#weapon handling

“Tell me: do you regret asking that I show no mercy to you before we began?”

The heat of Ike’s huffed breath fanned over the side of your neck, his voice gruff and raspy. His hold on your body felt even more secure with the squeeze of your hip and the heavy muscled arm hugging around your torso, with one calloused hand palming over and kneading your breast.

Though your eyes could not resist from squeezing closed together in pleasure, you could still catch glimpse of where his mighty Ragnell and the shattered pieces of what was once your weapon were lodged across one end of the training room. These all simply told who was the victor of your preceding sparring session, the result of which lead to you now getting fucked so ravenously by Ike.

You had trained with and fared decently against his younger, World of Radiance self, with your curiosity and pride wondering how would be able to handle him at his older age.

Your eyes were rolled back, your mind blank with pleasure. For a man who did not ease up on the swing of his sword, he had plenty of energy to spare, as shown to you by how long he had been pounding away at your core without any intention of stopping. Not to mention, the sheer thick, fat size of his cock that kept you feeling so utterly full. As soon as his belt was undone and tossed aside, your eyes were wide and your mouth was watering once you saw the leaking, uncut tip of his dick.

Barely it would seem.

And yet, even if he didn’t relent one bit in his need to ravage you fully, you turned back to face him with a reassuring, if not enamored expression on your face.

“Not one bit.”

A small but genuine smile tugged on his lips, one that remained as he brought his head forward to kiss you fully.

As your mouths met, he drew you even closer to his broad, statuesque frame, the ferocity and speed of his thrusts increasing. When the two of you parted for breath, a low yet amused chuckle rumbled from deep within his chest.

“My, my has my swordsmanship been bested by the love of my life?”

His voice teasing yet utterly and helplessly enamored, Polnareff continued to marvel at the sight of your head bobbing up and down his cock while your hand stroked the base of it in tandem to your actions. Just seeing his dick pass between your lips–the very ones that he would fight any evil in the world if just to kiss them once again–never failed to draw his senses towards an amorous frenzy.

After all, the first time when the two of you were intimate, with your expression looking utterly awestruck when you caught sight of the sheer length and girth of his cock was when he was absolutely certain that he wanted to ravish and revere you for the rest of his life.

Still, upon seeing the small but noticeable quirk of your full lips upon his remark–one that was undoubtedly of prideful satisfaction–, he could not help but feel a sense of challenge in response.

“Ah chaton, you look so pleased–like you know this to be true,” Polnareff began with a low and sultry chuckle, one that lowered into a lustful growl. “In that case…”

As much of a surprise as it was, your positions became flipped with you lying upon the sofa while Polnareff hovered over you, an amused glint in his eyes especially when he noticed your pouty expression. Low laughter rousing from him once again, he bent down to kiss your lips, all while his hand grasped the hilt of his cock, ready to nudge it against your dripping core.

“This…This is the best pull ever…!”

Those words–tinged with awed, quivering rapture–were uttered from the lips of the surly yet dignified Vice-Captain of the Shinsengumi, Hijikata. However, he couldn’t be bothered to think of upholding the rigid code that he himself was so adamant to have each member abide by.

Especially not while you were mewling so preciously beneath him, your cosplay of Best Girl™ from his new favorite gacha game Hōeken RunATrainOnMeBu was disheveled in such an arousing way. Breasts exposed, the hem of your skirt hiked up your thighs, all while your complexion had a cute pink hue to it.

With the influence of that damned otaku spirit still lingering within his being, there was no way he could even think about keeping still and composed when you greeted him with this attire upon his return from work–the intention behind your actions being the hope of drawing his attention from RNG-induced frustrations to focus purely on you.

Hijikata’s hands eagerly groped your breasts while his mouth hungrily kissed and suckled upon your nipples. The moans that left your lips offered him an exhilarating rush of pleasure, his senses driven mad by the need to ravage you senselessly.

He kept you pinned down securely onto his futon, the full, thick length of his cock pounding into your core without any sense of restraint. As soon as his eyes beheld your cosplay, he was near instantly erect and throbbing, his mind possessed at the idea of every drop of his cum splattered across your thighs and breasts, trickling down your ass, all while you gaze up at him longingly as you beg for him–Master Hijikata–to fuck you more.

Exactly as depicted in the sizeable stack of doujinshi he picked up from the most recent Comiket.

Hijikata couldn’t hold back a grin, even as he shivered with utter delight.

In the rarest of occurrences, Conrad’s mask was off.

Rather, to be more specific, his mask was shattered into tiny pieces while he barely avoided a strike of Thunder cast his way.

Despite his promise to Halcyon of hiding his identity, he wasn’t too unnerved by his ruined mask, his focus on something far more important.

The trail of fallen Duma followers that lead to a captured Temple of Mila, along with how his Blessed Lance was currently lodged into the center of what was meant to be an altar for a witch conversion ritual was testament to this. He prided himself on being a gallant and dashing knight, but today he was feeling utterly vengeful, if not terrified beyond belief.

However, he could–at last–be at ease, especially with his mask off.

With his face no longer obscured, he could help you remember how you once saw him as your lover rather than the persistent fool who dared to sever you from Duma’s call–or so Nuibaba had you believe after she kidnapped you while you and Conrad became separated during the landslide outside Zofia Castle. Regardless, even though he had to take the most extreme of measures to save you, he was relieved that the two of you were reunited.

But it did not mean that Duma’s influence was immediately lifted, and thus was why he was relentless in bringing you back to your senses.

Sacrilege or not, he would ask Mila’s forgiveness later, but right now, he had to make sure that you were freed from whatever madness that Nuibaba imposed onto your mind by the way he was fucking you upon the temple grounds.

When it came to sex, Conrad was usually reserved and submissive, ever shy yet happy to lay beneath you while you took charge. But now, he had to assume the dominant role, his lean and muscled frame caging you to the floor while his thick cock pounded into your core.

His eyes reflected nothing but determination and love as they gazed into yours, finding utter relief as he beheld the natural color of your irises rather than the soulless haze of Duma’s power. More than ever, he would seek to protect you and allow absolutely nothing in the world to lay harm to you, who he adored so much.

You mewled out of pleasure beneath Conrad, your hands gripping onto his shoulders with need as you sought to find clarity and peace from him. In response, he groaned deeply, bending down to smother your lips with his. There was a pure longingness to his kiss, for he was left far too starved of you and your love during your separation.

He was reluctant to draw away when the both of you parted for air. However, in response, his arms circled around your body and hugged you close and tight towards his, the deepened melding you and him making him shudder and find even more reason to drive his cock into you with passionate fervor.

The cry of his name reached his ears while your arms circled around his neck in response to his actions.