You loved this, you loved this a little too much perhaps. Whenever Bachira bent your body to his liking, almost using you however he pleased, it always left you with your thighs shaking and your eyes rolling into the back of your head. If you ever had to admit it, you might die of shame but with your walls clamping down on his cock and Bachira’s snigger ringing through the room, you had the hunch he already knew.
With his fingers leaving your hair, you fell forwards again but only momentarily before being pulled up entirely by his hand resting on your collarbones to meet his bare chest. You could feel the muscles of his abdomen against your sweat-slicked back, the way they contracted with every thrust upwards. Everytime he pulled you back down to meet him, a firm smack echoed around the room as his strong thighs collided with yours. 
“Talk to me, baby, you know I like hearing your pretty voice,” Bachira said, giving a particularly nasty snap and forcing a sharp gasp of his name from you, “especially when you sing my name like that~”
“I’m almost there, Meguru, just hngh–” 
“Me too… You can make both of us cum, right? Bet you’d like it if I did this,” your boyfriend huffed, finally showing at least a little bit of strain as he neared his release. The hand on your hip wandered to your core, his index finger pulling up the hood of your clit. When his middle finger put pressure onto the bare tip of the nub, it sent a bolt of electricity racing up your spine, making you straighten in the striker’s hold. Throwing your head back onto his shoulder you let your moans spill freely while digging your fingers into the flesh of his thigh, the other coming to rest over his on your chest. You felt the needy twitch of his cock inside of you as he groaned curses into the skin of your neck. “Shit, you’re making it pretty fucking hard to move when you clench down on me like that.”
Bachira gave a few thrusts before his hips stuttered and he pressed as far into you as he could go as warmth started to flood you and fill you up. The combination of him stuffing you full, his low moans and the practised flicks on your clit sent you straight into your high as well, cunt creaming around him as Bachira moved both hands down to your waist to stop you from trying to run from the overwhelming pleasure. 
For a few minutes, your shared panting was all that could be heard as Bachira lazily moved you up and down to ride out both your highs. You were absolutely putty in his arms, more so than before, as he carefully guided your chest to meet the couch again, all the while staying glued to your body. With his weight on top of you and his cum leaking out of you, that was when you realised: he was still hard.
“You always feel so good when you make a mess all over me.” Bachira gently uncurled his and your arms from your tangled bodies, bringing them down on the cushions so he could lay his hands on top of yours and intertwine your fingers. 
“Let me give you another one, yeah?~”
♛ 𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎
tw: cockwarming, creampies, implied exibihitionism/ voyeurism (kinda?), mentions of face-sitting, size kink /difference if you squint hard enough
Nagi is a fan of all things low-effort, not exerting himself when he sees no reason to. So why bother exhausting himself when he’s perfectly capable of making you a mess on top of him? Whether that means having you sit on his face as he eats you out ‘til your thighs are shaking on either side of his head and your hand losing its grip on the headboard or letting you ride him ‘til your legs give out and you breathlessly beg him to take over. That isn’t to say he doesn’t ever take the initiative; you can kiss your ability to walk goodbye whenever that happens though…
You loved watching your boyfriend play games. Not necessarily because of what was happening on the screen but much rather because more often than not you got to sit there for hours on end with Nagi’s thick cock nestled snugly inside of you, clad in nothing but one of his oversized shirts.
Sure, having to hold still when he was rubbing against all your weakest spots so deliciously could be considered a form of torture specifically designed for you but at the same time you felt too full to complain. Instead you merely rolled your head back onto his shoulder, bleary eyes blinking open every now and then when the mindless noises from the game sounded somewhat interesting.
Whatever he was playing didn’t seem to cooperate with him though, curses pushed through gritted teeth giving away to his frustrations. Hearing his deep groan upon having to restart the level again set off a chain event as your walls fluttered around him and you ground yourself down harder in desperate search for some friction. In return, Nagi’s hips thrust up instinctively before tightly clutching your hips to halt your movements. “Not yet, angel. Still need to beat this stupid boss…”
“Sei…” Reaching back to wind your hand into his snowy strands, you lightly raked your fingernails over his scalp and tugged his roots, which earned you a heavenly moan from your boyfriend. “Why don’t you take a break? Maybe you can focus on it better afterwards.”
“Yeah, you gonna help me relax, pretty thing?” Nagi was nosing down the back of your neck, placing open mouthed kisses to your nape as his large palms wandered under your shirt, cupping your boobs and kneading them between his fingers. You merely responded by arching into his touch and rolling your hips down on him again, accompanied by a quiet whine for him to do something, anything. “Fuck, you’re so good to me.”
Guiding your legs to rest over the armrests of his gaming chair, Nagi ran an experimental hand down to your folds, swiping through your arousal and giving your clit a quick swipe of his thumb. The short contact was enough to have you buck into his touch, a whine for more escaping your throat as you shuddered in your boyfriend’s embrace.
“Sei… Please fuck me, I need you so bad, please.”
“Eh, I guess it’s only fair. Been so patient with me, hm?” His big hands were lifting you up by the hips, pulling you off of him almost entirely before sinking you back down, slowly building  a steady pace that had your eyes rolling into the back of your head with how deep he was hitting. Nagi brought you to the peak of pleasure so quickly, you weren’t even embarrassed anymore at how eagerly you were clamping down on him.
“Shit, I’m so close, baby, don’t stop,” you panted, breath hot against the side of his neck. One of his hands left your hip only to reappear on your clit, deft fingers drawing firm circles on the little bud, boneless in his grip as he kept bouncing you on his cock. The lewd squelching of your pussy combined with Nagi’s grunts and the slapping of skin against skin had you hurtling toward your high at a dizzying speed. “‘S too much, I can’t–”
“You can and you will, pretty thing,” he huffed as your nails dug into the skin of his wrists. “Almost there, too… Let’s cum together, yeah? Gonna let me fill you up?”
Apparently that was all it took for you to come undone, your walls milking him for all he was worth as he held you tightly against himself as you tried to wind out of his arms. Tilting your head up, Nagi connected your lips in a messy kiss, one you tried your best to reciprocate, swallowing down all the moans bleeding out of you. With a few shallow thrusts upwards, his hips stuttered as his balls clenched and warmth flooded you. 
For the next couple of minutes, you both just sat there, trying to catch your breath as his cum leaked from your hole despite his cock still stuffing you. Gently massaging your sore spots, Nagi peppered light kisses all over your temple and cheeks as you simply gazed at him in bliss.
The peaceful atmosphere was broken however when the sound of an incoming discord call rang through the room. Looking at the screen you could vaguely make out Reo’s name before the cursor hovered over the ‘accept’ button, Nagi’s dick twitching back to life.
“Wanna play a game, angel?”
♛ 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐈 𝐇𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐀
tw: oral (f! receiving), hair pulling (m!receiving), oral (m! receiving) implied
Any position in which you can pull on Chigiri’s cherry red locks is a good position in his eyes. Be that tangling your fingers in the strands at his nape while he gazes down on you oh so sweetly in missionary or reaching your hand back to find something to hold on to and ground yourself as he angles his hips deeper into you with your back pressed to his chest. If he had to pick a favourite, however, it would be how you grasp desperately at his hair to pull him where you need him most when he goes down on you…
His shoulders nudged your legs apart further as Chigiri settled between them, at the same time smoothing his hands up the back of your legs to push them up with him. You could feel the adrenaline pulsing through you, shifting along the mattress as his bright eyes drank in the sight in front of him. He watched intensely as your glistening pussy clenched around nothing in anticipation, slick leaking from your slit.
“Don’t you look delicious, sweetheart?” His soft voice drifted to your ears as the pad of his fingers gathered your arousal. Holding them up for you to see, the webbing between the digits was clearly visible in the dim light as he spread them. “All for me, hmm? Are you this wet just because of me?”
“Yeah, of course,” you smiled, one hand cupping his cheek as Chigiri propped himself up. “It’s only ever because of you.”
His pillowy lips broke into a grin as he feathered kisses from your knee up your inner thigh, guiding your legs to rest over his shoulders and frame his beautiful face in the same motion. “You really do know what a man likes to hear.”
“It’s the truth though, nobody’s ever made me feel this way before. In any aspect of life,” you whispered, searching for his hand on the mattress to intertwine yours with it.
You gladly pushed your torso forward to meet your boyfriend halfway as he pressed his lips to yours. Carding your fingers through the strands behind his ear, you scraped your nails across his scalp, making him moan into your mouth as he deepened the kiss. Tongues tangling together and spit dribbling down your chin, you had to break the contact to catch your breaths, Chigiri’s panting heating up the crook of your neck.
Hungry red eyes bored into yours as he swiped some of your mixed saliva from the corner of your lips. “Please let me show you how much hearing that means to me. You’ll let me make you feel good, right angel?” 
Chigiri could feel the vibrations of your hum against his lips as he slowly kissed his way back down your body. His free hand wrapped around your thigh to keep you close to him as he took his previous spot between your legs, breath fanning your sensitive folds.
You gripped his hand harder as he gave the first experimental lick up the length of your pussy, thoroughly riled up from his treatment beforehand. Groaning as you slick coated his flattened tongue, your boyfriend pressed his hips into the mattress, searching for friction to relieve the bulge straining against his sweats. 
“Ah shit, you taste so sweet, how’s it always so good?” Chigiri said, voice muffled by your core and sending sparks straight through you. He watched with rapt attention as your back bowed off the bed when he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked firmly.
More slick poured from you and coated the lower half of his face as he pried your folds apart with his wet muscle just to hear your beautiful whimpers, which doubled in volume as he sunk his tongue into you. There was no denying how much you desired this, desired him, as you immediately clenched around the intrusion. 
But you wanted -needed- more of him. With a dazed sigh of his name, your fingers tangled in his fiery strands and tugged him further into your heat. Mindlessly rutting against the bed at the sting on his scalp, more angelic groans spilled directly into you as Chigiri’s long lashes fluttered shut. The position he currently had you in, allowed his nose to rub against your bundle of nerves with every movement and it had your thighs clasping around the sides of his face, threatening to suffocate him.
The striker didn’t even seem fazed by it, in fact, his actions became more enthusiastic, driven by the goal to bring you to the peak of pleasure. And he knew you were almost there as your hips bucked upwards, trying to grind against him with his hair still secure in your fist. 
By the time the coil in your stomach unravelled, there was no way the two of you could physically be any closer, even though you tried your hardest as you pressed your heels into his shoulder blades and curled your toes. Spurred on by the high-pitched whines and whimpers escaping you as your movements stuttered, Chigiri lapped up every single drop of cum you offered, completely drunk on your taste.
Swallowing heavily as your boyfriend gently set your legs down on the mattress again, massaging your calves as he did, you gave him a breathless smile. Sitting on his knees, he cast one last glance at your glossy pussy, glistening with a mixture of your release and his spit. The sight made his dick twitch with need as he licked his lips, which were stained with you.
Crawling back up your body, Chigiri carefully sunk down in order not to crush you under his weight as you wrapped one arm around his neck while the other travelled down the planes of his back.
“Did that feel good?” he asked, cherry eyes searching your own for any sort of discomfort as he trailed his palm up and down your side without any sort of direction. “Could I deliver my message well?”
“You did amazing as always, Hyoma,” you grinned, watching as his eyes widened and his hips jerked forward when your fingers dipped into his sweats and cupped his bulge through his boxers. “You’ll allow me to return the favour, won’t you pretty boy?”
♛ 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐋
tw: oral (m! receiving), deep throating, kaiser is a little mean, slight dacryphilia, sir kink (once) 
Kaiser is a sadist and frankly… a bit of an asshole. He’ll coo at you when heat spreads through you out of embarrassment and gets off on seeing tears of pleasure, overstimulation or frustration stain your face. Having you completely spread in front of a mirror as he toys with you really gets him going. Not only does he get to see all of you, no, he can also make you watch yourself unravel for him and only him. It’s a sight that can only be matched by you on your knees between his legs, worshipping him like a king… 
“You like this, don’t you?” Kaiser was smirking down at you, his tone mocking but he was right. You hated how his taunts made your stomach churn with want and your panties soak with your own arousal. “Oh, forgot you can’t talk with my dick down your throat. Apologies, princess.”
A whimper escaped you as he pulled you off of him, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his glossy tip. Mascara was running down your cheeks and your lipstick was smeared across your lips, stains of the same shade wrapping around his cock, all the way down to the base; you looked so fucked out already and Kaiser was living for it. “Go on now, tell me how much you like this.”
“Yes, Mi-“ a tug at your hair cut you off. When you looked up to meet his eyes, you shivered at the chilly raise of his brow. “Y-Yes Sir, love it. Love it so much.”
“That’s a good girl. Now put your money where your mouth is.” Sliding his hand down to hold your chin between his fingers, he tapped his cock head against your lips, the salty taste of his precum hitting your taste buds. “Come on, open up for me, princess.”
You flicked your eyes from his dick back up to his as you opened your mouth again, tongue lolling out as you took in his form looming over you. His lips curled up at the corners to see you so obedient for him. Sinking into your warmth again, Kaiser huffed out a groan as he held you still, going slow until your lips stretched around the base of his cock. With your nose pressing against his trimmed pubes, tears welling in your eyes as the breaths from your nose fanned against his skin, he held you there for a little, indulging in the clenching of your tight throat around his tip as you tried not to gag.
But that was as far as your boyfriend was willing to test his patience that day. The way your tongue ran against the sensitive vein on the underside of his heavy shaft had his balls tightening as he tried to starve off his release as long as possible. As his hips jerked forward the first time on their own, he took it as his cue to start thrusting.
Your eyes screwed shut and you had to dig your nails into the muscles of his thighs, not caring at all whether his shorts would cover the marks the next day, as his tip hit the back of your throat over and over. Saliva pooled on your tongue, spilled over your lips, dribbled down your chin and onto your chest. The lewd sight had his abs contracting as his cock twitched against your pink muscle.
Pushing his bangs out of his face before bringing his palm from your chin to the back of your head as he leaned back on the hand propping him up on the bed, Kaiser pushed you down on him completely once again as his musky scent invaded your senses. You rubbed your thighs together to relieve some of the tension as you took in the light shining onto the slight sheen of sweat coating his skin, his hair messed up from running his fingers through it, looking downright ethereal.
“Look at me while you swallow everything I give you, princess,” he gritted out as he shallowly ground his pelvis into you until his hips stuttered. With your teary eyes fixed on his again, he let a guttural groan slip from his lips as he tipped his head back and ropes of hot cum shot down your throat. “Don’t waste a single drop, got it?”
Letting you pull off his dick, he closely watched the way your throat bobbed as you swallowed. He scooped up a drop that escaped the corner of your lips with his thumb and pushed it back into your mouth, smirking as you diligently sucked the digit clean.
“As much as I love seeing you on your knees, I think you earned yourself a reward. Come here, pretty,” he said, holding out his hand for you and pulling you up to stand between his legs, sniggering when you lightly stumbled as you stretched your legs again. Pushing your hair out of your face he gave you a sweet peck before turning you around and guiding you down until you sat between his spread thighs with your back to his chest. 
As he trailed kisses from the back of your hand all the way to your shoulder blade and hooked your knees over his muscles, you finally understood what Kaiser was playing at when you raised your head and met his half-lidded gaze in the floor-length mirror across from you.
Your cheeks flared with heat as your eyes flitted across your exposed form, the wet spot on your underwear clearly visible to the both of you, as you tried to close your legs in shame only to be stopped by a large palm.
“Why so shy all of a sudden? I just want you to see how gorgeous you look when I make you cum, so keep your pretty eyes on that mirror,” he whispered against the shell of your ear, his fingers dipping into the waistband of your panties. “After all, a princess is meant to be shown off, wouldn’t you agree?”
♛ 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐄
tw: mean dom! sae, blindfolds, edging, implied overstimulation, fingering (f! receiving), name calling (slut), slight degradation, mentions of dacryphilia
Sae loves reducing you to a whimpering mess before he even thinks about fucking you deep into the mattress, his cerulean gaze sharp and almost painfully neutral. His favourite way of achieving just that has to be fingering you for what feels like hours. Not only is he stretching you nicely to take all he gives you later on, it also allows him to run that mean mouth of his. Whether he’s edging you mercilessly or making you cum so often you barely remember your own name is a gamble though…
The room was positively spinning, you felt like falling despite being propped up against the pillows on your bed. Sweat slicked up your skin as you dug your fingernails into your palms, certain that half-moons would be visible even the next day.
“Sae, no more, please. I’m sorry,” you sobbed, voice hoarse from pleading with your boyfriend for what felt like hours. With the blindfold covering your eyes you couldn’t see the way Sae’s lips tugged up at the corners as he took in your messy hair and the tear tracks visible even with the black fabric wrapped around your head. Your thighs were coated with your own slick as Sae had brought you to the brink of an orgasm more times than you wanted to count before cruelly ripping it away from you again.
“Are you? I’m not so sure,” his voice was painfully neutral as he circled your puffy folds again, lazily running his fingers over your slit but not with enough pressure to actually satisfy you. Against your better judgement, your hips twitched up to chase his touch which only made him pull away entirely with a tut. “After all, I made it pretty clear you shouldn’t touch yourself while I was still at work and yet, what do I find when I come home? My pretty little girlfriend with her fingers stuffed in her messy cunt.”
The harsh tug at your nipple ripped a groan from you. You felt his hand trace down from the valley between your breasts, over your stomach leaving a featherlight trail of goosebumps in its wake, Sae softly humming as you shuddered. His other hand smoothed up your thigh, the simple action alone tightening the coil in your stomach again, too sensitive from your ruined orgasms. It settled at your hips, rubbing small circles into the bone, an unspoken apology for what was about to happen next.
You threw your head back into the pillows with a strangled moan as he pressed two fingers onto your throbbing clit, hurtling you down the path to another high he’d possibly take away from you again. Your babbling from before started once more, begging him to finally let you cum.
“Aren’t you enjoying your punishment a little too much, you little slut? I mean, look at you,” he chided. With his thumb continuing to press down on your twitching nub, his middle and ring finger met no resistance as he thrust them into your drenched cunt. Sae knew your body like the back of his hand, so he had absolutely no trouble finding the spot that made your knees jerk up against your will. “You want to cum, is that it? Do you think you deserve it?”
“Yes Sae, please! I’m sorry, I’m sorry… Please I won’t do it again, please.” If you could hear anything over the blood rushing through your ears, your whimpers would seem pathetic even to you. But right now, the only thing on your mind was your boyfriend’s fingers rhythmically pushing in and out of your pussy with a wet squelch as you gripped the sheets as if your life depended on it.
“Hmm, I guess you’ve behaved well enough, even kept your hands to yourself,” he mused, his tone still cool but his movements didn’t stop. “Go on and make a mess then before I rethink my decision again.”
A constant string of ‘thank you’s tumbled from your lips as you finally fell over the edge of pleasure, Sae keeping his thrusts steady even as your walls clamped down on him furiously and white hot fire set your whole body ablaze.
As you gradually came down from your high, panting to fill your lungs with much needed air, two fingers slipped under the material covering your eyes and gently pulled it off of you. You blinked your bleary eyes open at the sensation of soft lips pressing against your temple. But your attention was soon drawn to the light tap of his cock head against your clit which had you whimpering, no idea when Sae had undressed.
“What’s wrong? You said you wanted to cum right? I’m just giving my slut what she wants.”
♛ 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐑𝐈𝐍
tw: size kink, implied multiple rounds, light marking
It has become somewhat of a routine for the two of you to shower together. While it doesn’t always end up in shower sex, Rin comes home pent-up from practice often enough and who are you to deny him (and yourself) the pleasure of sudsy hands roaming your body, feeling you up and kneading at your soft curves before he inevitably presses you into the cool shower tiles? Although, some nights, you find yourself in the shower again only a few hours later to wash away the remnants of the following round(s)...
Steam curled around your body, rising from your skin and fogging the bathroom mirror. But the water was nothing against the heat pooling in your stomach, your soft moans drowned out by the splashing of the drops. To the man behind you, they were still clearly audible though, his chest pressed firmly against your back as his hands roamed every inch of your skin. 
Rin held you up with his arm wrapped tightly around your waist as he ground his hard cock between your ass cheeks with a low grunt. “I missed you today. So much.”
“I missed you too, baby,” you crooned, leaning your full weight into him. The wandering of his hands came to a halt, fingers running over your slit.  “Fuck, Rin, I need you, please fill me up.”
“Are you sure, love? Let me prep you at least a little–”
“I can take it,” you cut him off, grinding back against him. “Just– Just go slow.”
“If that’s what you want. Tell me if it hurts, yeah?” Trapping one of your hands against the shower wall, he intertwined his long fingers with yours as well as he could. The arm that previously held you steady now grabbed onto your hips, pulling them back to slightly bend you over. Stuffing his cock between your legs to coat himself in your arousal, his light thrusts through your folds had his cockhead catch your clit with every movement. “Ready?”
You barely managed to squeak out the words before you already felt him prod at your core. Even just the mushroom-headed tip stretched you so well, you parted your lips in a silent scream, head hanging low as you focused on standing upright. Inch by inch, Rin continued to sink into you and you could feel every vein drag against your walls agonisingly slow. When he grazed past your sweet spot, you offered a small sob as you clenched down on him.
“It’s okay, baby, you’re doing so well,” he whispered against your shoulder, peppering conciliatory kisses along your skin, sucking a bruise into the juncture of your neck before moving up towards your jaw. “You’re always so good to me, aren’t you?”
By the time his hips were finally snug against your ass, you swore you could feel him in your lungs. Letting go of your hips, his hand came around to press down on the bulge in your stomach, feeling himself nestled inside of you so deeply. Then, he dipped your head back to connect your lips, the initially sweet kiss growing messier until you started whining into his mouth to finally move.
Rin wasted no time giving you what you wanted, revelling in the way you arched back into him as he slowly dragged out of you, groaning as your pussy didn’t want to let go of him. Building up to a steady pace, it didn’t take long for your legs to wobble slightly. He pulled you tightly against him, using his palm against your boob as leverage for his thrusts. 
“Ah~ Rin, ‘s too much, you’re too big.” Your moans bounced off the walls, breathless as you clung to his arm. “Keep going, don’t stop!”
“Saying it’s too much and then whining for more? Can’t make up your mind, huh? Let me decide for you, then,” your boyfriend grunted. Gripping the back of your knee, he folded it up to your chest, spreading you open wide to angle his hips better, deeper, into your cunt. Pinching your nipple between his fingers as he reached around you to play with your clit. “At least your cunt knows what she wants, clamping down on me so damn tightly… you’re close aren’t you?”
“Yes, yes, god Rin, yes. Please make me cum!” you nearly yelled. “Only you– Fuck, only you can make me feel this good.”
“That’s right, now show me how good you look cumming on my cock.” His words were searing against your neck as you crumbled underneath him. You quivered in his arms as he shushed you, gently setting your knee back down and running the flat of palms down your sides. When you had stopped grinding back into him in a post-orgasmic haze, Rin pulled out and spun you around.
Hoisting you up with his hands grabbing at the fat of your ass, the striker caged you against the wall as you wrapped your legs around his hips. Cradling the back of your head in his large palm, he took in your fucked out expression with half-lidded eyes before stealing all air from your lungs again in a hungry kiss. He swiped his tongue along your bottom lip, asking for entry which you gladly granted. Tangling your tongues together, it still wasn’t enough to distract you from the way he lined himself up with your cunt again.
“Gorgeous as always,” he mumbled against your lips, cerulean eyes focused solely on you. “You can do that again for me, right? Want you to cum with me this time.”
♛ 𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐎
tw: switch! reo, soft dom! reo, lingerie, bondage, face-sitting, fingering (f! receiving), oral (f!receiving), light marking, praise, pet names, mentions of exhibitionism
Reo and you are on equal playing grounds both in and outside the bedroom. Taking turns teasing each other, riling the other up until they can’t take it anymore, that’s what makes being with Reo fun. You never know what to expect when you get intimate with him; will you watch as you order him to get himself off before you even think about touching him or will Reo have your nude form pressed against the glass of the floor-to-ceiling windows of his penthouse? Perhaps neither of you will take control as you exchange slow caresses, drunk on the taste of each other? As always, Reo does it all and he does it so perfectly… 
“Don’t you look gorgeous, baby?” Lithe fingers danced across the red silk binding your thighs together, experimentally hooking his index and middle finger under the material, effectively pulling your exposed core closer to his face.
The plan for this night had been to tease him, the pretty lingerie you had put on especially for that sake lying discarded somewhere between the door and bed. Reo had apparently had a similar incentive this time around, not willing to hand over the reins so readily and the flimsy material you wore only spurred him on as he produced the red bindings from behind his back.
In his defence, you didn’t put up much of a fight as he crowded you against the bed, his large hands running up your spine to unclasp the lacey bra. As he slid the straps off your shoulders, his mouth busied itself by sucking blooming purple marks against your skin while you felt up the muscles underneath his shirt. The second his hands were free, one of them clasped both your wrists behind your back before loosely wrapping the silk around them.
“This okay, bunny?” he whispered against the shell of your ear and, frankly, the speed at which you nodded should have been embarrassing but you were way too curious to find out where this was going. The striker chuckled at your eager response, fastening the glossy red against your skin. “Aren’t you just the cutest? Don’t worry, I’ll make it worth your while.”
That was how you found yourself with your knees on either side of Reo’s head, quivering from both the effort to keep yourself upright and his tongue flicking continuously against your clit. You could feel the slick leaking out of you, pooling on the lower half of your boyfriend’s face as his fingers diligently worked you up to your orgasm. Curling his digits into you, he was searching for that one spot that always had you seeing stars and when he found it, you rocked your hips forward with a needy whine, trying to grind down on him to the best of your abilities.
With glossy eyes, you watched as Reo’s crinkled in amusement at your desperation, deliberately pressing into your sweet spot over and over to see you fall apart for him. Fire was licking up your spine as you wriggled in his grasp, the hand on your back immediately holding onto your bound wrists when he noticed you were about to topple over. Pulling your arms down, he arched your back to only press you further into him.
He shushed your cries of his name gently, the vibrations of his voice sending sparks directly into your bundle of nerves. “You’re doing so well for me. Now show me how good I make you feel when you cum all over my fingers and tongue, yeah?”
By now, you were reliant on the way he held you up, your own bones seemingly turned to jelly as his mouth wrapped around your clit, gently sucking on it and giving the faintest graze of his teeth against it. The effect was instantaneous as you hiccuped his name, the tight knot in your stomach snapping as you released all over him.
“Fuck, that’s it, baby,” letting you ride out your orgasm before slowly pulling his fingers from your pussy and licking them clean, his grin was finally visible to you. Smoothing his hands up your trembling thighs, he squished the flesh around the silk, a mischievous glint in his violet eyes.
“Let’s see what else we can use this for, now that I already have you like this.”
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saturnsorbits · 4 months
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LiSyK: Lesson One
Fandom: My Hero Academia, Warnings: Prince!Bakugo, Concubine Reader and Kirishima, Smut, Voyeurism, Unprotected Sex, Unprepared Sex, Cum Eating (Kinda). Word Count: 5k.
A/N: So, it's a series... No regular uploads, I'm just going to see where it goes.
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Bakugo claps his hands, the sound echoing around the chamber like a rifle shot. 'You'll find my bed behind you.'
You blanch. 'Your bed, my lord?'
Concubines were a fixture of the royal rooms and have been for as long as anyone could remember. It wasn't unusual to see a collection of beautiful men and women lounging in living rooms or bedrooms, their skin almost entirely bare with only silk and gold to adorn them. Some, if favoured enough, were even gifted their own rooms were they could entertain their lord at their leisure.
And yet, it was unheard of to entertain a prince in his own chambers.
'Is there something wrong with my bed?' Bakugo's voice is a growl, low and deadly in the back of his throat. The idea of seeing you, the two of you, in his own bed sets up a stirring in his groin – one the demands to have its reward.
'No... No, I -.'
Kirishima's voice is an even timber when he steps in, easily picking up where your babbling had left you off. 'To share your personal bed chamber is a true honour, my lord.'
You curtsey, bowing you head low, thankful for the out.
The implications of Bakugo's excitement swarm in his head, but the buzzing never comes close to dampening his desire. Nodding towards the bed, he clenches his jaw tight. He'll deal with whatever fall out that comes later, right now... Both his heart and cock are set on this. 'Continue.'
Perching on the edge of the bed, you scoot backwards until your back presses against the plush cushions piled at the headboard. You can feel your pulse migrate, its steady rhythm sinking lower and lower until you're forced to resist the urge to cover your sex.
At the foot of the bed stands Kirishima. He smiles, soft and without his teeth, the apples of his cheeks swelling as he tries to render you at ease. The bump of his throat bobs as he leans forward, hands braced on the mattress as he prepares the advance on you, but before he can move, Bakugo's voice is ringing out clear from across the room.
Even across the room, Bakugo's throne feels far too close for comfort. He perches there, one knee raised with all the posture of a boy king. Atop his head the gold circlet of his crown sits off centre, the mess of his hair forcing it to tip towards his forehead. Beneath, his ruby eyes shine – deadly in their stare as he grips the edges of his chair with an almost white-knuckled force.
'Strip.' It's a command. One he's glad doesn't slip from his tongue with the anxiety that bubbles in his stomach. The acid is thick there, anticipation turning to bile as he fidgets, hoping neither of you can see his cock already raising to half mast under his trousers. 'Bare yourself to us.'
You swallow, tasting trepidation at the back of your tongue as you sit up and work at the straps of your covering. You'd been gifted new clothing after being chosen by the prince, upgrading your simple cloth rags for finer silks and golden bands. Now, a thin silken top cascades over your chest, the folds of the material deep and red, like waves of fresh fire licking at your skin. At your neck, a chain keeps the material from falling as it hangs from your golden collar.
The collar bares a series of symbols. Those for both the house of Bakugo, granting you movement throughout the entire fortress and those for the prince himself: a mark of his ownership. The chain wraps your back too, meeting in a clasp that you quickly undo, allowing the material to sink and expose the edges of your breasts as you work at loosing the chain to let the entire article slip away.
Kirishima's eyes linger. He can't help it. The fabric covering you slips to the mattress and immediately leaves you bare. Soft tits fill his vision, the gentle rise and fall of your chest making them jiggle slightly as you try and calm your breathing. His palms are sweating, making him thankful for the bedsheets under his hands and his voice demands he speak words of praise and devotion, even despite his not having permission to utter a word.
For the prince to be able to touch you seems obvious, for you're nothing short of a royal gift, but for him... He's not quite sure how he managed to get so lucky to be allowed to lay his eyes on a treasure such as you.
'Show him everything.' Bakugo clicks his tongue. His fist is balled in his pants, pulling them from his crotch to save their staining. Shifting in his seat, he attempts to hide his arousal. Not for the first time, he's glad he placed himself away from your gazes.
'Yes, my lord.' Your breathing catches as you unbuckle the silk skirt at your hips. You'd been denied underthings. Such items are inconvenient for the prince, should his cock wish to be buried in your tight heat at short notice. Instead, leather straps sit at your hips with long silken strips of material stitched to their edges. Falling to mid calf, the material flows effortlessly with your movement just as it drifts easily to the floor now as you unbuckle it.
'Knees apart.'
You comply, sensing the tightness in the princes voice and drop your knees, exposing the softness of your inner thighs and the sweetness of your sex to the air.
You're dripping. Even from this distance Kirishima can tell. There's a sheen coating your skin, a slick mix of arousal that gives off a heady scent. It infests his lungs, soaks into the roof of his mouth as he drags more of your aroma into him with each breath. His fingers twitch on the mattress gathering more sheet between them as he tries to stop himself from moving too soon and gaining the punishment of the prince.
Bakugo leans so far off his throne he's not confident he won't fall. He's never smelt sex before, but if it smells anything like you do, he's not sure he'll ever be able to be without it. Your musk is an aphrodisiac, making his mouth water and his cock twitch as he gives up attempting to hide his erection. Reaching for his belt, he loosens the buckle and reaches into his pants squeezing around the base of his cock as he pulls it into the air.
The princes cock is average in length. Delicate, almost, in how it bends slightly to the left – the rose petal head rounded and plump, dribbling more than it's fair share of pre-cum down the man's fist. Along the pale shaft, a series of purpling vein's break up the tone. Most are wide, pulsing with his heartbeat and splaying as they reach his base, where a delicate crop of blonde hair obscures the rest. It's darker than the hair on his head, closer to the brown of his fathers as it trails, reaching up over the muscle of his stomach and beyond.
Kirishima gulps, quickly snapping his gaze from over his shoulder and back to you. He can't say for certain, but he's pretty sure he has a bigger cock than the prince.
It should be an ego boost, something to brag about in those few moments of peace he's awarded outside of his royal duty, except there's just one thing he's worried about.
You.
'Stretch yourself...' Clenching his teeth, Bakugo refuses to show his breathlessness. His cock kicks in his hand, demanding a friction he withholds; but even with his precaution, there's no removing his affliction entirely from his visage. He straightens, rolling his shoulders to flatten against the back of his throne. Still, greed and longing sink into his tone. 'Let me see.'
Reaching between your thighs, you do as your told. The stickiness of your cunt clings to your fingers immediately, your clit twitching as clumsy fingers spread into a 'V' to expose your insides.
'Fuck.' The word trips from Kirishima's tongue carelessly and drops into the air like the last firework at new year. Around him, the world freezes – the muscles of his shoulders tense as he watches your abdomen hitch. He hadn't been given permission to speak. For all he knows, your allure has truly become the end of him. After all, it isn't unknown for rulers to punish their concubines for far less than speaking out of turn.
Bakugo clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth and savours the knot that appears in the centre of Kirishima's back. The muscles bunch, writhing in a manner that makes him wonders if he could recreate it. 'Yeah...' He sighs. 'Fuck.' Coughing the delicacy from his voice, he licks over his lips before addressing the scene again. 'You. Kirishima. Strip.'
Kirishima complies in a heartbeat.
His loin cloth is much like yours in design, a thick strip of leather wrapping his waist just below his navel that buckles at either hip. Attached is the same material, thin and translucent and falling to mid-thigh; sheer enough to almost see the heft of his cock as it lays against his thighs.
Thick fingers work at the buckles, nimbly loosening the leather until he can swiftly shuck the material down his legs and discard it with a flick of his foot.
From his throne, Bakugo has to bite back the groan that threatens to rock through his chest and spill into the air. His mouth waters. Kirishima's cock is larger than he'd expected... A lot larger than he'd expected.
It bends under it's own weight, almost hanging despite his being fully hard. His foreskin is dark, a flush of deep mauve that slips back just enough to expose a slither of dark cherry head. Pre-cum leaks from him like a tap. It glistens on his skin, making the two thick vein's that raise from his skin just below his head glow in vague purple as they pulse. The crop of hair at his base is thick and black, a stark contrast to his own pale, downy hair.
Bakugo swallows, ridding his throat of the desire to be full. His tongue flattens to the roof of his mouth, his taste buds desperate for a lick of whatever divine nector drips from the pair of you. 'Go on then...' He barks, excitement flooding his bloodstream as he attempts to maintain some kind of dignity with his hand still squeezing the base of his cock. 'Fuck her.'
'I... Uhm,' Kirishima's cock bobs, threatening to steal his cohesion. He struggles to remember his teachings, a million and one things racing through his mind as he tries to remember the diagrams and words of the old mothers. 'I need to, to... Prepare her first.'
'Of course.' Bakugo frowns. He knew that. Of course, he knew that – he's eager, that's all. Maybe a little too eager.
'Can... Can I?' Kirishima's eyes shine when he brings them up to meet you. There's a gentleness there, a softness that barely disguises the blind pleasure that coils his stomach into knots. He reaches forward, a hand brushing the skin of your shin as his thumb draws an awkward half-circle in your calve.
You nod. With your fingers still spreading your cunt, you can feel the rush of slick that gathers there as you wait under his gaze for your devouring. It coats your fingers, leaving strings of pearl on your skin like jewellery.
Kirishima climbs up onto the bed, forcing it to dip under his weight. You feel bare laying there, exposed, as you watch his eyes dip between your legs and grows hungry. Fighting the urge to snap shut your legs and scramble away, you force yourself to relax. No-one has seen you quite like this before. Your intimacies have always been your own, exposed only to the King's consort Inko to confirm your virginity before a bright 'V' had been painted on your chest.
You wonder if you're pretty down there. If you look appealing... Fuckable.
A large hand wraps your thigh, a reassuring squeeze drawing you from your thoughts and back into the moment. Kirishima smiles, the tips of his teeth worrying his bottom lip as he reaches out with his other arm and hovers centimetres away from your sex. He catches your eye, eyebrows raising slightly on his forehead as the corner of his mouth twitches upwards. 'You'll tell me if you want me to stop, won't you?'
There's a trepidation lingering under his skin, the kind of anxiety that is laced with excitement and easily highlights his inexperience and yet, his movements are sure when he finally touches you.
The pad of his thumb swipes at your clit making your back arch. Your eyes widen as the breath is taken from your lungs, a soft gasp leaping from your mouth. You become aware of your body then, more aware than you've ever been as the tingles of pleasure begin to recede with his touch. It leaves you raw and desperate, hips lifting from the bed in order to seek him out once more.
'Louder.' Bakugo's voice is broken. His cock still sit in his hand, pulsing angrily at it's neglect. Already he can feel his balls pulling up tight against him, threatening an end to something he hasn't even been able to start yet. 'Make her louder.'
Kirishima repeats the action. This time, the pad of his thumb presses harder, circling, until he earns another gasp from your lungs. He's surprised to learn that you're soft. Softer than he'd expected. You're so wet he can feel it clinging to his skin, the heat radiating through his thumb and making his mouth water. Against the mattress his cock stirs, smearing pre-cum against his stomach as he grinds down, offering himself only the smallest amounts of relief. He licks his teeth. 'Can...' His thumb moves lower, slipping off the wet hood of your clit and hovering over your entrance. 'Can I?'
'Please.' Lifting your hips from the bed, you attempt to rub his thumb back over your clit, desperate for more of his touch. You don't know what he's offering, you're not sure you care as long as it means you get to feel his hands on you again. 'Please...'
With your permission, Kirishima presses into you until you squeeze around the base of his thumb. You're hot inside, your walls silken and soaking, tightening around him as he pulls back out, testing your reactions. His eyes flicker to yours, a quick check in before he twists his wrist and offers you two fingers. This time you struggle with the stretch. He can feel it, the flutter in your walls as you breathe through the intrusion, but soon enough, you're relaxing, sucking him in and whining soft and breathy above him.
Your voice doesn't feel like your own. Each noise that escapes you is new, sinfully sweet as it escapes your throat and floats through the air. The women at the temple may have trained you, but they had never prepared you for this. Their lessons had always been focused on pleasing, not being pleased – the pillow dances and allure routines, all of it was useless here with you on your back and a man's thick fingers pressing up into the spongy roof of your cunt.
You writhe as a pressure builds below your pubic bone, encouraging a series of moans to leak from your mouth. It feels as though you might burst as your cunt clenches, but before you can discover just what comes next Bakugo's voice is spilling into the room and Kirishima's fingers still inside of you.
Bakugo is hanging on by a thread. His cock has gone pale with his grip around the base, his balls pulled so tight he can feel his pulse beating through them. Still, he refuses to embarrass himself. Not without seeing what he came to see. 'That's enough...' He speaks through his teeth, gritting out his words. 'Fuck her already.'
Kirishima looks to you before he moves. His brow is set, his eyes cool as he waits for your permission once again. He crawls over you until his arms bracket your shoulders, your chests almost level.
You look stunning like this, your lips shining, eyes wide and watery as you heave in deep, steadying breaths. There's no denying that he wants you, the sheer fact he's been allowed to touch you alone has his cock jumping against his stomach, but his mother's taught him to be respectful before anything else and so, he waits...
'I said...' Bakugo growls, but before he can finish his sentence, you're shifting.
Looking between you body and Kirishima's, you stifle a squeak as you see just what you have to contend with. Lined up as he is, it seems as though he'd reach your navel with ease – a far from appetising idea and yet, there's a yearning that spreads from the curve of your stomach to the depths of your cunt. One that has your insides tingling.
You don't care how big he is.
Don't care if it'll hurt.
As a matter of fact... A small piece of you wishes it will.
You reach between your legs, petting over your pubic hair until you can smooth your fingers across the twitching peak of your clit. A breathy whine slips from between your lips, but you continue, denying yourself in the quest for something more. Slipping further, you take two of your own fingers and arc your spine, feeling the beating of your cunt squeezing around you softly. With the other hand, you lean forward, taking Kirishima's cock in your palm and giving it a slow, gentle tug.
The man shudders at your touch. His whole body quakes at the faintest gripping of your fingertips, thick muscles rippling like he might collapse. Locking his elbows, he narrowly avoids falling on top of you as you ease him down and press his tip to your clit. He's panting openly now, his chest heaving as he struggles against the sin of your hands. If he's like this now, he dares not to think of what the tight heat of your cunt will do to him.
Tapping him against you once, twice – you enjoy each jolt of pleasure as it zips down your legs. It leaves you tingling and wanting more as you finally, finally line him up with your entrance. His cock catches against you, but before you can bask in the power you hold over him, Kirishima slips his hand between your bodies and collects your wrists in one, large palm.
He doesn't speak when he pins your hands above your head, he doesn't think he can. Instead, he holds your eye and hopes you can see what you're doing to him. Shifting his hips, he rocks into you and almost sees the Gods when the head of his cock sinks into you. You feel divine, hot and wet and tight and begging for his release. He breathes, unsure just how long he'll last. For a moment he waits, giving you just the tip and nothing more, waiting for the both of you to adjust.
The stretch he gives you is impossible. Even with so little of him inside of you, you feel full, incapable of taking the more you know he's going to give you. There's a burn radiating through your pelvis, a persistent, but delectable pain that subsides only as you breathe through it. You moan, a pretty noise escaping your throat as you feel him rut just a little deeper, taking the air from your lungs. Fisting your hands in whatever bedsheets you can find, your ribcage lifts from the bed, tits pressing flush with Kirishima's chest.
Bakugo thinks he might explode. He can see the rim of your cunt, Kirishima's cock stuffing it full and barley a quarter in. It's exhilarating as he watches both of you shiver, trying to hold it together as much as possible. Loosening his grip on his cock, he chances a slow, but firm pull upwards and quickly regrets it.
You moan, eyes rolling as flick up your hips as harshly as you can. The movement sheaths him further inside of you, dragging a harsh grunt out of his lungs as he falters. His cock presses up into you, bringing tears to your eyes as he slides back out almost immediately, but his fullness isn't a sensation you're willing to give up. Desperation claws at you, begs you for more, for a release you're dying to experience. 'Please, please, please...'
You're incensed, but then again, so is Kirishima.
Maybe that's why he gives you what you want, despite knowing you probably can't take it. Dipping his head to your neck, he rolls his hips to fill you completely and hopes he he can hold out long enough to please both you and the prince.
Your body struggles, cunt pulsing with that familiar sweet throb as he stills his movements once more and waits. You feel light headed, your body pulled taught as you hiccup through your next few breaths.
Teeth graze the junction of your shoulder, a whispered 'Is it too much?' tickling your ear before you feel the slow sensation of him pulling out. You move instantly. Wrapping your legs around him, you stop his retreat and squeeze tight, anxious to keep him inside, to be stretched and full.
The moan he lets out is pure sin. It's deep, guttural, lingering in his throat as he rocks his hips back into you and basks in the heaven that your cunt provides. With your ankles locked at the base of his spine, he's forced to bottom out – his thicket of pubic hair brushing against your clit making you twitch and writhe against him.
A strangled whine leaves Bakugo's throat as he comes to terms with his nearing end. He fucks his fist, hips lifting from the cushioned throne seat as he quickens his pace, eyes glued to were your two bodies meet on the bed. It takes barely a handful of strokes, especially when Kirishima's hips begin to move earning a cacophony of moans from both of your throats.
You can't help it. Neither of you can.
Both of your eyes drift to the back of the room, stealing quick glances at the prince. He looks ethereal, lost to his own throws of pleasure with his eyes squeezed shut and his head tipped back. A trickle of moans sneak from his lips despite his breath catching behind his Adam's apple, making goose flesh prickle on both of your arms. It feels wrong, to watch him like this – to see him so vulnerable, throat exposed, cock in his hand and cumming in his own fist, but you swear you've never seen a more beautiful sight.
He cums in waves. His body shaking as he coats his fist, his hand still smoothing the rest of his orgasm from his body. Eventually, his breathing levels out, the faint tingle from his release making him loose and light-headed. His skin prickles. The odd tug of being watched itching at the back of his neck, but when he finally blinks open his eyes there's no-one watching him.
Kirishima groans. He could feel you, your cunt pulsing around him as you watched the prince come undone. It spurs something inside of him, calls on him to please you in the way your body so desperately wanted to be pleased. Spreading his legs a little wider, he forces your hips open allowing him to reach even deeper inside of you and begins to rock his hips.
Something spoilt bubbles in your stomach. Watching the prince has made you hungry, but before you can get carried away feeling jealous of his release Kirishima begins to fuck you. Each of his thrusts gets deeper, his pace quickening until it becomes hard to concentrate. His cock fills you perfectly, making your whole body raw in a way you've never felt before.
It isn't long before Kirishima feels the tell tale pit in his stomach begin to swell. His balls pull up tight, the muscle in his abdomen twitching as he holds onto his composure with his finger tips. Still, he knows exactly what he has to do. Angling his hips down, he ensures his pubic bone brushes yours with each stroke, the thick mess of hair at his stomach tickling over your clit with each stroke.
You moan with each of his thrusts. There's no pain now, no sharp stabbing as his cock presses up inside of you. Instead, there's the dullness of a rising pleasure, one that threatens to tip you over the edge at any moment as you hold on for dear life. With your wrists still bound in his, it's impossible to pull him as closely as you want him, but Kirishima seems to read your mind.
Without pausing his rhythm, Kirishima presses his forehead to yours. Your eyes lock, the wildness in your iris' laid bare for him as his brow scrunches in concentration. He learns more about you in those following few seconds than he has for the week you'd been sequestered together before the selection. It's as if he's attuned to every inch of you, every hitch of your breath, each twitch of your lip and pulse of your cunt.
That's why he sees it coming.
He watches as your eyelids flutter, eyes rolling back towards the ceiling of the bed chamber. Your chest heaves, breath lodged there as a wave of pleasure strong enough to steal your breath rolls through you. Your mouth drops open, lips spit slicked and shining.
And then, then he feels your cunt pulse.
You milk him endlessly. Tightening around him in a vice he's not sure he'll ever want to escape, your pleasure is the most delectable thing he's ever experienced. A groan leaves his throat raw, his biceps shaking as he keep fucking your through your high, prolonging it for as long as possible. There had always been talk of what it was like to make a woman cum, the teachings endless, but none of it had come close to the real thing.
'Not...' Bakugo is breathless. His crown is still lob-sided, his smile lazy and satisfied as he kicks a leg back over the arm of his throne. 'Not inside. Don't come inside of her. That's an order.'
'Yes... Yes, my lord.' With his composure waning, Kirishima waits barely a beat, just until your cunt relaxes, the ghost of a smile tugging at the side of your lip. And then, he pulls out.
You whine, lurching forward as your wrists are released, but you don't get very far before thick strings of pearl are being lashed over your tits. The liquid is warm and coats your skin generously, painting you in his release. Above you, Kirishima fists his cock. His abdomen is tight, his nose scrunched, eyes heavy and half-lidded as he fights to keep looking at you.
And then, just like that, it's over.
The prince allows you a moment of reprieve, a minute or two to bask in the enormity of what has just occurred. The deflowering of a concubine was often a ritualised event and yet, here you were, with the spend of another concubine on your chest having just been taken for the first time. Kirishima's palm curls around your shoulder, steadying you as your world spins. His comfort is welcomed, something you offer him back with a hand on his thigh.
Bakugo clears his throat. 'Go...'
Your head snaps towards him, eyebrows scrunched. There's a shake in your knees still, one you're not sure will support you if the prince chooses to toss you out of his chambers so soon.
Licking his lips, there's a new softness in Bakugo's tone when he speaks again, shifting in his seat as he does. 'Go clean yourselves up. There's a bath through those doors, the servants should have it warm by now. You're welcome to it and whatever you wish to use in there. Sooth your muscles and return to your own quarters. I'll call for you again tomorrow.'
Kirishima glances at you and shrugs. There will be time to talk about the princes strangeness later, for now, you're not about to turn down a chance for a dip in the royal baths. Scrambling to your feet, Kirishima supports you into a messy curtsey before the prince before you slip out of the room and descend upon a world of luxury.
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The door to the baths slams shut behind you, leaving Bakugo alone once again. He shouldn't have let you in there either, people will certainly talk if you're discovered, but the servants are obedient folk and his harsh nature keeps away the other prying eyes efficiently enough.
Springing from his seat, he crosses the room in barely two strides before he's at the bed. He crawls across it, feeling the warmth of your bodies still radiating through the sheets as he goes, imagining what it will feel like to be caught between the scene he witnessed only moments earlier. There's evidence of the act. Dips where you'd been lying, the sheets rumpled and tossed, but the thing that catches his eye is the darkened wet patch clear on the bed.
He doesn't think, he just moves. His chest meets the bed, his tunic falling open to allow rosy nipples to rub against the sheets as his tongue slips from behind his teeth and drags across the wetness. The taste of you bursts across his tongue. A deadly mix of both you and Kirishima ensnares him, causing him to go back for more. He laps at the sheet until his saliva mixes with your essence overpowering your tastes, leaving him wanting.
Collapsing on the bed, Bakugo stares up at the ceiling and listens to the hushed tones and splashes of you in the next room.
Tomorrow. He thinks.
Tomorrow, he'll have you...
Or, at least some of you.
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