#savoring this thread...........................

It's one of those rare rest days in the middle of tour season where Leila could just... breathe. It was a packed summer for the band, full of multiple day music festivals, small venue shows, and they'd be joining a tour as an opener for the last half of the dates. It was beyond her wildest dreams, even with the success of Calvary, this all seemed to leave it in the dust.

She was dressed as casually as possible for the day out, not wanting to draw more attention than necessary, wandering downtown into the local candy shops and record stores, purchasing little things to make the time go by a bit quicker.

She drew short at a corner that overlooked the river and the wind blew cold, but she couldn't care less. Her attention was drawn by a guitar player busking on the street corner, not much to his name, but the sound was good and the technique was sound.

She lingered through a few of the songs, clapping politely and waiting until she was the only one lingering to step forward, pulling a $100 worth of bills from her purse and holding them out.

Toa PhantasmaGoria Event starter!

There was something for everyone at this festival, and for Priam, that something was an abundance of meat pies. Warm out of the oven and filled with meat, gravy, and vegetables, he would’ve grabbed a few even if it wasn’t for the challenge.

The challenge of course, was that a prize awaited whoever could finish twenty.

In Priam’s opinion, twenty personal sized pies was a reward in and of itself, but he didn’t back down or know defeat.

He sat at a table by the pie stand, dressed mostly as himself. The small modifications to his usual attire were a black cape and a gigantic mage hat like those worn by mages in Ylisse. He still had his headband on under it, and the wide circular brim was pushed back a tad for ease of pie consumption.

Three down, seventeen or however many he wanted to go.

Kaz had been sparing with the details. Hardly a shock — Kaz Brekker never gave information unnecessarily. She’s starting to understand why: if he had told her that his intention would be to leave her alone with a former drüskelle in chains, she would have laughed and told him to find someone else. 

     ( She is nineteen years old and running, running, snow crunching under her feet, breath coming in sharp, painful gasps, the cold of the air stinging her skin, and voices behind her. )

     Breaking a prisoner out of Hellgate tonight. Be available. Bring bandages. And Astoria had obeyed — because Per Haskell told her that she should, because the indenture she’d negotiated for herself means that when Per Haskell tells her to jump, she asks how high. Which means that she’s done what Kaz asks, and which means, apparently, that she’ll be breaking into the Ice Court. 

     ( The water hears and understands. The ice does not forgive. She’s not sure which she’s meant to be, now. ) 

     She doesn’t interfere when the man — Matthias, they’d said, his eyes afire with fury and every muscle in his body tense, like some great cat prepared to hunt — leaps at Kaz. Kaz doesn’t need her help, would be insulted if she tried, and so she simply waits, hands folded in her lap, clean bandages in a cloth bag beside her, eyebrows raised. When Matthias is shackled and pushed back into the room again, Astoria speaks for the first time since her arrival, defaulting to Fjerdan rather than Kerch. 

  Aha! She knew Draven would agree to such a last minute request! It could either be because of their friendship (though, she doubts the knight would admit it without her insistence) or because he hated being around nasty aristocrats as much as she did. Either way, she didn’t mind the reason for his immediate compliance - and yes, she was going to ignore the defeated tone he spoke in because that was basically his default tone but enough of that: they needed a battle plan.

  “Your kindness truly knows no bounds, Sir Draven! As expected of my most favorable companion...” Crystalline eyes darted from side to side, hoping that any eavesdropping folks passing them by were satisfied with her praise. If not, she’ll have to disgust both her and Draven over more honey-slathered sweet nothings. “So noble and benevolent, I am truly thankful for our partnership and hope to enjoy our dance together at a relative of mine’s birthday.”

  She wove her fingers in her hair, curling dandelion yellow locks. It was an uncle’s birthday, someone on her mother’s side, who knew a few men that wanted to vie for her hand in marriage. Her uncle was part of a weak territory, more rural than he desired, and if he was able to marry his niece, Delight, to one of his successors then there would be a whole merge and... Basically, Delight would bring in the money and he’d sow all the riches.

Satoru can't believe you can take his entire cock!

Like, down to the hilt. He's grown so used to being too big for the women he sleeps with that he knows to expect it.

But then you come along, straddling his lap and sinking down, down, down onto his thick length until your ass rests flush against his thighs, whimpering at the overwhelming fullness once you reach the base. As your walls flutter around him, he genuinely considers proposing on the spot.

Satoru doesn't know where to keep his eyes; on how your tight cunt stretches so desperately around him, and the creamy ring already forming at the base of his cock?

Or maybe on your round tits, watching them bounce up and down as you make up the courage to slowly ride him, hips lifting and lowering cautiously.

His favorite sight though, without a doubt, is that pretty face of yours contorted in pleasure; eyes rolled back and teeth biting down hard on your bottom lip in an unsuccessful attempt to contain your outright pornographic whines as you pick up your pace, bouncing on him harder and faster.

He watches intently with his large hands grabbing firmly onto your thighs, your ass, your waist. Anywhere he can touch you. His head leans into your ear, close enough that you can hear his whispered praise. "Jus' like that, baby. Fuck yeah."

And when your movements stall as you clench around him, head thrown back while you ride out the high of your first orgasm, he doesn't waste a moment before picking up where you left off, hips bucking as he thrusts his cock into you instead.

With him in control, his tip reaches even further inside of you, thumping your g-spot with every stroke and making you scream his name. He doesn't hold back either, not now that he knows you can take it. His hands grab your ass, fingers indenting flesh as he guides your hips all the way up before slamming them back down in time with his primal thrusts.

And he watches in awe—mouth agape and staring reverently through half-lidded baby blue eyes as he feels his own release building, and wills his body to hold on a bit longer so as to savor every second spent watching you ride him.

When your dainty hand instinctively flies to your neglected, needy clit, Satoru grabs your wrist, pinning it to his chest while his other hand takes over. He rubs slow, precise circles, the cadence at odds with the feverish pace of his hips thrusting in and out of your dripping pussy.

When he can't hold out any longer, he finishes with his head buried in the crook of your neck, groaning your name into your skin as his cock twitches deep inside of you, firing off thick white ropes of cum. You're right there with him, clenching impossibly tight around him while your body shudders and your nails press crescents into his pale skin.

But one look at you, completely fucked out yet still gazing hungrily at him through fluttering lashes, mischief written all over your face—one look's all it takes for him to imagine you sprawled out under him, on your knees for him, bent over every surface in his lofty house.

Before he can hold himself back, Satoru's kissing you again, white lashes fluttering with excitement when your hands thread through his hair and you kiss him back with just as much zeal before pulling away to ask, "c'mere baby, wanna see if your throat can take all of me too?"

.ೃ࿔*:･

you moan softly as you unclasp your bra, finally freeing your sore breasts from the day’s grip. the cotton material is tossed carelessly onto the small chair next to the bed in your shared room with your husband, toji. the relief that washes over your body is instantaneous, though your thoughts quickly wander, as they always do, to him.

maybe he’s still out dealing with work? at a bar, having drinks with his friends? your chest tightens slightly at the idea, but you shake it off just as quickly. you trust him; you’ve always trusted him.

still, the week has been rough on you. the pregnancy hasn’t been easy, with nausea all morning and cramps that left you aching by the evening. toji had been there when he could, but he worked late most nights, and tonight, you couldn’t really bring yourself to wait up for him.

“where did i- oh,” you sigh as your eyes catch the glass of water sitting perfectly on your nightstand. he must’ve left it for you earlier, a quiet reminder of how much he cared even when he wasn’t around.

you down it quickly, the cool liquid soothing your body as you carefully lower yourself onto the bed, mindful not to hurt your growing belly. once fully settled, you bite your lip, stretching lazily before grabbing your phone to send him a text.

wc ; 961

warnings ; mirror sex(no shit sherlock), possessiveness HELP?, creampie, breeding &praisekink...?

The large, gilded mirror in Zuko’s private chambers reflected everything.

Moonlight spilled across the room, but the only light that mattered was the warm glow of the candles and the way Zuko’s golden eyes burned as he held you. He had you on your knees in front of the mirror, your upper body pressed forward, chest nearly touching the cool floor while your ass stayed raised for him.

“Zuko—” you whimpered as he pushed back inside you from behind, slow and deep, stretching you open around his thick cock.

“Shh, I’ve got you,” he murmured playfully, voice low and rough with desire. His large, scarred hands slid over yours, fingers threading between yours and pinning them firmly to the floor on either side of your head. He used his weight to keep you deliciously trapped beneath him, completely at his mercy.

You could see everything in the mirror.

The way your face was flushed and desperate, lips parted, eyes glassy with pleasure. Zuko’s powerful body caged yours from behind, his broad shoulders and muscular back flexing with every thrust. His dark hair had fallen loose from its topknot, strands sticking to his sweat-dampened skin.

He leaned down, pressing his chest flush against your back, and kissed the side of your neck before sinking his teeth into the sensitive skin just below your ear. You moaned loudly, clenching around him.

“Look at yourself,” Zuko whispered hotly against your ear, voice sweet and filthy at the same time. “Look how pretty you look when I’m fucking you like this.”

He rocked his hips deeper, grinding against you, keeping you pinned with his body and his hands over yours. Every thrust pushed you forward slightly before he pulled you back onto his cock, controlling the pace completely.

“You feel so good,” he groaned, biting down on your shoulder again, then soothing the mark with his tongue. “So tight… so warm… You’re mine, aren’t you?”

You whimpered pathetically, unable to do anything but take him. The position had your legs spread wide, knees bent, while Zuko’s strong arms kept your upper body locked down and his hips did all the work. You could barely move — only tremble and moan beneath him.

In the mirror, you watched his face — the way his eyes darkened with lust every time your expression twisted in pleasure. He was drinking it in, savoring every little whimper, every flutter of your lashes, every time your mouth fell open in a silent cry.

“That’s it, love,” he praised softly, kissing the shell of your ear. “Let me hear those pretty sounds. I love when you fall apart for me.”

His thrusts grew a little faster, deeper, still controlled but more insistent. One of his hands stayed laced with yours, the other sliding slightly to grip your wrist as he nipped at your neck again.

The pleasure was building unbearably fast. Your thighs started shaking, pussy fluttering wildly around his thick cock with every deep stroke. “Zuko— I’m— I’m gonna—”

“That’s it,” he encouraged, voice strained with lust. “Cum for me, sweetheart. Let me see you fall apart in the mirror.”

Your orgasm crashed over you hard. You cried out his name, eyes locked on your own reflection as your face contorted in pleasure, mouth open in a broken moan. Your walls clenched rhythmically around him, squeezing his cock as waves of intense pleasure rolled through your body. Zuko groaned deeply, fucking you through every pulse and twitch of your orgasm.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he whispered tenderly, even as he fucked you harder. “All flushed and needy… taking everything I give you. My perfect girl.”

You moaned his name brokenly, eyes locked on the mirror — on the sight of Zuko claiming you so completely, his body dominating yours while his voice stayed so sweet and loving in your ear.

He smiled against your skin, eyes never leaving your reflection.

“I could watch you like this forever.”

His pace suddenly became more desperate, hips snapping harder against your ass. “Fuck— you’re squeezing me so tight,” he growled, breath hot against your neck. “I’m close…”

With a few final, deep thrusts, Zuko buried himself to the hilt inside you. He came with a low, guttural groan, pressing his forehead against your shoulder as thick, hot spurts of cum flooded your pussy. You felt every pulse — the way his cock throbbed hard inside you, pumping rope after rope of warm seed deep into your womb. The sensation was overwhelming, making your belly feel full and warm.

Your eyes stayed glued to the mirror, unable to look away. You watched Zuko’s face contort in raw pleasure, his golden eyes fluttering half-shut, lips parted as he moaned your name. His muscular body tensed behind you, hips stuttering as he kept grinding slowly, pushing his cum even deeper. You could see the moment it started to leak out — thick, pearly white fluid dripping down your thighs from where his cock stretched you open.

A broken, shaky whimper escaped your lips. The sight of him filling you combined with the intense warmth spreading inside you pushed you into another smaller, trembling orgasm. Your walls fluttered and clenched around his pulsing cock, milking him for every last drop as you moaned helplessly.

“Zuko… oh gods—” you gasped, voice hoarse and wrecked. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment and arousal at how obscene you looked in the mirror — flushed, teary-eyed, and leaking his cum while he stayed buried deep inside you.

Zuko stayed buried inside you for a long moment, breathing heavily, placing soft kisses of the back of your neck while his hand gently stroked your side.

“Mine,” he whispered possessively, golden eyes still fixed on your joined bodies in the mirror. “All mine.”