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hello! i just wanted to let you know that someone reposted your work on ao3 without permission (chapter 03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/84294646/chapters/222321216). this happened to me as well, so i filed a report with ao3 and left a comment asking the anonymous author to remove my story. thankfully, it has since been taken down.
while looking through the other reposted works, i searched for the original versions and found yours, so i wanted to make sure you were aware of it. i thought you’d want to know in case you’d like to report it as well.
sorry you have to deal with this, and i hope it gets resolved quickly!
the facility smells surprisingly pleasant as caleb walks in. the lady at the front desk greets him with a polite smile before redirecting him to the physical therapist who's supposed to be attending to him in room 6B.
caleb feels tense, rolling his shoulders like a coiled spring. his body's fucking tight, stiff from neglecting stretches and rest days for so long. he's been training ten hours a day minimum to prepare for his next fight. he figures, to make him even more annoyed than he already is, that he'll be paired with some stodgy, balding man who has no time for anything and just wants his day to be over.
instead, he's met with you. wide eyed with creamy soft skin. your hair is pulled back to show off all your delicate facial features, and there's a faint sheen of oil on your hands before you even touch him.
caleb is frozen.
"caleb, right?" you ask, voice clinical.
his pulse spikes. aware of the space between you shrinking as you take a few steps forward, the weight of your gaze lands on him intensely.
"uh… yeah," he manages. he wants to sound confident, but the minute you cock your head towards the massage table, he's like a nervous puppy. he flops down unceremoniously after tugging off his shirt. he's about to tell you where he's tense and what he needs help with, but you're already grabbing onto his shoulders, massaging with firm, deliberate pressure, aaaand he forgets every word he knows.
your hands glide down his back and rub in slow circles, and in response, every muscle tightens and melts at the same time under your touch. he can't stop the hitch in his breath, the tremor in his hands as they grip the edge of the table. "i need to loosen your traps before anything else. you're so wound up here." you murmur, pressing your palms into the tension along his shoulder blades. you watch him shiver and arch his back instinctively, pressing into you needily.
"shit... yeah, gotta relax." he mutters under his breath. caleb swears he's never been this aware of someone touching him before. probably it's because you're so fucking hot, but your magical touch does help too. your hands knead deeper, teasing the tension out of his shoulders. caleb is trying to focus on breathing, but his body reacts faster than his brain; he can't help it.
he's hard. his cock has begun to stiffen in his thin shorts.
you pause and tip your head, pushing your fingers up the curve of his spine, then back to his shoulders. he wants to lean back, and get more so badly. he's in heaven. every inch of him is lit up, every nerve ending alive to your touch. you lean down slightly, pressing into the small of his back with deliberate pressure, and he groans; half surprise, half out of pleasure. "fuck," he mutters, head dropping forward, letting your hands take over completely.
"alright," you say calmly, tapping his shoulder. he's so worked up that he doesn't catch how your eyes scan his face and body with interest. "turn over for me, please." caleb freezes mid-breath, and his chest rises and falls rapidly. "uh… turn over?" he asks, pulse hammering. the simple act of obeying makes him feel exposed in ways he's not used to.
"yes," you say smoothly, not waiting for him to protest as you've already begun to tug him onto his back. "on your back. relax." he hesitates a fraction too long, hips tilting, hands gripping the edge of the table as he slowly pivots. the second he's facing you, he realizes just how vulnerable he is.
your fingers ghost lightly over the top of his hips first. caleb jerks slightly, while his cock, pressed snugly against his broad, short clad thighs, is straining visibly. he knows you can tell he's aroused, but you don't seem to be affected. you've seen it before; a lot of guys react this way during your massages, and you treat it like it's nothing.
"oh," he sighs, trembling. he tries to push back, but your hands are faster, coating the tense muscles of his inner thighs in oil. your thumbs press in, kneading and gliding along sensitive flesh, and his eyes squeeze shut, because the more he looks at you, the more he's inclined to make a mess in his boxers. caleb can't sit still. his hips arch involuntarily, little whimpers escaping him.
"you okay?" you ask softly, but your voice carries an undertone that makes it clear you already know the answer.
"i… y-yeah, uh. no," he stammers, chest rising and falling unevenly. his cock pulses with every glide of your fingers. you lean down slightly, pressing just a little more into his inner thigh, thumbs circling tantalizingly.
you let your fingers trace the contours, teasing the sensitive dips where thigh meets cock, ignoring the obvious leaking and the slick sheen that's forming. you rub up his thighs, thumbs hooking under his balls to rub the sensitive spot underneath. the soft area right above his asshole. caleb whole body shudders, small gasps, whimpers, and shaky groans spilling past his lips.
he keeps trying to pull away slightly, only to squirm back against your hands. caleb's cock throbs with every movement of your fingers, leaking heavier, drooling down his thighs. you glance down, casually noting the mess but not commenting.
every time you glide your fingers along his inner thigh, every accidental brush against his cock, he shivers and gasps like his body is on fire. "caleb…" you chastise softly, letting your fingers linger on the slick skin at the base of his cock. "you're not going to calm down like this." he opens his eyes, looking to see what you mean by that, and his heart races like mad when he sees you tug down the waistband of his shorts, then his boxers, to free his swollen cock.
with one hand, you slowly wrap your fingers around the slick length, thumb pressing down on the sensitive tip. he begins groaning so loud that you have to shove your hand over his mouth with your free hand, also using it to keep him down so he doesn't lift too much. "shh... calm down. i'm just helping you, see? i'm doing my job." you begin milking his cock with your fist, and with each slick slide of your palm up and down, his body gives a slight shudder, hips bucking against your grip. your oil slick hand mixed in with his precum is making a gooey messy of his cock.
"ohhh fuck…" he groans into your palm, "stop…don't stop…pl-please."
you keep your pace, fingers gliding up and down, thumb circling the tip, ignoring the way he's absolutely dripping. when he keeps fucking his hips up into you to get you to stroke him harder, you adjust slightly, letting your hand slide along his cock harder and twisting occasionally, to increase the stimulation tenfold. "so responsive…can't help yourself, can you?"
"no…oh my gosh, right there… i can't…" he moans as his hips press up into your hand, cock pulsing in your grip. every stroke of your fingers sends him spiraling closer to the edge and leaking heavier.
the first tremor runs through him like lightning, hips bucking hard, chest heaving, and a long, shuddering groan escapes him. thick, hot, dripping streams cover your hand, running down his thighs, slicking the table beneath him. his thighs quiver violently and his messy cock pulses in your hand. cum dribbles out of him in masses.
you just keep your hand moving. "there. that's better." you remove your hand from his mouth and join it to wrap around his fat cock as well, jerking him off firmly.
you slide both hands around his cock, twisting and stroking. his body bucks helplessly under you. his chest arches, head thrown back against the padded table as sweat drips along his temple. "oh fuck me-" his voice cracks, breaking into little gasps that sound far too desperate for a big boxer like him.
your thumbs smear his leaking tip, dragging the slick down his shaft as you stroke him faster, both hands working in tandem to palm his cock.
caleb tries to grab your wrist to slow you down, but his fingers barely latch on before his own strength betrays him and he just holds your hands on his dick. you squeeze just under his swollen head and twist up in a slow drag, and the sound that rips out of his throat in response is obscene.
his thighs are spread wide now, knees trembling, and his hips keep canting upward no matter how much he tries to hold them down. you don't even need to encourage him; his body is chasing your hands on their own.
you stroke harder, both fists twisting, pumping him until he's cumming yet again, shooting in thick ropes that splash his stomach, your hands. "mm. see?" you murmur, finally slowing the strokes but not letting go. "all that tension, gone. you just needed someone to work it out of you."
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synopsis. the two of you didn't pay your bills in time, so your landlord cuts the heating to your apartment. how will you and your roommate conserve warmth?
perhaps choosing toji as your roommate was a poor choice.
an understatement, really, but you didn't want to overthink it too much or you'd get mad and take it out on him, and then he'd get upset and leave you in your apartment all alone for a few days because you're mad at him. and you don't like to be alone.
hence, why you chose him, your friend,to live with you. to prevent loneliness.
but there are many stories about people coming to hate their good friends when the relationship had advanced to best friends and roommates, and honestly, you're starting to see why. although, you don't hate toji. no, you could never hate him. not when he's taken such good care of you the decade you'd known each other, getting into scraps for your honor, giving you the clothes off his back, driving miles and miles to come get you from a shitty date just because you felt uncomfortable.
still, the fact remains. he is a nightmare to live with.
you have to clean up after him more times than you'd like to, do his laundry, and more than often, you have to cook him something so he doesn't just end up eating shitty cup-ramen with extraordinary levels of MSG and sodium. and worst of all, he does not cover his share of rent.
"baby just spot me this one last time, alright? i got us covered the next six months. all i gotta do is one more thing for my guy, and it'll all be good." is his most recent excuse. you'd been standing waiting for him at the door while he came home at an ungodly hour, and you're in several layers because somehow, your landlord managed to cut the heating just to your apartment because you two are behind on rent.
he shudders a bit. "that ain't cause of me, right?"
you groan at him and shove at his chest weakly, just to expel your anger somewhere. "of course its because of you, you idiot! we don't have any fucking heating anymore because i didn't have enough to cover both our share of rent this month! now it's just-" you shiver as cold air hits your skin. "-you and me and this cold till you get your guy to pay up."
sympathy floods his features, and he croons, wrapping you up in his big arms while kicking off his shoes and dropping his bag, trying to transfer some of his body heat to you. "it'll be okay, i promise. i got ya, ya hear?" he reassures you while keeping you nice and warm, wasting no time in scooping you up in one burly arm and keeping you against him, nice and warm, while he washes his hands.
he forces you to his side the rest of the evening, all throughout eating dinner and getting changed and washed up before bed. unwillingly, your anger melts away at how cuddly and caretaking he's being, sacrificing some of his mobility and a whole arm to keep you in his orbit where he can warm you up. and it's considerably better than when he hadn't been here to keep you warm, which soothes you.
even though this is all is damn fault to begin with.
he can tell your thoughts are running away with you again and you're starting to get pissed, and he chooses to get into your bed with you tonight, banding his arms around you so you cant run. "i said 'm sorry, didn't i?"
huffing, you try to loosen one of his arms even though you're comfy and he's warm. you're just so pissed off right now and none of this would've happened if he just pulled his fucking weight.
toji grunts and drags you back against him, ensuring there's not the slightest gap between you. he pushes his crotch flush to your ass and squeezes you as close as possible, moving one hand up and under your layers of shirts. "oi. i said 'm fuckin' sorry. i got us for the whole fucking year coming, you got that? just stop runnin' away from me."
"i'll believe it when i fuckin' see it." you grumble back, not swayed by his promises. words are great, yes. reassuring, had it been the first time he used them on you, but it's not. you won't melt into his arms unless he produces some money, or-
his hand moves up to grope one of your soft tits without the barrier of clothing underneath.
squeaking, you jolt backwards, ass bumping against his semi hard cock. "ji! what're you-!"
"shh." he cuts you off, squeezing your tit in his big, meaty palm, his forefinger and thumb coming together to squish a nipple between them. "gettin' you warm so you won't whine anymore."
between whimpers, you manage out, "this isn't what i meant..." but you're cut off when his other hand slips between your legs, warming you there too by cupping your mound.
"that better?" he asks, slowly rubbing both your tit and your pussy while burrowing his hardening dick between your ass cheeks. "or do y'want me to go away so you can be cold again?"
shuddering, you make zero move to push away his touches, your body flush to his. you shake your head slowly, indicating that you don't want him to stop at all. not when his touch just feels so good, his hands feeling large and heavy on your smaller body. but mostly importantly, they're warm.
your agreeance is all that's needed for him to continue whatever it is the two of you are doing. it crosses all boundaries two roommates are intended to have, and yet you can’t find it in you to care. you let out the softest moan of pleasure as he continues squeezing your breast, alternating between the two soft mounds and groaning into your ear at the sheer softness of you. it’s heavenly, how full and womanly you feel in his grip.
his hand keeps rubbing idly back and forth along your pussy, and you start subconsciously grinding against it, rolling your hips back and forth into his palm and fingers while your ass presses snugly to his dick. bumping against him each time you move your body.
“fuck yeah.” he says softly, mouthing at the lobe of your ear and breathing heavily into it, before pressing his lips to the sensitive spot underneath. he traces his tongue along the skin, giving you so much stimulation at once. you don’t know how much longer you can go on without something exploding inside of you. you can just feel how your pussy is starting to ooze juices onto his hand.
your breathing picks up when he goes back to toying with your nipples. toji relishes in the way they stiffen and swell at his touch. he experiments with toying with your folds and reaches up to give your clit some attention too. just like your nipples, it's all swollen. "that from the cold or me playing with you?" he huffs deeply.
and you can't even answer him then, because your body is too busy getting ready for you to cum on his hands. you can't physically hold it in any longer, and with a shuddering moan and a shiver running down your spine, your orgasm comes gushing out of you. it coats his hand and along his fingers in a wave of watery juices, your lips parted in a moan and a cry of his name.
toji couldn't be happier right now.
his cock swells up and pulses against your body during your orgasm, and he holds back the rush of pre-cum leaking out of him when you nudge back on him and grind on his aching boner.
"you wanna?" he whispers. "it'll help warm you up even more."
the suggestion is disguised by him saying this is purely for your benefit, as he doesn't say upfront that he just wants to fuck you, but when you nod, letting out a little, "mhm..."
pleased, toji's face breaks out in a grin. "just hold on a sec," he mumbles, tugging your bottoms out of the way and rubbing your aching folds with the pads of his fingers, trying to get you relaxed and ready for his dick in you. he then tugs his hand out from within your pussy lips and brings two fingers to your mouth, tapping your lower lip.
you already know what he means, and he moans as your warm, wet mouth encloses his fingers while you suck your juices off them, tasting yourself while getting his digits nice and lubed up for what he's about to do. he slips them out of your mouth with a slimy pop and slips them into your hole then, pumping the thick digits inside of you.
the stretch is immediate. not entirely unpleasant, but his fingers are thick- for a moment, you squirm with them inside you, but he shushes you softly once more, easing them in and out of you and letting you slowly adapt to the sudden fullness.
only three solid pumps has you completely relaxed with them inside you, and he keeps fondling your breasts while twisting and curling his fingers against your soft, pudgy walls. he can just feel how your body loosens up at his touch and your breathing evens out, and once you stop quivering whenever his fingers prod deep inside you, he decides you're ready for his cock.
he slips his fingers out of you and lines his cockhead up with your hole, rolling his hips forward - then drawing them back to sink just the tip in each time. it's a calculated move to make you more needy and desperate. "toji please," you pant, rubbing the cleft of your ass back against him in hopes that he'll just put it in already, but he's insistent on teasing you. he fists his cock and nuzzles the tip further into you while squeezing the shaft, peeling back the foreskin wrapping the head of his cock so that the pre-cum leaking out of his cock can spill into you and stick to your squishy walls, getting you nice and ready for him.
"in a minute, woman. don't wanna break you." he mutters, guiding his cock in and out of you and squeezing the base of his cock to push out even more slick, getting your pussy nice and messy for him. he moans as your cum and his pre mix together, making your folds glisten and shine pretty in the low light. he can't help himself, needing to fuck your pretty pussy like he should've the day he moved in with you.
you feel him probe into your pussy once more, though this time, he finally pushes in more than just the tip. you're warmer inside the deeper he goes, and it has him dizzy with lust. he sucks on the skin of your throat while squeezing your breasts and nuzzling firmer against you.
"it's so big, ji..." you whine, eyes rolling back when he pushes in halfway, stilling inside you to let you adjust to the stretch. "feels like you're in my tummy."
the burn wasn't terrible, but it was obvious you've never had anyone as big as toji inside you. " 's okay baby," he grunts. "we can go slow this time. gonna take good care of my girl." as he pushes in deeper, his cockhead prods against the frontal wall inside your pussy, rubbing against it and seeking for the spot that makes you - ah. right there.
"mngh! toji!" you squeal, bucking your hips to try and relieve yourself from the pressure of his cock on your weak spot, but he makes no move to pull back. in fact, he sheathes his cock fully inside you, stuffing you to the hilt in one mean thrust.
your puffy walls constrict around him immediately, and because it just feels so good, velvety soft and hot insides massaging his cock, he wraps his arms around you and begins to fuck you back onto his cock while driving his hips upwards to meet you halfway, splitting you open around him and thrusting perfectly into your soft cunt. toji feels what a tight fit it is, his fat cock smushing your gooey walls and taking up all the space inside you.
he bottoms out with each thrust, not giving a single crevice of your insides mercy whenever he thrusts into you. he insists on every bit of you getting filled, and his hips roll upwards when he hilts in you to make out with your cervix, giving you some stimulation to the deepest part of your channel - your womb.
then he pulls back, hands still mashing your breasts with his palm because he just can't get enough of how fucking soft and pudgy you are. made for his big hands to grope and squish. you have his dream body in a woman, he thinks. he moans and licks up your neck, taking an inhale of that delicious shampoo you use, before tipping your head back so he can kiss you sloppy and gross while his cock pounds your swollen cunt.
you've started to chase his thrusts now, not needing him to pull you back to meet them anymore, because you're practically throwing your ass back on his dick, your pussy swallowing up his cock. and every plunge of his cock inside you has the creamy micture of your arousal and his own leaking pre-cum, mixing it together into a white lather that coats your folds and around his cock.
but each wet thrust of his cock inside you displaces the pools of moisture gathered between you and toji, making a mess on the bed below you, though neither of you care because you're focused on fucking and rolling your tongues together in a heated kiss.
toji pulls his mouth off yours with a wet pop, placing a kiss to your jaw and cheek while letting his feelings out to bare. "wanted fuck- t'get my hands on you f'months now, baby." he groans, his heavy, swollen balls slapping against your clit with a fleshy, rhythmic thwack. "wanted ya in my bed, kissin' me, fuckin' me to sleep instead of trying to hear your breaths down the hall with you sleepin' in your own room."
you brush your mouth against his, chest heaving with every breath as he reveals his feelings to you. that he wanted to share a room with you from the start, that he's always wanted to be close to you. "could've ngh, right there! just asked me..."
with a smirk, toji purposefully drags his shaft slow and torturous against your walls, feeling your pussy cling to him the longer he takes to draw back, and instead of pulling back all the way, he stuffs his cock back inside you, grunting low while mouthing your cheek. "yeah? you gonna let me touch you whenever i want?"
you pout and try to turn your face away so he doesn't leave a hickey on your face, and he moves to capture your lips in another kiss, murmuring, "hm?" against you.
you nod, granting him that silent permission, and his thrusts instantly speed up with the excitement of the new relationship about to bloom between the two of you.
the bed groans under the force of his hips, and he's already feeling that he's starting to cum as a load splurts out of him, adding to the pre-existing mess. "good. cause 'm not gonna get my fill of this pussy, or you, in just one night." your body reacts in time with his as his balls slap lewdly into your flesh, as more of your juices squeeze out of you and froth around the base of his cock, spilling along his body.
his noises are almost as loud as yours now, what with how hes moaning into your mouth and swirling his tongue around yours while his cock leaks out cream in your messy pussy. the coldness from earlier is nowhere to be found, as the room is just humid from the steamy sex the two of you are having.
he can feel that final bout of cum about to hit, the veins lining his cock bulging and pressing into your walls. he lets out one last low growl, his fingers digging into the fat of your hips. you wrap your pussy snugly around his cock for him to empty his load right into you.
but he won't cum without you. he wouldn't want to leave his girl out.
he slides his hand down to rub at the hypersensitive, swollen nub seated pretty on your cunt and rubs it in gentle, coaxing circles, eager to push you over the edge alongside him. "toji! i'm gonna cum, please just... oh fuuuck-"
he presses down, grinding two fingers against the peak with a pressure that makes your hips buck against him. and just like that, you're creaming again, but this time around his cock. the inner walls of your pussy begin to twitch, involuntary spasms that grip his shaft with a desperate, milking force. toji doesn't slow down. he increases the pressure, his fingers rubbing your clit while your pussy gushes cum.
with one last thrust, toji stuffs his cock inside you, his whole body locking up. thick, hot ropes of cum pump deep into you, clinging to your walls while the excess shoots right into your womb, flooding it with his heavy seed. he clutches you all throughout his orgasm, body shuddering against yours as he thrusts shallowly into you, keeping you plugged full while soothing you with warm cuddles.
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synopsis. dad! simon riley looks at his daughters drawings they made him for fathers day.
the four of you - the twins, you and simon are sitting in the living room together while the girls unpack their bags to take out the surprise they made him for father's day.
"daddy! look what we made for you!"
simon's eyes brighten in anticipation for his gifts. he loves being appreciated by his girls, whether they show it by using his tattoos as a coloring book, inviting him to their super secret tea parties, or now, drawing him.
the first twin hands him her paper and reveals a crayon-drawn version of him that is...about eight feet tall. he's been drawn with wild, jagged strokes that make him look like some kind of contorted action figure, but she is beaming ear to ear, looking very proud of herself. "y'like it?" she chirps.
simon presses his lips together tightly so he doesn't laugh. a snort does leave him unintentionally, but he catches it on time and covers it with a cough. he's trying so hard to be serious, but it's hard when the kid drew his neck twice the size of his torso and has his arms reaching down to his feet. goodness gracious.
"y'really went all ou' on that height, bug." he says, keeping his voice low and calm, as if he's inspecting enemy intel on a mission. he nods, studying the drawing intently. "very good. drew my proportions-" he pauses, really really holding in another chuckle. "-very accurate."
she beams. your other twin crawls her way up onto your lap so she can see better, wanting her turn now. you can sense her impatience by the way she's bouncing on you.
the first twin giggles, pointing at the paper. "yep! i made your arms huge so you can pick me and sissy and mama up! and your legs are strong for running!"
he nods again, trying to keep the corners of his mouth down. why did my own daughter make me look like a giant mutant?
the twin on your lap pushes her way forward, tired of waiting, and his eyes drift over to hers. here, simon's body is shaped as a giant blob in which she tried to draw him at least 900 pounds of pure "muscle". she seems to have forgotten to draw his neck and shoulders as well. simon blinks at it, straightens his back as if holding military posture, because he cannot, cannot, laugh.
she's now laying with her legs in your lap and her torso on his with wide, innocent eyes, expecting admiration too. "look! mine's better than sissy's, see? she made you reaaaaallly tall, but i made you reeeeeeeally big! it's better cause you're big like this in real life too! you can pick me and sis and mama up all together in one go!"
"mhm, 'm quite big." he mutters seriously. "i love 'ow y'captured my muscular physique, love. looks jus' like me."
she giggles and pushes the drawing right up in his face while the first twin comes to join her sister on top of both you and simon. "i drew extra muscles so you could fight bad guys!"
he presses the back of his hand to his mouth, taking another deep breath. he's restraining himself from hurting his babies' feelings, which is difficult as he looks between his two portraits; the one where he's shaped like a marshmallow and the other where he looks like a character from a horror movie. "mhm… very nice."
he gives them both hugs and kisses atop their fluffy hair, repeating his thanks to them. he's holding them close but still pretending nothing is funny. " 've nev'r seen a better recon of Daddy in m'life. well done girls."
the twins are absolutely delighted by his reaction and oblivious to his amusement. now he has to somehow keep a straight face all day while he walks around in a house filled with giant, muscle-bound, slightly terrifying drawings of himself.
when you come in to watch your husband put up the pictures in his study to ensure guests don't see - johnny, kyle and john wouldn't let him hear the end of it if they walked in on the drawings up on the fridge - simon turns to you, "we need to put those two in art classes as soon as possible."
the facility smells surprisingly pleasant as caleb walks in. the lady at the front desk greets him with a polite smile before redirecting him to the physical therapist who's supposed to be attending to him in room 6B.
caleb feels tense, rolling his shoulders like a coiled spring. his body's fucking tight, stiff from neglecting stretches and rest days for so long. he's been training ten hours a day minimum to prepare for his next fight. he figures, to make him even more annoyed than he already is, that he'll be paired with some stodgy, balding man who has no time for anything and just wants his day to be over.
instead, he's met with you. wide eyed with creamy soft skin. your hair is pulled back to show off all your delicate facial features, and there's a faint sheen of oil on your hands before you even touch him.
caleb is frozen.
"caleb, right?" you ask, voice clinical.
his pulse spikes. aware of the space between you shrinking as you take a few steps forward, the weight of your gaze lands on him intensely.
"uh… yeah," he manages. he wants to sound confident, but the minute you cock your head towards the massage table, he's like a nervous puppy. he flops down unceremoniously after tugging off his shirt. he's about to tell you where he's tense and what he needs help with, but you're already grabbing onto his shoulders, massaging with firm, deliberate pressure, aaaand he forgets every word he knows.
your hands glide down his back and rub in slow circles, and in response, every muscle tightens and melts at the same time under your touch. he can't stop the hitch in his breath, the tremor in his hands as they grip the edge of the table. "i need to loosen your traps before anything else. you're so wound up here." you murmur, pressing your palms into the tension along his shoulder blades. you watch him shiver and arch his back instinctively, pressing into you needily.
"shit... yeah, gotta relax." he mutters under his breath. caleb swears he's never been this aware of someone touching him before. probably it's because you're so fucking hot, but your magical touch does help too. your hands knead deeper, teasing the tension out of his shoulders. caleb is trying to focus on breathing, but his body reacts faster than his brain; he can't help it.
he's hard. his cock has begun to stiffen in his thin shorts.
you pause and tip your head, pushing your fingers up the curve of his spine, then back to his shoulders. he wants to lean back, and get more so badly. he's in heaven. every inch of him is lit up, every nerve ending alive to your touch. you lean down slightly, pressing into the small of his back with deliberate pressure, and he groans; half surprise, half out of pleasure. "fuck," he mutters, head dropping forward, letting your hands take over completely.
"alright," you say calmly, tapping his shoulder. he's so worked up that he doesn't catch how your eyes scan his face and body with interest. "turn over for me, please." caleb freezes mid-breath, and his chest rises and falls rapidly. "uh… turn over?" he asks, pulse hammering. the simple act of obeying makes him feel exposed in ways he's not used to.
"yes," you say smoothly, not waiting for him to protest as you've already begun to tug him onto his back. "on your back. relax." he hesitates a fraction too long, hips tilting, hands gripping the edge of the table as he slowly pivots. the second he's facing you, he realizes just how vulnerable he is.
your fingers ghost lightly over the top of his hips first. caleb jerks slightly, while his cock, pressed snugly against his broad, short clad thighs, is straining visibly. he knows you can tell he's aroused, but you don't seem to be affected. you've seen it before; a lot of guys react this way during your massages, and you treat it like it's nothing.
"oh," he sighs, trembling. he tries to push back, but your hands are faster, coating the tense muscles of his inner thighs in oil. your thumbs press in, kneading and gliding along sensitive flesh, and his eyes squeeze shut, because the more he looks at you, the more he's inclined to make a mess in his boxers. caleb can't sit still. his hips arch involuntarily, little whimpers escaping him.
"you okay?" you ask softly, but your voice carries an undertone that makes it clear you already know the answer.
"i… y-yeah, uh. no," he stammers, chest rising and falling unevenly. his cock pulses with every glide of your fingers. you lean down slightly, pressing just a little more into his inner thigh, thumbs circling tantalizingly.
you let your fingers trace the contours, teasing the sensitive dips where thigh meets cock, ignoring the obvious leaking and the slick sheen that's forming. you rub up his thighs, thumbs hooking under his balls to rub the sensitive spot underneath. the soft area right above his asshole. caleb whole body shudders, small gasps, whimpers, and shaky groans spilling past his lips.
he keeps trying to pull away slightly, only to squirm back against your hands. caleb's cock throbs with every movement of your fingers, leaking heavier, drooling down his thighs. you glance down, casually noting the mess but not commenting.
every time you glide your fingers along his inner thigh, every accidental brush against his cock, he shivers and gasps like his body is on fire. "caleb…" you chastise softly, letting your fingers linger on the slick skin at the base of his cock. "you're not going to calm down like this." he opens his eyes, looking to see what you mean by that, and his heart races like mad when he sees you tug down the waistband of his shorts, then his boxers, to free his swollen cock.
with one hand, you slowly wrap your fingers around the slick length, thumb pressing down on the sensitive tip. he begins groaning so loud that you have to shove your hand over his mouth with your free hand, also using it to keep him down so he doesn't lift too much. "shh... calm down. i'm just helping you, see? i'm doing my job." you begin milking his cock with your fist, and with each slick slide of your palm up and down, his body gives a slight shudder, hips bucking against your grip. your oil slick hand mixed in with his precum is making a gooey messy of his cock.
"ohhh fuck…" he groans into your palm, "stop…don't stop…pl-please."
you keep your pace, fingers gliding up and down, thumb circling the tip, ignoring the way he's absolutely dripping. when he keeps fucking his hips up into you to get you to stroke him harder, you adjust slightly, letting your hand slide along his cock harder and twisting occasionally, to increase the stimulation tenfold. "so responsive…can't help yourself, can you?"
"no…oh my gosh, right there… i can't…" he moans as his hips press up into your hand, cock pulsing in your grip. every stroke of your fingers sends him spiraling closer to the edge and leaking heavier.
the first tremor runs through him like lightning, hips bucking hard, chest heaving, and a long, shuddering groan escapes him. thick, hot, dripping streams cover your hand, running down his thighs, slicking the table beneath him. his thighs quiver violently and his messy cock pulses in your hand. cum dribbles out of him in masses.
you just keep your hand moving. "there. that's better." you remove your hand from his mouth and join it to wrap around his fat cock as well, jerking him off firmly.
you slide both hands around his cock, twisting and stroking. his body bucks helplessly under you. his chest arches, head thrown back against the padded table as sweat drips along his temple. "oh fuck me-" his voice cracks, breaking into little gasps that sound far too desperate for a big boxer like him.
your thumbs smear his leaking tip, dragging the slick down his shaft as you stroke him faster, both hands working in tandem to palm his cock.
caleb tries to grab your wrist to slow you down, but his fingers barely latch on before his own strength betrays him and he just holds your hands on his dick. you squeeze just under his swollen head and twist up in a slow drag, and the sound that rips out of his throat in response is obscene.
his thighs are spread wide now, knees trembling, and his hips keep canting upward no matter how much he tries to hold them down. you don't even need to encourage him; his body is chasing your hands on their own.
you stroke harder, both fists twisting, pumping him until he's cumming yet again, shooting in thick ropes that splash his stomach, your hands. "mm. see?" you murmur, finally slowing the strokes but not letting go. "all that tension, gone. you just needed someone to work it out of you."
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cw. princess! reader, prince! aerion, separate kingdoms, no targcest or familial relations involved, cheating (reader cheats on her betrothed), unprotected sex, rough sex, power play, semi-public sex, creampie.
synopsis. aerion admires you. respects you as a leader, an influence on your people, and as a woman. he never thought he'd meet his match, and he wishes to explore you further.
the long council table was meant to impress.
carved black oak, polished so beautifully that candlelight shimmered across its surface. banners hang from the high stone walls, each one bearing the sigils of the great houses gathered there. politics.
aerion hated politics.
although, that wasn't entirely true. aerion simply loathed most people involved in them. the stammering lords, nobles who bowed too low and replied in haste to gain his approval even if nothing but nonsense left their mouths, courtiers who pretended their trembling was respect instead of fear.
but you were different. aerion did not loathe you at all.
across the table, you sat straight-backed in your chair, a crown of silver filigree resting lightly against your hair. it was your turn to speak, your voice coming out calm and measured as you address the matter of trade tariffs between your kingdom and the crown of house targaryen.
aerion leans back slightly, one arm slung across the carved armrest of his chair, with his boots stretched forward beneath the table. he looks bored, but that is only because he is a master at keeping a neutral expression at all times. in truth, he is staring right at you, imagining doing the most vile of acts to you right here in this room.
he finds you absolutely captivating. you speak like someone who had been born for this; sharp, composed, impossible to interrupt. a lord halfway down the table attempts to interject and you cut him off with nothing more than a polite turn of your head and a single raised brow.
you're so beautiful and charming that it is impossible to tell that you are more similar to aerion than anyone else in this room, ruthless, blood thirsty, and hungry for power. it excites him, how you meet his gaze like an equal.
a prince and a princess. both still beneath the crown but above nearly everyone else at the table. which means that most of these negotiations eventually came down to the two of you speaking while the others hovered around the edges like nervous attendants.
you continue your speech, now discussing shipping routes around the table and gesturing to the map spread out in front of you. he hears none of it, eyes trailing down your figure and stopping at your fingers brushing the parchment as you traced the coastline.
he imagines grabbing your soft hand and pulling you across the table, right onto his lap. or, perhaps bending you over in front of everyone and finally having a taste of you.
Gods.
aerion shifts slightly in his chair.
as you continue speaking, unaware (or perhaps pretending to be) of his eyes burning into you, aerion wonders if you had any idea what you did to him. how badly he wanted to ruin that calm composure of yours.
he imagines leaning close enough that the nobles around the table could no longer hear the filth he wished to whisper in your ear. imagines the slight hitch in your breath when his hand slid-
“aerion.”
your voice cuts cleanly through his thoughts, and he lifts his head and blinks up at you languidly. the room has gone quiet, every lord at the table now staring at him.
“…your thoughts?” you prompt with a little tip of your head, watching him fold his hands together and lean forward slightly. inside, he was still picturing you with your back against the council table while those same lords politely try to pretend they noticed nothing.
“your proposal,” he says smoothly, “is… quite impressive.” a few nobles exchanged surprised glances at his words, for aerion never gave compliments. but his gaze doesn't wave from you. you don't look surprised. if anything, your mouth curved faintly, as though you had expected exactly that answer. and that small smile did something very dangerous to him.
but aerion could not have you. because you were betrothed.
the thought hit him every single time he imagined putting his hands on you. you were to see some foreign prince who your family had formed a carefully arranged alliance with. this man had never sat across a table from you and watched you dismantle an argument piece by piece. he doesn’t know of your sharp tongue or wit like aerion does. he doubts the sod could even handle you.
aerion’s jaw clenches and he curls his fingers slightly against the wood of the table. the idea of another man touching you…
he exhales a slow breath through his nose. across from him, you continue speaking with the other nobles, as you’d accepted aerion’s praise and moved forward right after. he scoffs at your nonchalance. the things he would do to you would make half the court faint.
meanwhile, you've just finished speaking and lean back slightly in your chair, allowing the discussion to continue around the table. you look over at aerion, who makes no move to avert his gaze from you. he simply watches you through lowered lashes, thinking about how easily he could close the distance between you.
and how badly he wanted to see what the princess looked like when she finally lost control.
eventually, you close the council meeting, bringing attention to the late hour and suggesting to reconvene tomorrow. the council chamber slowly empties in a shuffle of robes, clinking goblets, and murmured arguments that would no doubt continue long after the doors closed.
you're already halfway down the corridor when you heard aerion's unmistakable steps behind you, heavy and confident. you speak without turning around.
"i was wondering," you say lightly, still walking, but slowing your pace for him slightly. "how long it would take the prince to abandon the rest of his court."
a low voice answers behind you. "i did not abandon them, princess. i am simply more interested in you."
you finally glance over your shoulder as aerion falls into step beside you. his pale hair gleams in the torchlight of the corridor, silver - almost white against the dark stone walls. his expression is the same arrogant calm he had worn at the table, but his eyes, those sharp violet eyes, are still fixed on you in a way that felt almost leering. but the crown prince would never leer, especially not at another royal. "i escaped," he jokes, looking down at you.
you snort softly and continue walking.
"that poor merchant lord from the western ports will be heartbroken," you tut. "he seemed convinced you cared deeply about his grain tariffs."
aerion scoffs, "if i had to hear one more word about grain tariffs, i would have set the entire port on fire and spared myself the discussion."
you laugh at his audacity, feeling quite amused by the fact he seems to trust you enough to share his true feelings with you. part of you wonders why he is so comfortable with you, enough to tell jokes and walk so close to you that your arms keep brushing, but you figure it is best to not make any assumptions. aerion is just confusing.
meanwhile, he's trying to contain himself because your laugh had ignited something disgustingly warm and pleasant inside him. his stomach seemed to flip upside down when you did it. he watches you as you both walk down the long castle hallway. servants bow as you pass, but neither of you slow for them.
you wave one away absentmindedly when they try to ask something about dinner arrangements. aerion notices. there it was again, your unwillingness to pretend to give a damn about something if it does not interest you. you are so blatantly honest that aerion cannot help but trust you. you do not lie or sugarcoat.
"you are terrible to your staff," he says casually.
you glance sideways at him. "i am not. they just do not recognize when i am not in the mood to talk with them. some of them have been with me years and still do not know my daily routines. it is their fault i get short with them. and they are still paid handsomely. i do not feel sorry at all."
there, more honesty. aerion grins. that is exactly the kind of answer he would have given. "no?" he's thoroughly amused, and continues speaking, wanting to hear more of your thoughts. "you dismissed lord harren rather brutally today. i thought he might cry."
"he was wrong," you reply simply.
"and that justified humiliating him in front of the council?"
you look at him incredulously, figuring the answer would be obvious. "yes."
with a grin, aerion pictures the moment from the meeting - how you'd calmly dismantled the man's argument piece by piece while he sputtered and tried to recover. you hadn't even raised your voice, just watched him crumble. aerion had admired it immensely.
you round a corner, leading him deeper into the quiet wing of the castle where guest chambers were kept for visiting nobility. "your proposal about the eastern shipping lanes," aerion says suddenly. "you were holding something back."
"you believe so, prince aerion?" you ask, lips curving slightly. "that i was leaving points out of the discussion?"
aerion felt a thrill rush through his body. he loves this part, the unspoken game between the two of you where you circle each other without ever quite touching. you provoke each other to see who will yield first to temptation.
you stop walking for a moment beside a tall window where moonlight spilled across the stone floor. “the tariffs were bait,” you admit, making no move to back away or avoid being cornered when aerion walks a little closer, enclosing you in the little private alcove under the high window.
“i assumed.”
“the real issue is naval positioning,” you continue. “if your father agrees to the arrangement, your fleets will control the southern trade routes within a year.”
aerion’s eyes flicker with interest. “and you’re giving us that advantage why?”
“because your fleets already control them in practice. i'm simply giving you the direction to dominate.”
the two of you stared at each other for a moment. it wasn’t the first time Aerion had felt it, that strange sense that when he spoke to you, he wasn’t speaking to a rival court. he was speaking to someone who thought the same way he did. calculating. completely unimpressed by the opinions of lesser men and women.
“you are wasted here,” aerion shakes his head. "you should be ruling a kingdom. plundering others." your betrothal surfaced in his mind again briefly, turning his expression sour. that distant crown waiting for you where you will have to sit back and shut up the rest of your life, letting that man do all the talking and plundering for you, when aerion, if he had your hand, would have you rule hand in hand as equals.
"shall we move along to your chambers, prince aerion?"
he shakes his head and backs you in further so you're forced to sit back on the ledge, and he keeps you in with strong arms, putting his face close to yours. you are strong and have resisted many men's attempts at seducing you, but aerion is... different. extremely so. his gaze fixed on yours, his clean, woodsy scent making you woozy. "i do not want to go to bed, princess." he murmurs.
the torchlight from the corridor flickers across the sharp angles of his face. his expression had shifted. though still arrogant and amused, there's a certain predatory look on his face that you hadn't noticed before. "i think you're dismissing me rather quickly."
your eyes flit around his face quickly, your breath held in your lungs as you feel the gap between the two of you get smaller and smaller. he's making you nervous. so nervous that your body is quivering and restless, and your face, neck and ears are burning heat. "i... i showed you the route to your chamber. that was the purpose of the walk."
"was it?" his tone is light and curious as though he already knew the answer. he just wants to see if you will be honest and agree with him or lie and say you're still thinking about that pathetic man you're set to marry. he knows you are not naive, though. you must be aware of the tension humming in the air between you. perhaps you are just too... thoughtful of that man's feelings to indulge in it though.
“one might think,” he speaks slowly, “that after such a riveting council meeting, two like-minded rulers might wish to… continue their discussion.”
“continue our discussion,” you repeat.
“of course.” he says smoothly, leaning a little closer and forcing your body back into the nook, your tits pushed against his chest and your crown now askew in your hair. his breathing has gotten heavier and more erratic, but he still hasn't put his hands on you, not really. but he can tell you're as caught up in this as he is.
“isn't this rather unbecoming of a prince and princess, aerion?” you ask, gaze dropping to his wet pink lips. he licks them unconsciously and leans down further, nearly brushing his mouth against yours. but he's waiting for an explicit sign that you want this as much as he does. that you do not care for your husband to be. that you want aerion to defile you in the halls of your castle where anyone could walk by at any moment.
you pant into his mouth, your lips brushing against his without pressure involved. just getting a taste of what could be.
“my betrothed,” you add breathily, “would not be pleased to hear i've been in such close proximity to you.”
"your betrothed is not here." he says immediately, hand snaking behind your head and grabbing at your hair almost brutishly, tipping your head up so your mouths are angled perfectly against each other, but you're still not actually kissing.
you gasp and fist your hands in the back of his robes to steady yourself, eyes fluttering shut. aerion's scent fills up every inch of space in your senses again, and you try to deepen the almost-kiss, just for him to back away slightly and tut at you mockingly. "oh princess." he croons. "weren't you taught to say please?"
for a moment, you can't seem to steady yourself as he runs his hands along your body, mouth moving lethargically against yours. the confidence you wield so easily in court feels… distant here. irrelevant. "i-" you start, your voice catching in your throat embarrassingly. aerion exhales, letting out an airy groan past your lips. "go on..." he prompts. he has all the time in the world to pull this from you. "tell me what you want."
you let out a shaky inhale as your resolve, so unshakable before, slips away. your voice is hardly audible when you admit it; “…you.”
aerion stills momentarily, only long enough for the answer to settle, before he grins slowly. “there it is,” he murmurs.
his hand tightens slightly at the back of your head to hold you there as he finally closes the distance, sealing his mouth fully against yours and pushing you back with his weight as he dominates the kiss. he swallows your sounds with his tongue, using the first opportunity he can to slip it into your mouth and lave it over yours.
you paw at him in return, fingers fisting in the fabric of his robes, pulling him closer until there's no space left between the two of you at all. he groans at your insistence and lowers his hands to your front, undoing the laces lining the top of your gown rapidly.
without removing his mouth from yours, he pushes his hands against your newly bare skin, hands finding the soft mounds of your breasts and moaning at how round and pert they feel in his cool palms. how quickly your nipples bud and swell under his touch, sensitive to the pads of his thumbs and his pinching fingers. you buck into his touch, not unhappy with his emboldened behavior.
it's overwhelming in the best way. his tongue swirling around yours, his lips pushed and molded perfectly against the seam of your mouth, and his big, cool hands on your warm chest has your thoughts slipping, your composure unraveling piece by piece as the tension that’s been building finally has somewhere to go.
aerion seems so impatient in the way he handles you. letting his lips slip off yours with saliva strings webbing between both your swollen mouths, he slowly moves his kisses down to your jaw. his teeth bite into your skin, cutting into the soft flesh before he allows you the soothing press of his tongue. hes merciful enough to soothe the marks hes been leaving on you.
your hands fist in his clothes as he mouths and fondles your body. at the moment, you feel no shame about being soiled before marriage. you're not even promised to aerion. and yet the betrayal your betrothed would feel if he found you and the crown prince touching and mouthing at each other like rabid animals does not make you hesitate.
aerion pushes his body between your legs, letting you feel the hard length of his cock through his clothes. one hand descends to lift your hips so he can press his cock against you right through your wet underwear. you gasp and moan at all the sensations at once. his cock, tongue, and hands on you. "more," you say pleadingly, pushing him up against you and reaching down to palm at his long, thick cock. it's bigger than you anticipated. heavy in your palm as he pushes his hips instinctively into your hand.
"you learn quick, princess." he praises, groaning at your fist wrapping around his clothed cock. “you want it? show me how much.”
obediently, you lean back and hike your dress up, pulling your underwear to the side to reveal your glistening pussy to his hungry gaze. you even go so far as to spread yourself with two fingers, letting him see the pearlescent strings of arousal clinging to your pussy lips.
his pupils dilate the moment he sees how wet and ready for him you are, slick oozing out of you in thick rivulets. the control he'd initially had in the council room snaps completely, and he removes his breeches and bottoms and fists his hard, pale cock, lining it up with your hole.
you gasp as he rubs his red, swollen tip along your folds, the friction coaxing pitiful whines past your lips as your juices and his thick pre-cum smear together, making a mess of you.
the head of his cock parts your folds agonizingly slow as he starts to slip inside you, his hand letting go of the base of his cock to let your pussy do the work in gripping him and sucking him in deeper. "so tight," he grunts, leaning forward to push more of himself inside you. "i'd expect nothing less from you, princess. look at how well you take me."
his cock stretches you out further and further, the sensation of being full taking over the closer he gets to bottoming out. you can't take your eyes off his as his cock sinks in, and finally, with one slick pop, his balls hit the curve of your ass while he rests snugly inside you.
taking a minute to let your soft walls adjust to his size, he rests inside you, focused on the way his balls twitch against your ass and how his cock has fully disappeared into your hole, milking him with a vise grip. he groans, hands sliding down your soft, supple body worshippingly.
then, unable to withold his need to fuck you proper, he draws back and slams back into you, his cock dragging forwards into your puffy walls and mixing in all your slick. your lips draw together in a pout as you whimper out his name, peering down at where his cock is stuffing your pussy and thrusting in and out. you look down and spread your pussy lips, your eyes drawn to the motion of your walls clinging to his cock and sucking him back in with every rut of his thick cock.
you're dizzy with pleasure, and all aerion does is chuckle at the fucked out expression on your sweaty, flushed face. "hungry little pussy," he comments mockingly, smirking at the squelching noises your hole makes. "can barely hear your noises over hers."
though he really would like to play calm and collected with you, it's difficult for him to maintain subtlety with how soft and warm you are around his pulsing shaft. you suck him back in and milk his cock when he tries to draw back, and it makes it so hard for him to keep pounding your cunt silly when all you want to do is keep him stuffing you full.
that, the way you spread your hole for him to fuck proper, and the borderline vulgar expression on your face, how you keep looking up to gauge how he feels as if seeking his approval, it all has him going stupid inside of you. he grabs you by the hips and drags you up on his cock so you're no longer seated, but pressed flat up against the wall with your legs on his shoulders so he can fuck you deeper.
he bounces you on his cock like a toy, groping the fat of your thighs and ass while hissing at how you tighten down around him and dig your nails into his shoulders. with the new position, it doesn't take long for aerion to reach that one weak spot you've never known about until now. the swollen head of his cock prods against it again and again while his balls squish against your ass.
"aerion!" you cry out, your moans increasing in pitch and volume until he rapidly shushes you.
"fuck, keep the noise down." he curses, holding you against him and deepening his thrusts into you. you feel him reach impossibly deeper with every drive of your hips, and it's hard for you to listen and obey when he keeps fucking your cunt like this. you can feel your orgasm fast approaching with the incessant stimulation to your weak spot and the fabric of his robes rubbing against your puffy clit. "else we'll get caught and everyone'll know what the sweet princess gets up to at night."
your mouth opens in a dramatic, gasped moan at his threat, and he quickly silences you with yet another deep kiss.
he wonders if you kiss your bethrothed like this.
the thought makes him plunge his tongue into your mouth greedily, staking his claim on you while all you can do is run your tongue against his while his cock busies itself with filling your softening walls that hold onto him tight. he feels his load churning in his balls and his stomach twisting up with each lewd run of your tongue on his and his cock pumping your pussy, and he shudders, squeezing you tighter against him when your hands fist in his hair, silently coaxing him to cum.
hungrily, aerion licks your lips upon envisioning himself pumping you full of his cum and sending you back to your chambers full of him, watching his hot load trickle down your little legs as you walk into your bedroom. the last encouragement he needs before he cums is your soft voice against his lips, crooning; "i need it, aerion, f-fill me please."
he groans and hugs you tighter, continuing his deep, resounding thrusts while starting to spill into you, breeding your pussy without another thought. he swirls his hips against yours and grinds into you to fuck his cum as deep as it can go, moaning and splurting out more sticky cream when you arch your back and moan, walls fluttering around him as you also hit your peak and make a mess of his cock. nothing's in your head but him and the pleasure he's giving you. not tarrifs, or your husband to be.
"enough, you. i am trying to watch this." sukuna hisses, pushing your socked feet away from his face for the umpteenth time. you keep rubbing the fuzzy fabric against him because it makes him shudder. you never thought he, your hulking, strong, worryingly resistant-to-pain boyfriend would be all sensitive and ticklish to some fuzz, and yet here you are.
"why? it's cute, kuna. im just showing you somethin'." goadingly, you nudge the clean fabric under his chin, hoping to rile him up further, and he grabs your ankle and drags you forward, snarling at you and grabbing both of your feet, holding them in place against his lap.
oh.
oh.
he must underestimate you.
slowly, you rub the soles of your covered feet back and forth against his crotch, feeling the bulge twitch and throb at the attention inflicted on it. now, sukuna's trying to save face, staring stubbornly at the tv and pretending his dick's not overreacting to some faint touches.
you laugh. "you're so sensitive. think you can cum just from this?"
"i haven't the faintest idea what you're referring to."
you laugh and turn your feet so that your soles are placed together with his chubbed bulges in between. you rub up and down and side to side slowly, rolling his dicks and pressing them together in the thin sweatpants he's wearing tonight. hideous thing, he thinks. he only wore it because you bought it for him after he'd been wearing robes around your home.
wanting him to have more casual, comfortable clothing, you bought him a couple pieces of loungewear - mostly in gray - and gave it to him, reassuring him tht nobody's meant to see him in it but you.
and here you are, taking advantage of his love for you and willingness to wear the thin fabric that makes the print of his dick visible through it, an easy way for you to watch his cocks grow and react whenever your feet rub on them just right.
with how hard he is, there's little space in his sweats and even less in his custom-made boxers, so the friction you're giving him is just causing his cocks to press together, mixing pre-cum leakage since his tips are touching.
sukuna tips his head back. "fuck, what are you doing, human? this is obscene," he pants, unable to stifle his sounds. the remote control in one of his four hands clatters to the sofa cushion as he focuses on your feet between his strong thighs, not even interesting in playing it cool anymore.
the fabric of his sweats bunches and stretches over his thickening shafts, pressing against all the ridges and veins and heightening his sensitivity. it's different from if he were bare, or if it were your hands wrapping around his dicks. there's so much stimulation with both your feet on both his cocks through his clothes; that he just can't hold it in much longer.
the heads of his cocks keep rubbing quick circles against each other with each pump of your feet on him, having created a large wet spot on the front of his pants. you laugh softly, and he grits his teeth with embarrassment, a dark flush spreading across his cheeks. "do not- hnghh- mock me..." he tries to get out, but just manages to slur all his words together as his groans take over.
you continue moving your feet up and down in a long, rhythmic, stroking motion, the precum leaking out of him smearing along his dicks and acting as a heavy lubricant. the heat and mosture is trapped between fabric and skin.
you increase the pressure, squeezing his cocks together and curling your toes around the swollen heads, the movement a heavy, dragging sensation that makes his hips twitch upwards involuntarily. "you havin' fun, kuna?" you tease upon seeing the fucked out expression on his face, and he grits his teeth with aggravation.
"ill get you - fuck - back for this in just a moment, believe me..."
he breaks off into another heavy groan.
by now, the entire front of his sweatpants are soaked from pre seeping out of both his tips.
sukuna's close. close to cumming in his pants from some foot rubbing. so pathetic.
you pick up the pase, feet moving in frantic, inconsistent motions so that all of him is stimulated at once, effectively milking his cock through his pants. at some point, he shudders, grabbing fistfuls of his pink locks to keep himself calm. but its hard when you keep rubbing your toes on his sensitive tips, squeezing and rolling them against one another, while your sole and heel press into his shafts.
sukuna uses two of his hands to press your feet together a little harder, lifting them up and down on his dick quick and rough; making them press all up on his cock until finally, a fresh bout of wetness spreads on his pants.
he grunts your name as he cums, keeping your feet on him while he bucks up into them, his other two hands gripping the back of the sofa to keep him stable as he cums from both of his swollen tips.
convulsing, more and more cum pumps out of sukuna, your feet squeezing it straight out of him.
your feet keep grinding the hot release into the cloth of his pants, mixing it with sweat and the patch of pre from earlier, making a sticky mess all over the pants. some even seeps out and rests on the outer seam because of the thin fabric. you've made such a mess of him.
satisfied, you pick up the remote from the ground and kiss his cheek, changing the channel to your favorite one instead. now that he's spent, he can't really snatch it back from you or argue, and you get to watch your favorite without hearing any of his complaints. a huge win in your book, for sure.
cw. princess! reader, prince! aerion, separate kingdoms, no targcest or familial relations involved, cheating (reader cheats on her betrothed), unprotected sex, rough sex, power play, semi-public sex, creampie.
synopsis. aerion admires you. respects you as a leader, an influence on your people, and as a woman. he never thought he'd meet his match, and he wishes to explore you further.
the long council table was meant to impress.
carved black oak, polished so beautifully that candlelight shimmered across its surface. banners hang from the high stone walls, each one bearing the sigils of the great houses gathered there. politics.
aerion hated politics.
although, that wasn't entirely true. aerion simply loathed most people involved in them. the stammering lords, nobles who bowed too low and replied in haste to gain his approval even if nothing but nonsense left their mouths, courtiers who pretended their trembling was respect instead of fear.
but you were different. aerion did not loathe you at all.
across the table, you sat straight-backed in your chair, a crown of silver filigree resting lightly against your hair. it was your turn to speak, your voice coming out calm and measured as you address the matter of trade tariffs between your kingdom and the crown of house targaryen.
aerion leans back slightly, one arm slung across the carved armrest of his chair, with his boots stretched forward beneath the table. he looks bored, but that is only because he is a master at keeping a neutral expression at all times. in truth, he is staring right at you, imagining doing the most vile of acts to you right here in this room.
he finds you absolutely captivating. you speak like someone who had been born for this; sharp, composed, impossible to interrupt. a lord halfway down the table attempts to interject and you cut him off with nothing more than a polite turn of your head and a single raised brow.
you're so beautiful and charming that it is impossible to tell that you are more similar to aerion than anyone else in this room, ruthless, blood thirsty, and hungry for power. it excites him, how you meet his gaze like an equal.
a prince and a princess. both still beneath the crown but above nearly everyone else at the table. which means that most of these negotiations eventually came down to the two of you speaking while the others hovered around the edges like nervous attendants.
you continue your speech, now discussing shipping routes around the table and gesturing to the map spread out in front of you. he hears none of it, eyes trailing down your figure and stopping at your fingers brushing the parchment as you traced the coastline.
he imagines grabbing your soft hand and pulling you across the table, right onto his lap. or, perhaps bending you over in front of everyone and finally having a taste of you.
Gods.
aerion shifts slightly in his chair.
as you continue speaking, unaware (or perhaps pretending to be) of his eyes burning into you, aerion wonders if you had any idea what you did to him. how badly he wanted to ruin that calm composure of yours.
he imagines leaning close enough that the nobles around the table could no longer hear the filth he wished to whisper in your ear. imagines the slight hitch in your breath when his hand slid-
“aerion.”
your voice cuts cleanly through his thoughts, and he lifts his head and blinks up at you languidly. the room has gone quiet, every lord at the table now staring at him.
“…your thoughts?” you prompt with a little tip of your head, watching him fold his hands together and lean forward slightly. inside, he was still picturing you with your back against the council table while those same lords politely try to pretend they noticed nothing.
“your proposal,” he says smoothly, “is… quite impressive.” a few nobles exchanged surprised glances at his words, for aerion never gave compliments. but his gaze doesn't wave from you. you don't look surprised. if anything, your mouth curved faintly, as though you had expected exactly that answer. and that small smile did something very dangerous to him.
but aerion could not have you. because you were betrothed.
the thought hit him every single time he imagined putting his hands on you. you were to see some foreign prince who your family had formed a carefully arranged alliance with. this man had never sat across a table from you and watched you dismantle an argument piece by piece. he doesn’t know of your sharp tongue or wit like aerion does. he doubts the sod could even handle you.
aerion’s jaw clenches and he curls his fingers slightly against the wood of the table. the idea of another man touching you…
he exhales a slow breath through his nose. across from him, you continue speaking with the other nobles, as you’d accepted aerion’s praise and moved forward right after. he scoffs at your nonchalance. the things he would do to you would make half the court faint.
meanwhile, you've just finished speaking and lean back slightly in your chair, allowing the discussion to continue around the table. you look over at aerion, who makes no move to avert his gaze from you. he simply watches you through lowered lashes, thinking about how easily he could close the distance between you.
and how badly he wanted to see what the princess looked like when she finally lost control.
eventually, you close the council meeting, bringing attention to the late hour and suggesting to reconvene tomorrow. the council chamber slowly empties in a shuffle of robes, clinking goblets, and murmured arguments that would no doubt continue long after the doors closed.
you're already halfway down the corridor when you heard aerion's unmistakable steps behind you, heavy and confident. you speak without turning around.
"i was wondering," you say lightly, still walking, but slowing your pace for him slightly. "how long it would take the prince to abandon the rest of his court."
a low voice answers behind you. "i did not abandon them, princess. i am simply more interested in you."
you finally glance over your shoulder as aerion falls into step beside you. his pale hair gleams in the torchlight of the corridor, silver - almost white against the dark stone walls. his expression is the same arrogant calm he had worn at the table, but his eyes, those sharp violet eyes, are still fixed on you in a way that felt almost leering. but the crown prince would never leer, especially not at another royal. "i escaped," he jokes, looking down at you.
you snort softly and continue walking.
"that poor merchant lord from the western ports will be heartbroken," you tut. "he seemed convinced you cared deeply about his grain tariffs."
aerion scoffs, "if i had to hear one more word about grain tariffs, i would have set the entire port on fire and spared myself the discussion."
you laugh at his audacity, feeling quite amused by the fact he seems to trust you enough to share his true feelings with you. part of you wonders why he is so comfortable with you, enough to tell jokes and walk so close to you that your arms keep brushing, but you figure it is best to not make any assumptions. aerion is just confusing.
meanwhile, he's trying to contain himself because your laugh had ignited something disgustingly warm and pleasant inside him. his stomach seemed to flip upside down when you did it. he watches you as you both walk down the long castle hallway. servants bow as you pass, but neither of you slow for them.
you wave one away absentmindedly when they try to ask something about dinner arrangements. aerion notices. there it was again, your unwillingness to pretend to give a damn about something if it does not interest you. you are so blatantly honest that aerion cannot help but trust you. you do not lie or sugarcoat.
"you are terrible to your staff," he says casually.
you glance sideways at him. "i am not. they just do not recognize when i am not in the mood to talk with them. some of them have been with me years and still do not know my daily routines. it is their fault i get short with them. and they are still paid handsomely. i do not feel sorry at all."
there, more honesty. aerion grins. that is exactly the kind of answer he would have given. "no?" he's thoroughly amused, and continues speaking, wanting to hear more of your thoughts. "you dismissed lord harren rather brutally today. i thought he might cry."
"he was wrong," you reply simply.
"and that justified humiliating him in front of the council?"
you look at him incredulously, figuring the answer would be obvious. "yes."
with a grin, aerion pictures the moment from the meeting - how you'd calmly dismantled the man's argument piece by piece while he sputtered and tried to recover. you hadn't even raised your voice, just watched him crumble. aerion had admired it immensely.
you round a corner, leading him deeper into the quiet wing of the castle where guest chambers were kept for visiting nobility. "your proposal about the eastern shipping lanes," aerion says suddenly. "you were holding something back."
"you believe so, prince aerion?" you ask, lips curving slightly. "that i was leaving points out of the discussion?"
aerion felt a thrill rush through his body. he loves this part, the unspoken game between the two of you where you circle each other without ever quite touching. you provoke each other to see who will yield first to temptation.
you stop walking for a moment beside a tall window where moonlight spilled across the stone floor. “the tariffs were bait,” you admit, making no move to back away or avoid being cornered when aerion walks a little closer, enclosing you in the little private alcove under the high window.
“i assumed.”
“the real issue is naval positioning,” you continue. “if your father agrees to the arrangement, your fleets will control the southern trade routes within a year.”
aerion’s eyes flicker with interest. “and you’re giving us that advantage why?”
“because your fleets already control them in practice. i'm simply giving you the direction to dominate.”
the two of you stared at each other for a moment. it wasn’t the first time Aerion had felt it, that strange sense that when he spoke to you, he wasn’t speaking to a rival court. he was speaking to someone who thought the same way he did. calculating. completely unimpressed by the opinions of lesser men and women.
“you are wasted here,” aerion shakes his head. "you should be ruling a kingdom. plundering others." your betrothal surfaced in his mind again briefly, turning his expression sour. that distant crown waiting for you where you will have to sit back and shut up the rest of your life, letting that man do all the talking and plundering for you, when aerion, if he had your hand, would have you rule hand in hand as equals.
"shall we move along to your chambers, prince aerion?"
he shakes his head and backs you in further so you're forced to sit back on the ledge, and he keeps you in with strong arms, putting his face close to yours. you are strong and have resisted many men's attempts at seducing you, but aerion is... different. extremely so. his gaze fixed on yours, his clean, woodsy scent making you woozy. "i do not want to go to bed, princess." he murmurs.
the torchlight from the corridor flickers across the sharp angles of his face. his expression had shifted. though still arrogant and amused, there's a certain predatory look on his face that you hadn't noticed before. "i think you're dismissing me rather quickly."
your eyes flit around his face quickly, your breath held in your lungs as you feel the gap between the two of you get smaller and smaller. he's making you nervous. so nervous that your body is quivering and restless, and your face, neck and ears are burning heat. "i... i showed you the route to your chamber. that was the purpose of the walk."
"was it?" his tone is light and curious as though he already knew the answer. he just wants to see if you will be honest and agree with him or lie and say you're still thinking about that pathetic man you're set to marry. he knows you are not naive, though. you must be aware of the tension humming in the air between you. perhaps you are just too... thoughtful of that man's feelings to indulge in it though.
“one might think,” he speaks slowly, “that after such a riveting council meeting, two like-minded rulers might wish to… continue their discussion.”
“continue our discussion,” you repeat.
“of course.” he says smoothly, leaning a little closer and forcing your body back into the nook, your tits pushed against his chest and your crown now askew in your hair. his breathing has gotten heavier and more erratic, but he still hasn't put his hands on you, not really. but he can tell you're as caught up in this as he is.
“isn't this rather unbecoming of a prince and princess, aerion?” you ask, gaze dropping to his wet pink lips. he licks them unconsciously and leans down further, nearly brushing his mouth against yours. but he's waiting for an explicit sign that you want this as much as he does. that you do not care for your husband to be. that you want aerion to defile you in the halls of your castle where anyone could walk by at any moment.
you pant into his mouth, your lips brushing against his without pressure involved. just getting a taste of what could be.
“my betrothed,” you add breathily, “would not be pleased to hear i've been in such close proximity to you.”
"your betrothed is not here." he says immediately, hand snaking behind your head and grabbing at your hair almost brutishly, tipping your head up so your mouths are angled perfectly against each other, but you're still not actually kissing.
you gasp and fist your hands in the back of his robes to steady yourself, eyes fluttering shut. aerion's scent fills up every inch of space in your senses again, and you try to deepen the almost-kiss, just for him to back away slightly and tut at you mockingly. "oh princess." he croons. "weren't you taught to say please?"
for a moment, you can't seem to steady yourself as he runs his hands along your body, mouth moving lethargically against yours. the confidence you wield so easily in court feels… distant here. irrelevant. "i-" you start, your voice catching in your throat embarrassingly. aerion exhales, letting out an airy groan past your lips. "go on..." he prompts. he has all the time in the world to pull this from you. "tell me what you want."
you let out a shaky inhale as your resolve, so unshakable before, slips away. your voice is hardly audible when you admit it; “…you.”
aerion stills momentarily, only long enough for the answer to settle, before he grins slowly. “there it is,” he murmurs.
his hand tightens slightly at the back of your head to hold you there as he finally closes the distance, sealing his mouth fully against yours and pushing you back with his weight as he dominates the kiss. he swallows your sounds with his tongue, using the first opportunity he can to slip it into your mouth and lave it over yours.
you paw at him in return, fingers fisting in the fabric of his robes, pulling him closer until there's no space left between the two of you at all. he groans at your insistence and lowers his hands to your front, undoing the laces lining the top of your gown rapidly.
without removing his mouth from yours, he pushes his hands against your newly bare skin, hands finding the soft mounds of your breasts and moaning at how round and pert they feel in his cool palms. how quickly your nipples bud and swell under his touch, sensitive to the pads of his thumbs and his pinching fingers. you buck into his touch, not unhappy with his emboldened behavior.
it's overwhelming in the best way. his tongue swirling around yours, his lips pushed and molded perfectly against the seam of your mouth, and his big, cool hands on your warm chest has your thoughts slipping, your composure unraveling piece by piece as the tension that’s been building finally has somewhere to go.
aerion seems so impatient in the way he handles you. letting his lips slip off yours with saliva strings webbing between both your swollen mouths, he slowly moves his kisses down to your jaw. his teeth bite into your skin, cutting into the soft flesh before he allows you the soothing press of his tongue. hes merciful enough to soothe the marks hes been leaving on you.
your hands fist in his clothes as he mouths and fondles your body. at the moment, you feel no shame about being soiled before marriage. you're not even promised to aerion. and yet the betrayal your betrothed would feel if he found you and the crown prince touching and mouthing at each other like rabid animals does not make you hesitate.
aerion pushes his body between your legs, letting you feel the hard length of his cock through his clothes. one hand descends to lift your hips so he can press his cock against you right through your wet underwear. you gasp and moan at all the sensations at once. his cock, tongue, and hands on you. "more," you say pleadingly, pushing him up against you and reaching down to palm at his long, thick cock. it's bigger than you anticipated. heavy in your palm as he pushes his hips instinctively into your hand.
"you learn quick, princess." he praises, groaning at your fist wrapping around his clothed cock. “you want it? show me how much.”
obediently, you lean back and hike your dress up, pulling your underwear to the side to reveal your glistening pussy to his hungry gaze. you even go so far as to spread yourself with two fingers, letting him see the pearlescent strings of arousal clinging to your pussy lips.
his pupils dilate the moment he sees how wet and ready for him you are, slick oozing out of you in thick rivulets. the control he'd initially had in the council room snaps completely, and he removes his breeches and bottoms and fists his hard, pale cock, lining it up with your hole.
you gasp as he rubs his red, swollen tip along your folds, the friction coaxing pitiful whines past your lips as your juices and his thick pre-cum smear together, making a mess of you.
the head of his cock parts your folds agonizingly slow as he starts to slip inside you, his hand letting go of the base of his cock to let your pussy do the work in gripping him and sucking him in deeper. "so tight," he grunts, leaning forward to push more of himself inside you. "i'd expect nothing less from you, princess. look at how well you take me."
his cock stretches you out further and further, the sensation of being full taking over the closer he gets to bottoming out. you can't take your eyes off his as his cock sinks in, and finally, with one slick pop, his balls hit the curve of your ass while he rests snugly inside you.
taking a minute to let your soft walls adjust to his size, he rests inside you, focused on the way his balls twitch against your ass and how his cock has fully disappeared into your hole, milking him with a vise grip. he groans, hands sliding down your soft, supple body worshippingly.
then, unable to withold his need to fuck you proper, he draws back and slams back into you, his cock dragging forwards into your puffy walls and mixing in all your slick. your lips draw together in a pout as you whimper out his name, peering down at where his cock is stuffing your pussy and thrusting in and out. you look down and spread your pussy lips, your eyes drawn to the motion of your walls clinging to his cock and sucking him back in with every rut of his thick cock.
you're dizzy with pleasure, and all aerion does is chuckle at the fucked out expression on your sweaty, flushed face. "hungry little pussy," he comments mockingly, smirking at the squelching noises your hole makes. "can barely hear your noises over hers."
though he really would like to play calm and collected with you, it's difficult for him to maintain subtlety with how soft and warm you are around his pulsing shaft. you suck him back in and milk his cock when he tries to draw back, and it makes it so hard for him to keep pounding your cunt silly when all you want to do is keep him stuffing you full.
that, the way you spread your hole for him to fuck proper, and the borderline vulgar expression on your face, how you keep looking up to gauge how he feels as if seeking his approval, it all has him going stupid inside of you. he grabs you by the hips and drags you up on his cock so you're no longer seated, but pressed flat up against the wall with your legs on his shoulders so he can fuck you deeper.
he bounces you on his cock like a toy, groping the fat of your thighs and ass while hissing at how you tighten down around him and dig your nails into his shoulders. with the new position, it doesn't take long for aerion to reach that one weak spot you've never known about until now. the swollen head of his cock prods against it again and again while his balls squish against your ass.
"aerion!" you cry out, your moans increasing in pitch and volume until he rapidly shushes you.
"fuck, keep the noise down." he curses, holding you against him and deepening his thrusts into you. you feel him reach impossibly deeper with every drive of your hips, and it's hard for you to listen and obey when he keeps fucking your cunt like this. you can feel your orgasm fast approaching with the incessant stimulation to your weak spot and the fabric of his robes rubbing against your puffy clit. "else we'll get caught and everyone'll know what the sweet princess gets up to at night."
your mouth opens in a dramatic, gasped moan at his threat, and he quickly silences you with yet another deep kiss.
he wonders if you kiss your bethrothed like this.
the thought makes him plunge his tongue into your mouth greedily, staking his claim on you while all you can do is run your tongue against his while his cock busies itself with filling your softening walls that hold onto him tight. he feels his load churning in his balls and his stomach twisting up with each lewd run of your tongue on his and his cock pumping your pussy, and he shudders, squeezing you tighter against him when your hands fist in his hair, silently coaxing him to cum.
hungrily, aerion licks your lips upon envisioning himself pumping you full of his cum and sending you back to your chambers full of him, watching his hot load trickle down your little legs as you walk into your bedroom. the last encouragement he needs before he cums is your soft voice against his lips, crooning; "i need it, aerion, f-fill me please."
he groans and hugs you tighter, continuing his deep, resounding thrusts while starting to spill into you, breeding your pussy without another thought. he swirls his hips against yours and grinds into you to fuck his cum as deep as it can go, moaning and splurting out more sticky cream when you arch your back and moan, walls fluttering around him as you also hit your peak and make a mess of his cock. nothing's in your head but him and the pleasure he's giving you. not tarrifs, or your husband to be.
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"enough, you. i am trying to watch this." sukuna hisses, pushing your socked feet away from his face for the umpteenth time. you keep rubbing the fuzzy fabric against him because it makes him shudder. you never thought he, your hulking, strong, worryingly resistant-to-pain boyfriend would be all sensitive and ticklish to some fuzz, and yet here you are.
"why? it's cute, kuna. im just showing you somethin'." goadingly, you nudge the clean fabric under his chin, hoping to rile him up further, and he grabs your ankle and drags you forward, snarling at you and grabbing both of your feet, holding them in place against his lap.
oh.
oh.
he must underestimate you.
slowly, you rub the soles of your covered feet back and forth against his crotch, feeling the bulge twitch and throb at the attention inflicted on it. now, sukuna's trying to save face, staring stubbornly at the tv and pretending his dick's not overreacting to some faint touches.
you laugh. "you're so sensitive. think you can cum just from this?"
"i haven't the faintest idea what you're referring to."
you laugh and turn your feet so that your soles are placed together with his chubbed bulges in between. you rub up and down and side to side slowly, rolling his dicks and pressing them together in the thin sweatpants he's wearing tonight. hideous thing, he thinks. he only wore it because you bought it for him after he'd been wearing robes around your home.
wanting him to have more casual, comfortable clothing, you bought him a couple pieces of loungewear - mostly in gray - and gave it to him, reassuring him tht nobody's meant to see him in it but you.
and here you are, taking advantage of his love for you and willingness to wear the thin fabric that makes the print of his dick visible through it, an easy way for you to watch his cocks grow and react whenever your feet rub on them just right.
with how hard he is, there's little space in his sweats and even less in his custom-made boxers, so the friction you're giving him is just causing his cocks to press together, mixing pre-cum leakage since his tips are touching.
sukuna tips his head back. "fuck, what are you doing, human? this is obscene," he pants, unable to stifle his sounds. the remote control in one of his four hands clatters to the sofa cushion as he focuses on your feet between his strong thighs, not even interesting in playing it cool anymore.
the fabric of his sweats bunches and stretches over his thickening shafts, pressing against all the ridges and veins and heightening his sensitivity. it's different from if he were bare, or if it were your hands wrapping around his dicks. there's so much stimulation with both your feet on both his cocks through his clothes; that he just can't hold it in much longer.
the heads of his cocks keep rubbing quick circles against each other with each pump of your feet on him, having created a large wet spot on the front of his pants. you laugh softly, and he grits his teeth with embarrassment, a dark flush spreading across his cheeks. "do not- hnghh- mock me..." he tries to get out, but just manages to slur all his words together as his groans take over.
you continue moving your feet up and down in a long, rhythmic, stroking motion, the precum leaking out of him smearing along his dicks and acting as a heavy lubricant. the heat and mosture is trapped between fabric and skin.
you increase the pressure, squeezing his cocks together and curling your toes around the swollen heads, the movement a heavy, dragging sensation that makes his hips twitch upwards involuntarily. "you havin' fun, kuna?" you tease upon seeing the fucked out expression on his face, and he grits his teeth with aggravation.
"ill get you - fuck - back for this in just a moment, believe me..."
he breaks off into another heavy groan.
by now, the entire front of his sweatpants are soaked from pre seeping out of both his tips.
sukuna's close. close to cumming in his pants from some foot rubbing. so pathetic.
you pick up the pase, feet moving in frantic, inconsistent motions so that all of him is stimulated at once, effectively milking his cock through his pants. at some point, he shudders, grabbing fistfuls of his pink locks to keep himself calm. but its hard when you keep rubbing your toes on his sensitive tips, squeezing and rolling them against one another, while your sole and heel press into his shafts.
sukuna uses two of his hands to press your feet together a little harder, lifting them up and down on his dick quick and rough; making them press all up on his cock until finally, a fresh bout of wetness spreads on his pants.
he grunts your name as he cums, keeping your feet on him while he bucks up into them, his other two hands gripping the back of the sofa to keep him stable as he cums from both of his swollen tips.
convulsing, more and more cum pumps out of sukuna, your feet squeezing it straight out of him.
your feet keep grinding the hot release into the cloth of his pants, mixing it with sweat and the patch of pre from earlier, making a sticky mess all over the pants. some even seeps out and rests on the outer seam because of the thin fabric. you've made such a mess of him.
satisfied, you pick up the remote from the ground and kiss his cheek, changing the channel to your favorite one instead. now that he's spent, he can't really snatch it back from you or argue, and you get to watch your favorite without hearing any of his complaints. a huge win in your book, for sure.
the facility smells surprisingly pleasant as caleb walks in. the lady at the front desk greets him with a polite smile before redirecting him to the physical therapist who's supposed to be attending to him in room 6B.
caleb feels tense, rolling his shoulders like a coiled spring. his body's fucking tight, stiff from neglecting stretches and rest days for so long. he's been training ten hours a day minimum to prepare for his next fight. he figures, to make him even more annoyed than he already is, that he'll be paired with some stodgy, balding man who has no time for anything and just wants his day to be over.
instead, he's met with you. wide eyed with creamy soft skin. your hair is pulled back to show off all your delicate facial features, and there's a faint sheen of oil on your hands before you even touch him.
caleb is frozen.
"caleb, right?" you ask, voice clinical.
his pulse spikes. aware of the space between you shrinking as you take a few steps forward, the weight of your gaze lands on him intensely.
"uh… yeah," he manages. he wants to sound confident, but the minute you cock your head towards the massage table, he's like a nervous puppy. he flops down unceremoniously after tugging off his shirt. he's about to tell you where he's tense and what he needs help with, but you're already grabbing onto his shoulders, massaging with firm, deliberate pressure, aaaand he forgets every word he knows.
your hands glide down his back and rub in slow circles, and in response, every muscle tightens and melts at the same time under your touch. he can't stop the hitch in his breath, the tremor in his hands as they grip the edge of the table. "i need to loosen your traps before anything else. you're so wound up here." you murmur, pressing your palms into the tension along his shoulder blades. you watch him shiver and arch his back instinctively, pressing into you needily.
"shit... yeah, gotta relax." he mutters under his breath. caleb swears he's never been this aware of someone touching him before. probably it's because you're so fucking hot, but your magical touch does help too. your hands knead deeper, teasing the tension out of his shoulders. caleb is trying to focus on breathing, but his body reacts faster than his brain; he can't help it.
he's hard. his cock has begun to stiffen in his thin shorts.
you pause and tip your head, pushing your fingers up the curve of his spine, then back to his shoulders. he wants to lean back, and get more so badly. he's in heaven. every inch of him is lit up, every nerve ending alive to your touch. you lean down slightly, pressing into the small of his back with deliberate pressure, and he groans; half surprise, half out of pleasure. "fuck," he mutters, head dropping forward, letting your hands take over completely.
"alright," you say calmly, tapping his shoulder. he's so worked up that he doesn't catch how your eyes scan his face and body with interest. "turn over for me, please." caleb freezes mid-breath, and his chest rises and falls rapidly. "uh… turn over?" he asks, pulse hammering. the simple act of obeying makes him feel exposed in ways he's not used to.
"yes," you say smoothly, not waiting for him to protest as you've already begun to tug him onto his back. "on your back. relax." he hesitates a fraction too long, hips tilting, hands gripping the edge of the table as he slowly pivots. the second he's facing you, he realizes just how vulnerable he is.
your fingers ghost lightly over the top of his hips first. caleb jerks slightly, while his cock, pressed snugly against his broad, short clad thighs, is straining visibly. he knows you can tell he's aroused, but you don't seem to be affected. you've seen it before; a lot of guys react this way during your massages, and you treat it like it's nothing.
"oh," he sighs, trembling. he tries to push back, but your hands are faster, coating the tense muscles of his inner thighs in oil. your thumbs press in, kneading and gliding along sensitive flesh, and his eyes squeeze shut, because the more he looks at you, the more he's inclined to make a mess in his boxers. caleb can't sit still. his hips arch involuntarily, little whimpers escaping him.
"you okay?" you ask softly, but your voice carries an undertone that makes it clear you already know the answer.
"i… y-yeah, uh. no," he stammers, chest rising and falling unevenly. his cock pulses with every glide of your fingers. you lean down slightly, pressing just a little more into his inner thigh, thumbs circling tantalizingly.
you let your fingers trace the contours, teasing the sensitive dips where thigh meets cock, ignoring the obvious leaking and the slick sheen that's forming. you rub up his thighs, thumbs hooking under his balls to rub the sensitive spot underneath. the soft area right above his asshole. caleb whole body shudders, small gasps, whimpers, and shaky groans spilling past his lips.
he keeps trying to pull away slightly, only to squirm back against your hands. caleb's cock throbs with every movement of your fingers, leaking heavier, drooling down his thighs. you glance down, casually noting the mess but not commenting.
every time you glide your fingers along his inner thigh, every accidental brush against his cock, he shivers and gasps like his body is on fire. "caleb…" you chastise softly, letting your fingers linger on the slick skin at the base of his cock. "you're not going to calm down like this." he opens his eyes, looking to see what you mean by that, and his heart races like mad when he sees you tug down the waistband of his shorts, then his boxers, to free his swollen cock.
with one hand, you slowly wrap your fingers around the slick length, thumb pressing down on the sensitive tip. he begins groaning so loud that you have to shove your hand over his mouth with your free hand, also using it to keep him down so he doesn't lift too much. "shh... calm down. i'm just helping you, see? i'm doing my job." you begin milking his cock with your fist, and with each slick slide of your palm up and down, his body gives a slight shudder, hips bucking against your grip. your oil slick hand mixed in with his precum is making a gooey messy of his cock.
"ohhh fuck…" he groans into your palm, "stop…don't stop…pl-please."
you keep your pace, fingers gliding up and down, thumb circling the tip, ignoring the way he's absolutely dripping. when he keeps fucking his hips up into you to get you to stroke him harder, you adjust slightly, letting your hand slide along his cock harder and twisting occasionally, to increase the stimulation tenfold. "so responsive…can't help yourself, can you?"
"no…oh my gosh, right there… i can't…" he moans as his hips press up into your hand, cock pulsing in your grip. every stroke of your fingers sends him spiraling closer to the edge and leaking heavier.
the first tremor runs through him like lightning, hips bucking hard, chest heaving, and a long, shuddering groan escapes him. thick, hot, dripping streams cover your hand, running down his thighs, slicking the table beneath him. his thighs quiver violently and his messy cock pulses in your hand. cum dribbles out of him in masses.
you just keep your hand moving. "there. that's better." you remove your hand from his mouth and join it to wrap around his fat cock as well, jerking him off firmly.
you slide both hands around his cock, twisting and stroking. his body bucks helplessly under you. his chest arches, head thrown back against the padded table as sweat drips along his temple. "oh fuck me-" his voice cracks, breaking into little gasps that sound far too desperate for a big boxer like him.
your thumbs smear his leaking tip, dragging the slick down his shaft as you stroke him faster, both hands working in tandem to palm his cock.
caleb tries to grab your wrist to slow you down, but his fingers barely latch on before his own strength betrays him and he just holds your hands on his dick. you squeeze just under his swollen head and twist up in a slow drag, and the sound that rips out of his throat in response is obscene.
his thighs are spread wide now, knees trembling, and his hips keep canting upward no matter how much he tries to hold them down. you don't even need to encourage him; his body is chasing your hands on their own.
you stroke harder, both fists twisting, pumping him until he's cumming yet again, shooting in thick ropes that splash his stomach, your hands. "mm. see?" you murmur, finally slowing the strokes but not letting go. "all that tension, gone. you just needed someone to work it out of you."
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"enough, you. i am trying to watch this." sukuna hisses, pushing your socked feet away from his face for the umpteenth time. you keep rubbing the fuzzy fabric against him because it makes him shudder. you never thought he, your hulking, strong, worryingly resistant-to-pain boyfriend would be all sensitive and ticklish to some fuzz, and yet here you are.
"why? it's cute, kuna. im just showing you somethin'." goadingly, you nudge the clean fabric under his chin, hoping to rile him up further, and he grabs your ankle and drags you forward, snarling at you and grabbing both of your feet, holding them in place against his lap.
oh.
oh.
he must underestimate you.
slowly, you rub the soles of your covered feet back and forth against his crotch, feeling the bulge twitch and throb at the attention inflicted on it. now, sukuna's trying to save face, staring stubbornly at the tv and pretending his dick's not overreacting to some faint touches.
you laugh. "you're so sensitive. think you can cum just from this?"
"i haven't the faintest idea what you're referring to."
you laugh and turn your feet so that your soles are placed together with his chubbed bulges in between. you rub up and down and side to side slowly, rolling his dicks and pressing them together in the thin sweatpants he's wearing tonight. hideous thing, he thinks. he only wore it because you bought it for him after he'd been wearing robes around your home.
wanting him to have more casual, comfortable clothing, you bought him a couple pieces of loungewear - mostly in gray - and gave it to him, reassuring him tht nobody's meant to see him in it but you.
and here you are, taking advantage of his love for you and willingness to wear the thin fabric that makes the print of his dick visible through it, an easy way for you to watch his cocks grow and react whenever your feet rub on them just right.
with how hard he is, there's little space in his sweats and even less in his custom-made boxers, so the friction you're giving him is just causing his cocks to press together, mixing pre-cum leakage since his tips are touching.
sukuna tips his head back. "fuck, what are you doing, human? this is obscene," he pants, unable to stifle his sounds. the remote control in one of his four hands clatters to the sofa cushion as he focuses on your feet between his strong thighs, not even interesting in playing it cool anymore.
the fabric of his sweats bunches and stretches over his thickening shafts, pressing against all the ridges and veins and heightening his sensitivity. it's different from if he were bare, or if it were your hands wrapping around his dicks. there's so much stimulation with both your feet on both his cocks through his clothes; that he just can't hold it in much longer.
the heads of his cocks keep rubbing quick circles against each other with each pump of your feet on him, having created a large wet spot on the front of his pants. you laugh softly, and he grits his teeth with embarrassment, a dark flush spreading across his cheeks. "do not- hnghh- mock me..." he tries to get out, but just manages to slur all his words together as his groans take over.
you continue moving your feet up and down in a long, rhythmic, stroking motion, the precum leaking out of him smearing along his dicks and acting as a heavy lubricant. the heat and mosture is trapped between fabric and skin.
you increase the pressure, squeezing his cocks together and curling your toes around the swollen heads, the movement a heavy, dragging sensation that makes his hips twitch upwards involuntarily. "you havin' fun, kuna?" you tease upon seeing the fucked out expression on his face, and he grits his teeth with aggravation.
"ill get you - fuck - back for this in just a moment, believe me..."
he breaks off into another heavy groan.
by now, the entire front of his sweatpants are soaked from pre seeping out of both his tips.
sukuna's close. close to cumming in his pants from some foot rubbing. so pathetic.
you pick up the pase, feet moving in frantic, inconsistent motions so that all of him is stimulated at once, effectively milking his cock through his pants. at some point, he shudders, grabbing fistfuls of his pink locks to keep himself calm. but its hard when you keep rubbing your toes on his sensitive tips, squeezing and rolling them against one another, while your sole and heel press into his shafts.
sukuna uses two of his hands to press your feet together a little harder, lifting them up and down on his dick quick and rough; making them press all up on his cock until finally, a fresh bout of wetness spreads on his pants.
he grunts your name as he cums, keeping your feet on him while he bucks up into them, his other two hands gripping the back of the sofa to keep him stable as he cums from both of his swollen tips.
convulsing, more and more cum pumps out of sukuna, your feet squeezing it straight out of him.
your feet keep grinding the hot release into the cloth of his pants, mixing it with sweat and the patch of pre from earlier, making a sticky mess all over the pants. some even seeps out and rests on the outer seam because of the thin fabric. you've made such a mess of him.
satisfied, you pick up the remote from the ground and kiss his cheek, changing the channel to your favorite one instead. now that he's spent, he can't really snatch it back from you or argue, and you get to watch your favorite without hearing any of his complaints. a huge win in your book, for sure.
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cw. princess! reader, prince! aerion, separate kingdoms, no targcest or familial relations involved, cheating (reader cheats on her betrothed), unprotected sex, rough sex, power play, semi-public sex, creampie.
synopsis. aerion admires you. respects you as a leader, an influence on your people, and as a woman. he never thought he'd meet his match, and he wishes to explore you further.
the long council table was meant to impress.
carved black oak, polished so beautifully that candlelight shimmered across its surface. banners hang from the high stone walls, each one bearing the sigils of the great houses gathered there. politics.
aerion hated politics.
although, that wasn't entirely true. aerion simply loathed most people involved in them. the stammering lords, nobles who bowed too low and replied in haste to gain his approval even if nothing but nonsense left their mouths, courtiers who pretended their trembling was respect instead of fear.
but you were different. aerion did not loathe you at all.
across the table, you sat straight-backed in your chair, a crown of silver filigree resting lightly against your hair. it was your turn to speak, your voice coming out calm and measured as you address the matter of trade tariffs between your kingdom and the crown of house targaryen.
aerion leans back slightly, one arm slung across the carved armrest of his chair, with his boots stretched forward beneath the table. he looks bored, but that is only because he is a master at keeping a neutral expression at all times. in truth, he is staring right at you, imagining doing the most vile of acts to you right here in this room.
he finds you absolutely captivating. you speak like someone who had been born for this; sharp, composed, impossible to interrupt. a lord halfway down the table attempts to interject and you cut him off with nothing more than a polite turn of your head and a single raised brow.
you're so beautiful and charming that it is impossible to tell that you are more similar to aerion than anyone else in this room, ruthless, blood thirsty, and hungry for power. it excites him, how you meet his gaze like an equal.
a prince and a princess. both still beneath the crown but above nearly everyone else at the table. which means that most of these negotiations eventually came down to the two of you speaking while the others hovered around the edges like nervous attendants.
you continue your speech, now discussing shipping routes around the table and gesturing to the map spread out in front of you. he hears none of it, eyes trailing down your figure and stopping at your fingers brushing the parchment as you traced the coastline.
he imagines grabbing your soft hand and pulling you across the table, right onto his lap. or, perhaps bending you over in front of everyone and finally having a taste of you.
Gods.
aerion shifts slightly in his chair.
as you continue speaking, unaware (or perhaps pretending to be) of his eyes burning into you, aerion wonders if you had any idea what you did to him. how badly he wanted to ruin that calm composure of yours.
he imagines leaning close enough that the nobles around the table could no longer hear the filth he wished to whisper in your ear. imagines the slight hitch in your breath when his hand slid-
“aerion.”
your voice cuts cleanly through his thoughts, and he lifts his head and blinks up at you languidly. the room has gone quiet, every lord at the table now staring at him.
“…your thoughts?” you prompt with a little tip of your head, watching him fold his hands together and lean forward slightly. inside, he was still picturing you with your back against the council table while those same lords politely try to pretend they noticed nothing.
“your proposal,” he says smoothly, “is… quite impressive.” a few nobles exchanged surprised glances at his words, for aerion never gave compliments. but his gaze doesn't wave from you. you don't look surprised. if anything, your mouth curved faintly, as though you had expected exactly that answer. and that small smile did something very dangerous to him.
but aerion could not have you. because you were betrothed.
the thought hit him every single time he imagined putting his hands on you. you were to see some foreign prince who your family had formed a carefully arranged alliance with. this man had never sat across a table from you and watched you dismantle an argument piece by piece. he doesn’t know of your sharp tongue or wit like aerion does. he doubts the sod could even handle you.
aerion’s jaw clenches and he curls his fingers slightly against the wood of the table. the idea of another man touching you…
he exhales a slow breath through his nose. across from him, you continue speaking with the other nobles, as you’d accepted aerion’s praise and moved forward right after. he scoffs at your nonchalance. the things he would do to you would make half the court faint.
meanwhile, you've just finished speaking and lean back slightly in your chair, allowing the discussion to continue around the table. you look over at aerion, who makes no move to avert his gaze from you. he simply watches you through lowered lashes, thinking about how easily he could close the distance between you.
and how badly he wanted to see what the princess looked like when she finally lost control.
eventually, you close the council meeting, bringing attention to the late hour and suggesting to reconvene tomorrow. the council chamber slowly empties in a shuffle of robes, clinking goblets, and murmured arguments that would no doubt continue long after the doors closed.
you're already halfway down the corridor when you heard aerion's unmistakable steps behind you, heavy and confident. you speak without turning around.
"i was wondering," you say lightly, still walking, but slowing your pace for him slightly. "how long it would take the prince to abandon the rest of his court."
a low voice answers behind you. "i did not abandon them, princess. i am simply more interested in you."
you finally glance over your shoulder as aerion falls into step beside you. his pale hair gleams in the torchlight of the corridor, silver - almost white against the dark stone walls. his expression is the same arrogant calm he had worn at the table, but his eyes, those sharp violet eyes, are still fixed on you in a way that felt almost leering. but the crown prince would never leer, especially not at another royal. "i escaped," he jokes, looking down at you.
you snort softly and continue walking.
"that poor merchant lord from the western ports will be heartbroken," you tut. "he seemed convinced you cared deeply about his grain tariffs."
aerion scoffs, "if i had to hear one more word about grain tariffs, i would have set the entire port on fire and spared myself the discussion."
you laugh at his audacity, feeling quite amused by the fact he seems to trust you enough to share his true feelings with you. part of you wonders why he is so comfortable with you, enough to tell jokes and walk so close to you that your arms keep brushing, but you figure it is best to not make any assumptions. aerion is just confusing.
meanwhile, he's trying to contain himself because your laugh had ignited something disgustingly warm and pleasant inside him. his stomach seemed to flip upside down when you did it. he watches you as you both walk down the long castle hallway. servants bow as you pass, but neither of you slow for them.
you wave one away absentmindedly when they try to ask something about dinner arrangements. aerion notices. there it was again, your unwillingness to pretend to give a damn about something if it does not interest you. you are so blatantly honest that aerion cannot help but trust you. you do not lie or sugarcoat.
"you are terrible to your staff," he says casually.
you glance sideways at him. "i am not. they just do not recognize when i am not in the mood to talk with them. some of them have been with me years and still do not know my daily routines. it is their fault i get short with them. and they are still paid handsomely. i do not feel sorry at all."
there, more honesty. aerion grins. that is exactly the kind of answer he would have given. "no?" he's thoroughly amused, and continues speaking, wanting to hear more of your thoughts. "you dismissed lord harren rather brutally today. i thought he might cry."
"he was wrong," you reply simply.
"and that justified humiliating him in front of the council?"
you look at him incredulously, figuring the answer would be obvious. "yes."
with a grin, aerion pictures the moment from the meeting - how you'd calmly dismantled the man's argument piece by piece while he sputtered and tried to recover. you hadn't even raised your voice, just watched him crumble. aerion had admired it immensely.
you round a corner, leading him deeper into the quiet wing of the castle where guest chambers were kept for visiting nobility. "your proposal about the eastern shipping lanes," aerion says suddenly. "you were holding something back."
"you believe so, prince aerion?" you ask, lips curving slightly. "that i was leaving points out of the discussion?"
aerion felt a thrill rush through his body. he loves this part, the unspoken game between the two of you where you circle each other without ever quite touching. you provoke each other to see who will yield first to temptation.
you stop walking for a moment beside a tall window where moonlight spilled across the stone floor. “the tariffs were bait,” you admit, making no move to back away or avoid being cornered when aerion walks a little closer, enclosing you in the little private alcove under the high window.
“i assumed.”
“the real issue is naval positioning,” you continue. “if your father agrees to the arrangement, your fleets will control the southern trade routes within a year.”
aerion’s eyes flicker with interest. “and you’re giving us that advantage why?”
“because your fleets already control them in practice. i'm simply giving you the direction to dominate.”
the two of you stared at each other for a moment. it wasn’t the first time Aerion had felt it, that strange sense that when he spoke to you, he wasn’t speaking to a rival court. he was speaking to someone who thought the same way he did. calculating. completely unimpressed by the opinions of lesser men and women.
“you are wasted here,” aerion shakes his head. "you should be ruling a kingdom. plundering others." your betrothal surfaced in his mind again briefly, turning his expression sour. that distant crown waiting for you where you will have to sit back and shut up the rest of your life, letting that man do all the talking and plundering for you, when aerion, if he had your hand, would have you rule hand in hand as equals.
"shall we move along to your chambers, prince aerion?"
he shakes his head and backs you in further so you're forced to sit back on the ledge, and he keeps you in with strong arms, putting his face close to yours. you are strong and have resisted many men's attempts at seducing you, but aerion is... different. extremely so. his gaze fixed on yours, his clean, woodsy scent making you woozy. "i do not want to go to bed, princess." he murmurs.
the torchlight from the corridor flickers across the sharp angles of his face. his expression had shifted. though still arrogant and amused, there's a certain predatory look on his face that you hadn't noticed before. "i think you're dismissing me rather quickly."
your eyes flit around his face quickly, your breath held in your lungs as you feel the gap between the two of you get smaller and smaller. he's making you nervous. so nervous that your body is quivering and restless, and your face, neck and ears are burning heat. "i... i showed you the route to your chamber. that was the purpose of the walk."
"was it?" his tone is light and curious as though he already knew the answer. he just wants to see if you will be honest and agree with him or lie and say you're still thinking about that pathetic man you're set to marry. he knows you are not naive, though. you must be aware of the tension humming in the air between you. perhaps you are just too... thoughtful of that man's feelings to indulge in it though.
“one might think,” he speaks slowly, “that after such a riveting council meeting, two like-minded rulers might wish to… continue their discussion.”
“continue our discussion,” you repeat.
“of course.” he says smoothly, leaning a little closer and forcing your body back into the nook, your tits pushed against his chest and your crown now askew in your hair. his breathing has gotten heavier and more erratic, but he still hasn't put his hands on you, not really. but he can tell you're as caught up in this as he is.
“isn't this rather unbecoming of a prince and princess, aerion?” you ask, gaze dropping to his wet pink lips. he licks them unconsciously and leans down further, nearly brushing his mouth against yours. but he's waiting for an explicit sign that you want this as much as he does. that you do not care for your husband to be. that you want aerion to defile you in the halls of your castle where anyone could walk by at any moment.
you pant into his mouth, your lips brushing against his without pressure involved. just getting a taste of what could be.
“my betrothed,” you add breathily, “would not be pleased to hear i've been in such close proximity to you.”
"your betrothed is not here." he says immediately, hand snaking behind your head and grabbing at your hair almost brutishly, tipping your head up so your mouths are angled perfectly against each other, but you're still not actually kissing.
you gasp and fist your hands in the back of his robes to steady yourself, eyes fluttering shut. aerion's scent fills up every inch of space in your senses again, and you try to deepen the almost-kiss, just for him to back away slightly and tut at you mockingly. "oh princess." he croons. "weren't you taught to say please?"
for a moment, you can't seem to steady yourself as he runs his hands along your body, mouth moving lethargically against yours. the confidence you wield so easily in court feels… distant here. irrelevant. "i-" you start, your voice catching in your throat embarrassingly. aerion exhales, letting out an airy groan past your lips. "go on..." he prompts. he has all the time in the world to pull this from you. "tell me what you want."
you let out a shaky inhale as your resolve, so unshakable before, slips away. your voice is hardly audible when you admit it; “…you.”
aerion stills momentarily, only long enough for the answer to settle, before he grins slowly. “there it is,” he murmurs.
his hand tightens slightly at the back of your head to hold you there as he finally closes the distance, sealing his mouth fully against yours and pushing you back with his weight as he dominates the kiss. he swallows your sounds with his tongue, using the first opportunity he can to slip it into your mouth and lave it over yours.
you paw at him in return, fingers fisting in the fabric of his robes, pulling him closer until there's no space left between the two of you at all. he groans at your insistence and lowers his hands to your front, undoing the laces lining the top of your gown rapidly.
without removing his mouth from yours, he pushes his hands against your newly bare skin, hands finding the soft mounds of your breasts and moaning at how round and pert they feel in his cool palms. how quickly your nipples bud and swell under his touch, sensitive to the pads of his thumbs and his pinching fingers. you buck into his touch, not unhappy with his emboldened behavior.
it's overwhelming in the best way. his tongue swirling around yours, his lips pushed and molded perfectly against the seam of your mouth, and his big, cool hands on your warm chest has your thoughts slipping, your composure unraveling piece by piece as the tension that’s been building finally has somewhere to go.
aerion seems so impatient in the way he handles you. letting his lips slip off yours with saliva strings webbing between both your swollen mouths, he slowly moves his kisses down to your jaw. his teeth bite into your skin, cutting into the soft flesh before he allows you the soothing press of his tongue. hes merciful enough to soothe the marks hes been leaving on you.
your hands fist in his clothes as he mouths and fondles your body. at the moment, you feel no shame about being soiled before marriage. you're not even promised to aerion. and yet the betrayal your betrothed would feel if he found you and the crown prince touching and mouthing at each other like rabid animals does not make you hesitate.
aerion pushes his body between your legs, letting you feel the hard length of his cock through his clothes. one hand descends to lift your hips so he can press his cock against you right through your wet underwear. you gasp and moan at all the sensations at once. his cock, tongue, and hands on you. "more," you say pleadingly, pushing him up against you and reaching down to palm at his long, thick cock. it's bigger than you anticipated. heavy in your palm as he pushes his hips instinctively into your hand.
"you learn quick, princess." he praises, groaning at your fist wrapping around his clothed cock. “you want it? show me how much.”
obediently, you lean back and hike your dress up, pulling your underwear to the side to reveal your glistening pussy to his hungry gaze. you even go so far as to spread yourself with two fingers, letting him see the pearlescent strings of arousal clinging to your pussy lips.
his pupils dilate the moment he sees how wet and ready for him you are, slick oozing out of you in thick rivulets. the control he'd initially had in the council room snaps completely, and he removes his breeches and bottoms and fists his hard, pale cock, lining it up with your hole.
you gasp as he rubs his red, swollen tip along your folds, the friction coaxing pitiful whines past your lips as your juices and his thick pre-cum smear together, making a mess of you.
the head of his cock parts your folds agonizingly slow as he starts to slip inside you, his hand letting go of the base of his cock to let your pussy do the work in gripping him and sucking him in deeper. "so tight," he grunts, leaning forward to push more of himself inside you. "i'd expect nothing less from you, princess. look at how well you take me."
his cock stretches you out further and further, the sensation of being full taking over the closer he gets to bottoming out. you can't take your eyes off his as his cock sinks in, and finally, with one slick pop, his balls hit the curve of your ass while he rests snugly inside you.
taking a minute to let your soft walls adjust to his size, he rests inside you, focused on the way his balls twitch against your ass and how his cock has fully disappeared into your hole, milking him with a vise grip. he groans, hands sliding down your soft, supple body worshippingly.
then, unable to withold his need to fuck you proper, he draws back and slams back into you, his cock dragging forwards into your puffy walls and mixing in all your slick. your lips draw together in a pout as you whimper out his name, peering down at where his cock is stuffing your pussy and thrusting in and out. you look down and spread your pussy lips, your eyes drawn to the motion of your walls clinging to his cock and sucking him back in with every rut of his thick cock.
you're dizzy with pleasure, and all aerion does is chuckle at the fucked out expression on your sweaty, flushed face. "hungry little pussy," he comments mockingly, smirking at the squelching noises your hole makes. "can barely hear your noises over hers."
though he really would like to play calm and collected with you, it's difficult for him to maintain subtlety with how soft and warm you are around his pulsing shaft. you suck him back in and milk his cock when he tries to draw back, and it makes it so hard for him to keep pounding your cunt silly when all you want to do is keep him stuffing you full.
that, the way you spread your hole for him to fuck proper, and the borderline vulgar expression on your face, how you keep looking up to gauge how he feels as if seeking his approval, it all has him going stupid inside of you. he grabs you by the hips and drags you up on his cock so you're no longer seated, but pressed flat up against the wall with your legs on his shoulders so he can fuck you deeper.
he bounces you on his cock like a toy, groping the fat of your thighs and ass while hissing at how you tighten down around him and dig your nails into his shoulders. with the new position, it doesn't take long for aerion to reach that one weak spot you've never known about until now. the swollen head of his cock prods against it again and again while his balls squish against your ass.
"aerion!" you cry out, your moans increasing in pitch and volume until he rapidly shushes you.
"fuck, keep the noise down." he curses, holding you against him and deepening his thrusts into you. you feel him reach impossibly deeper with every drive of your hips, and it's hard for you to listen and obey when he keeps fucking your cunt like this. you can feel your orgasm fast approaching with the incessant stimulation to your weak spot and the fabric of his robes rubbing against your puffy clit. "else we'll get caught and everyone'll know what the sweet princess gets up to at night."
your mouth opens in a dramatic, gasped moan at his threat, and he quickly silences you with yet another deep kiss.
he wonders if you kiss your bethrothed like this.
the thought makes him plunge his tongue into your mouth greedily, staking his claim on you while all you can do is run your tongue against his while his cock busies itself with filling your softening walls that hold onto him tight. he feels his load churning in his balls and his stomach twisting up with each lewd run of your tongue on his and his cock pumping your pussy, and he shudders, squeezing you tighter against him when your hands fist in his hair, silently coaxing him to cum.
hungrily, aerion licks your lips upon envisioning himself pumping you full of his cum and sending you back to your chambers full of him, watching his hot load trickle down your little legs as you walk into your bedroom. the last encouragement he needs before he cums is your soft voice against his lips, crooning; "i need it, aerion, f-fill me please."
he groans and hugs you tighter, continuing his deep, resounding thrusts while starting to spill into you, breeding your pussy without another thought. he swirls his hips against yours and grinds into you to fuck his cum as deep as it can go, moaning and splurting out more sticky cream when you arch your back and moan, walls fluttering around him as you also hit your peak and make a mess of his cock. nothing's in your head but him and the pleasure he's giving you. not tarrifs, or your husband to be.
clark kent is sooo cramming your knees up and spreading you open as far as you can go so he can drill his cock into you from above and see your face while he pushes his dick into your tummy… and he’s dumping every drop of his thick load straight into your womb and pressing his tip into your cervix to make sure it gets in there even if it aches a little because any other way won’t satisfy him. if he’s gonna breed you, he has to do it properly. and then he turns all shy afterwards and asks you if he did okay and if you need water or cuddles first.
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