#and lacey dainty hearts all over everything

[wurm-food]

Valentine’s Day Angel Devil. Cupid Angel Devil. I’m rotating the thought in my mind.

#so cute?? so sad?? #I’ll be your valentine I swear #heart shaped sprinkles on ice cream #and lacey dainty hearts all over everything #brain is angel devil tonight I’m sorry #wurm.txt

[en-hale]

Room For Five ♡‧₊˚

Hyungs x gn!reader ♡‧₊˚⋆｡˚ ⋆

En-Hale Comeback ~~ Manifesto Day 21 !!

SYNOPSIS ≕ You're all pooped out due to your boyfriend's party surprise, but that's not all he has in store for you...

WARNING ≕ 18+/smut (fivesome, blindfolded, rough sex, oral sex - both receiving, multiple orgasms, unprotective sex). Read at your own discretion !

WORD COUNT ≕ 2.0k

AUTHOR'S NOTE ≕ SURPRISE !!!! FIVESOME WITH ENHA HYUNGS! I knew I needed to do something BIG for the last day, and this was the hardest, yet the most thrilling thing I've ever written! You get to choose who's your boyfriend and who the other three are that's fucking you! Have fun and Enjoy! Thank you all that have tuned in to the 21 days of En-Hale Comeback! I'm back baby!!!!!!!

──•°.-ˏˋ ♡ ˊˎ-.°•──

© to en-hale. no translations/reposts etc. (w/out permission!)

Your birthday had been very tiring and hectic. You had a thing for parties or two, but by the time the clock struck 12, it was like your energy drained all at once.

But when you got home, the celebration wasn't over when your adorable boyfriend planned a surprise party for you. since it was your own home, you couldn't avoid it and head to bed, so instead, you ate yet another sugary dessert and a swig of alcohol and could hear your stomach gurgle somewhere in-between. You knew morning you would be having a rough time. The harsh music that pounded your head didn't help much either, but you didn't want to seem ungrateful, so you put on a brave face and danced the rest of the night away.

Eventually, everything dialed down and people started leaving and the night was officially over. You sharply inhaled a breath you didn't know you were holding.

"Not a good night?" Your boyfriend asked, his voice deep. The dark of the night made it hard to see him, but the very little light that you did have silhouetted his perfect shape.

"Well," You sighed, chuckling to yourself, "a nice dinner and a quiet day would've suficed too mister party-goer."

He chuckled to himself before coming closer and placing a dainty kiss to your forehead. "Sorry. But it's a big milestone! I just wanted to celebrate it." He sat the both of you down on the sofa, wrapping an arm around the small of your back, pulling you in close. You'd been touching and rubbing and bumping up against bodies all day, but this was the only touch that mattered. You practically melted in his arms.

"I'm kidding. It was a good day, just really packed." You said. "I thought I was a party animal but I think that part of me has died." He gave a deep chuckle in your ear and planted wet kisses to your cheeks.

"Well, do you want to go somewhere else? A lot quieter somewhere else?" He offered.

"Please," You whined. "I know this is our house but I can't stand another minute of looking at my face on plastic cups."

His laugh was deep as he stood. He extended his hand out to you and you took it. You thought about asking questions as to exactly where this place was, but you decided against it. A 30-minute drive later, he pulled up to a fancy hotel, the kind you'd fathom staying the night at after your wedding day.

"I know you've been given many birthday gifts," He began speaking as he drove around for parking. "But this birthday gift is special," he found your thigh and squeezed it. "So I hope you like it." You felt your heart flutter at the possible gifts that he could be mentioning.

And it did that all the way to the check-in and into the room. It was decked out in fancy galore with a view of the city lights and a balcony above the large pool. There was already a bottle of champagne in a tub of ice with roses sprinkled around. You giggled with nerves.

You still didn't get the opportunity to ask what was happening when he seated you on the edge of the bed. He pulled from his back pocket a lacey black scarf and cascaded it over your eyes and tied it tightly.

Everything was dark. Not even the smallest of light seeped through.

"Babe?" Your voice was very quiet. "What --"

He shushed you and his warm finger met your lips. "You'll know soon enough."

And then he went silent. You couldn't hear his breathing or his footsteps. It didn't feel like it was a long time, but you were getting antsy and anxious, so each second passed by in slow motion.

Then suddenly a hand was pressed to your shoulder and urging you to lay against the bed. So you do it without asking questions. But that hand didn't feel familiar to you. Almost like it was too cold and lanky. That wasn't like your boyfrined's hands to feel like that. You felt the bed dip to the side of you and then lips were pressed to yours. These were his lips, you knew that much. So you kissed back, sighing softly as he kissed you gently. The stressful day you had minutes ago washed away as his tongue founds itself in your mouth. You open your mouth wider allowing him more access.

You squealed when you felt hands grip around your waist brushing delicately. It was those cold hands again, but even so, they were large and felt smooth against your skin.

"Is that okay?" It was your boyfriend's voice, and that's when you realized what was going on and what exactly this gift was.

You wanted to smile but you were more nervous than anything. You had to focus hard on his voice through your heart pounding in your ears. So you just suffice with a nod.

"Good. Let me know if it's not," and he's back against your lips twirling his tongue with yours. The hands that were placed around your waist travel their way under your shirt, rubbing small circles against your skin.

With this blindfold on, you had no idea what to expect next out of him or the person he invited in. But it was when you felt the bed dip again that a cord struck in your spine. A dangerously hot hand found your ear and stroked it gently. He continued to toy with it as the other hands rubbed and your boyfriend kissed. Eventually, an inevitable moan left your lips.

As soon as you think there couldn't be any others, you feel your legs being lifted by small yet gentle hands. He rested them on the bed and kissed at your thighs.

This was the point at which you no longer could continue kissing, the sensation of all the different hands put you in overdrive.

"Not too much right?" Your boyfriend whispered to you. You moaned out a no.

You had mentioned maybe once or twice that you were interested in having multiple partners during sex. You worried that he'd get mad or upset, but in surprise, he said he wanted that too. Casual conversations about it carried on every so often, but you had no idea that it would ever carry through, and especially not with 3 other dudes.

"Happy birthday baby," He kissed at your forehead and lifted himself from above you. A few seconds later, the pressure of the bed around you indicated that someone was straddling you, you were sure it was the one with the scorching hot hands. He gave a tester kiss against your lips, but you lifted your hands and wrapped them around his neck, not letting him loose. His lips were just as hot.

You huffed when he let loose of your grasp. He found his way to the side of your neck and kissed roughly. While his lips traveled over your face leaving a wet trail, the others worked hard on getting your clothes off. In seconds, you were lying completely naked in front of four guys.

A part of you wanted to run and hide but another part of you wanted to puff up your chest and ask who's first.

But you don't get the chance to as it's already happening, a watery mouth draped over your nipple and sucked hard. A few moments later, another bent down and did the same to the other side. Your moans escaped like bubbles in the water. While one mouth teased your upper half, you knew your boyfriend's lips all too well and knew they were leaving bruises against your bottom half, near the more sensitive areas.

You trembled beneath them. Your first instinct was to reach out and feel these bodies. each one was soft and covered in lean muscles. You realized they were just as naked as you were.

You trembled harder. The mouths licking around your buds moved in sync down to your stomach and over your thighs. The one above you grinded down slowly and you felt his hardened cock. Your boyfriend had moved back up to your lips and you kissed them hungrily.

But you squealed when a wet sensation played against your fingers. Someone was licking, slowly, and took your entire index finger into their mouth until it was soaking wet. You moaned at how skillful their tongue was at swirling around just your finger. You felt your own self drooling at the mouth. He let go of your finger with a pop and directed it to your heat, mechanically moving it for you. You whined due to the pleasure, but you practically screamed when someone else went down on you. The mouth was warm, a little too warm, and you worried you'd come before it was over. He licked and sucked and soaked you until it was so wet, that it was the only sound in the room.

Your boyfriend stopped kissing you at this point. You were sure he was watching how your face conjured in pleasure, how your back arched off the bed. And then heat was against your face and you knew it was his cock. You grasped it quickly and did the best you could at the angle you were lying in to stroke and suck it harshly.

His groans were deep.

With one more perfectly skillful suck against your heat, you were coming. You tried not to scream, but there was no way you could. So you belted it out until you came down from your high.

But the boys didn't stop there. One grasped your thighs and rolled you over. He gripped your hips and slid you up until you were in the perfect doggy position.

With no warning, the one with the cold hands pushed into you. He was long, a lot longer than you were expecting, and for a moment, you didn't think you'd be able to take it. But he slammed into you, and after a while, the pain was twisted with pleasure.

Your boyfriend's cock was still in your mouth and another one was being jerked in your hand. You felt the last guy sliding his hands against the parts of your body that needed it.

It was like this for a while until the next one wanted a turn and it worked in a rotation. The next dick inside was thick that you felt yourself spreading again. Then there was the familiar cock of your perfect boyfriend who soothed it from its prior workout. the last guy knew how to move his hips and he was right on the bullseye each time.

One's moans get louder and louder and you felt a warm liquid hit your back. Then the second then thirds, and the fourth who, with your permission, came inside. Gosh, was it hot.

You didn't feel like you could release again from how strong your first one was, but as your boyfriend moved back to your come-filled heat, he thrusted fast and hard with his thick fingers, licking and kissing at your skin until you tensed up and came. You felt yourself spilling out and tears brimmed your eyes and threatened to spill.

This was overwhelming but the best thing you had ever experienced. Ever.

He withdrew his fingers. "Happy birthday."

#lee heeseung #park jay #park sunghoon #sim jake #enhypen fivesome #heesueng smut #jay smut #jake smut #sunghoon smut #enhypen hyung line #fivesome #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen fics #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #enhypen reactions #enhypen comeback #enhypen x reader #enhypen x gn reader #enhypen hard thoughts #kpop smut #kpop hard hours #enhypen #engene #enhypen writer #!kay! writer #!kay! writes #en-hale comeback extravaganza #enjoy!

[derireo-galge]

Dolled up and Bound | 2,8k | namgi✍🏼

Yoongi and Namjoon are long time friends, co-workers and teammates but behind the closed doors the elder transforms into a pretty doll for the fellow rapper to use as he pleases.

bondage | objectification | humiliation | manhandling | oppa kink | spanking | overstimulation | sex toys | dry orgasm | dirty talk | face fucking | edging | dom namjoon | sub yoongi

***

He was almost ready. While being spread out on the bed, he went over the mental list, calming himself and his rapidly beating heart. Yoongi turned on his back and straightened the hem of the lacy panties, that were snuggly hugging his hips. His eyes flicked to the clock hanging on the wall and yes, it was almost time.

He kneeled on the soft blankets, sitting prettily, like a good boy. Just as he straightened his back the door to the bedroom opened with a tick and Namjoon walked in.

He was grateful for his friend. Yoongi was hesitant to start anything with him, knowing he himself wasn't in the right place after taking a break in his current relationship. But having thoroughly discussed everything he decided to put his trust in him yet again, albeit on a different level.

It wasn't scary to do it with someone who he spent most of his early youth years with, who he has been working with side by side to this day. Someone he has been through with during either his or the other's downfalls.

Namjoon was a safe territory.

Yoongi lifted his eyes and saw the taller man already looking at him with his dimpled smile full of reassurance and calmness.

- Ready? - he asked and his hyung nodded with a small smile.

Shit, Yoongi didn't think his friend would come here right after a meeting, looking so serious and authoritative in a black dress shirt and nice fitted black pants. It was miles away from his usual relaxed look. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to set his mind towards their session.

Namjoon walked around the bed in a slow pace. Yoongi could feel the intent gaze on his skin. Then the steps halted and a pleasant voice said:

- Pretty.

It sounded like a positive verdict and Yoongi preened on the inside.

The elder felt something small warming up in his chest. He loved the praise, loved sweet words but tonight he wasn't all for that. Nevertheless, he stayed quiet, hands that were resting on his knees were starting to sweat from anticipation.

- Show yourself for me.

Yoongi rose on his knees, arching his back seductively and straightening his shoulders. His fingers caressed the waist where his white crop bralette ended, stroking the skin of his abdomen.

Thumbs hooked in lacey panties and played with the edge. He moved to show himself off to the younger from the side, bending back and smoothing the black fishnet thigh high stockings. The elegant slope of his shoulder line contrasted well with his black collar, adorned with a heart ring and multiple metallic chains.

- Bend over for me, - Yoongi heard and a rush of heat overcame his face.

With just a second of hesitation he supported himself on his palms, bending his arms at the elbows so his behind was higher than the rest of his body.

- Spread your ass nicely, yes, just like that, - Namjoon commented and hummed.

The view was truly sinful, a visibe bulge of cock and balls between full thighs, trapped in the elastic lace.

- Beautiful, - Namjoon breathed out, stepping closer.

Yoongi was still bent over on the bed, supporting himself on his chest and spreading his asscheeks. The younger's finger traced the bulge and batted Yoongi's hands away from his butt. He roughly palmed the round mounds, patting and making them jiggle. Namjoon squeezed the sides and circled his fingers around the waist as much as their length allowed.

- Such a dainty doll is here for me to play with, - he chuckled and the depth of his voice made Yoongi tingle between his legs. - Come here.

The elder crawled to kneel in front of his friend now, looking up to his face expectantly. Two fingers touched his balm covered lips and tapped on them.

- Open up.

His hyung obediently did. Digits entered the hot cavern, gliding on the tongue and twisting around. Yoongi wrapped his lips around them and sucked like he would do with a dick. When the taller man had enough of playing he ordered Yoongi to stand up.

- Spit, - he aaid curtly, holding up a palm to his face and his hyung did as he was told again.

- Panties down. And put your hands behind your back.

He pulled the garment down with his thumbs and straightened in the position.

- Hold still.

A calloused palm, wet with saliva, stroked his hardened erection, the circle of fingers loose and not at all satisfying. When it went harder around his cockhead Yoongi jerked, hands moving unconsciously. That earned him a slap on his cock.

- Ah! - the elder cried out and that was the first sound that escaped his mouth since the beginning of the session.

Namjoon went back to slow light strokes, then unexpectedly thumbed at the slit, making Yoongi arch. And cry out more as two slaps landed on his girth, making it bob.

- Tsk, this doll needs some training, - he mused, slapping on the tip this time and making his hyung rise on his toes and moan as more swats came upon his reddening dick.

Namjoon left him panting and went to get two coils of black rope.

- Lay on your back, - he said, unraveling both of them one by one.

With practiced ease he bound his thigh and ankle together, repeating the process with the other leg too. Inserting a finger between the rope and the skin he checked the tightness and deemed it satisfactory. Yoongi made a grabbing motion with his hands and his friend picked him up easily, pressing him to his chest and rubbing his nape.

- Colour?

- Green, - was his immediate answer.

Namjoon manhandled his hyung on his knees, face leveled with his clothed bulge. Unzipping his pants and pulling out his cock out he glided it along the seam of his lips.

- Suck it, doll, - he almost growled and the pink mouth readily parted for his girth.

Yoongi balanced his bound legs, trying to support most of his weight on his hands which proved to be a difficult task, as Joon kept distracting him with his rapid thrusts, fucking his mouth, uncaring of with how much force he was jostling him.

- What a tight little mouth you have, - he grunted, fucking his face, making his hyung garbled and choke with his throat stuffed. - Take it, like a good toy should.

Yoongi moaned with his mouth full of dick and swallowed around the cockhead. The moment it was gone from his mouth didn't register as he was so into it, he almost fell off the edge if the bed if not for the strong arms catching him.

- Careful, doll, we don't want you hurt that much, right? It's time for some fun for you and that pretty little cocklet that you have.

The elder's cheeks were red and the blush spread even more, down to his chest, as he heard how his body parts were addressed. He was quickly manhandled again and was now kneeling with his back turned to the younger. Cold gel was poured on his entrance, smeared and rubbed by the rough pads. One digit pressed onto his rim and easily breached it for Yoongi diligently prepped himself for Namjoon to use.

- Look at that hungry ass swallowing my finger, - the other commented, - Let's feed it something bigger?

A vibrating plug teased and circled the slicked up hole and was slowly inserted, making Yoongis skin break in goosebumps. The younger used a shorter rope to tie around the base of the testicles, making them stand out, now nicely bound. He swatted at the full thighs to get them to spread wider for better balance.

- Straighten yourself and keep your hands clasped behind your back, - he spanked his doll's asscheek and watched as Yoongi rose as much as he could.

Namjoon kept switching the vibrations up and down in no particular patterns. Some of them were so sudden, Yoongi would unclassified his wrists or move significantly so the younger would then land a loud slap on his balls. Every time. Which happened quite often and soon the elder was trembling from effort and the overwhelming feeling of pleasure and pain combined.

Joon stroked his cock teasingly, watching as it twitched and grew redder the more he edged his pretty possession.

- Call me oppa, - came a sudden request.

Yoongis face prickled with shame.

- No, - he retorted.

Namjoon landed a heavy slap on each of his buttcheeks, burning hot on his skin.

- I want you to call me oppa. Come on, sweet thing, do it for me.

Yoongi shook his head and cried out as more hard spanks landed on his ass in rapid succession.

- I'll keep going until my little fucktoy does it then.

Yoongi saw the opportunity to be bratty and get punished just like he loved it when it was coming his way. He pushed his hands into the mattress and rocked with the force of the loud slaps that were painting his ass bright red. He cried and moaned, tears spilling down his cheeks and with burning sensation on his butt.

Still he wouldn't bulge, he decided, not until he could take no more. It felt exhilarating, he was getting dizzy with how hard he heaved and when he thought he had no place that wasn't swollen from strong spanking left he finally gave in.

- Oppa, please, - he wailed.

Namjoon stopped, blowing on the mark covered skin and smoothing it with his fingertips.

- That's better, pretty.

With that he turned the vibrations up, resting his hand on his hyungs lower back and watching as Yoongi sobbed and trembled with the force of the dry orgasm. He turned the plug off, keeping it nested inside the greedy hole. He undid the ropes binding the elders ballsack and legs and rubbed them to get the blood circulation back to normal quicker.

- Look at this, huh, - he drew Yoongis attention to his angry read cock. - I think you did well enough to come. Or didn't you?

- I did, - the elder sniffed, leaning back onto the broad chest.

Strong arms engulfed him and despite being buff himself he felt small inside that embrace. He kept hugging his kneeling hung from the back, fondling his cock sloppily.

- Are you sure this thing can come at all? - he flicked the tip and that made the other mewl.

- It can, - he whined pitifully, - I can, give me a chance.

- Little fucktoy wants a chance, mm? Let's give it a try then.

He all but scooped Yoongi in his arms, making him screech and chuckle. That reassured the younger that he was going a good job so far. He picked up the discarded lube and sat with his back pressed to the headboard, situating the elder on his crotch facing away. Squirting the cool gel over their could and balls he dropped it on the blanket again. He grabbed his elbows and pulled them towards each other, rendering him helpless and taking some of his weight on himself.

- Work those gorgeous hips for me. Grind on me and make yourself come.

Yoongi whined, he was embarrassed to rub himself like he was in heat. Nevertheless he did exactly that. He rubbed his cock and balls on the ones under him, glide pleasant and slippery. His movements soon became faster and erratic, driving towards climax.

- What a desperate doll, look at yourself, - Joon whispered, supporting his hyung and pushing his own hips up to help him come.

Yoongi cried loudly and came, splattering his come on hid friends muscular thighs, milky drops landing everywhere on tan skin.

- That's a good boy, - he murmured anf that affectionate endearment let the other know the hard part of their session was over.

He sighed as the younger pushed him forward, lowering him on the mattress. Without changing the position he gathered his soles, clad in patterned fishnets and kept them together with strong fingers, trapping his thick leaking length between.

The remaining lube was enough to ghrust between the beautiful feet easily, getting himself to his long awaited climax. He came all over the pink pads, spilling his come on them in thick ropes. He grunted and heaved from finally reaching his high, head full of cotton and pleasantly thoughtless.

Having taken a breather he bent and smoothed the soft legs, avoiding touching yhe marked butt, carefully taking the soiled socks off. He wiped the feet off with a cloth and helped his hyung to carefully lay between his legs.

Yoongi all but melted into the broad chest, emitting a soft sigh. He shuffled in search of a better position and felt namjoons cock under him coming back to life.

- Oh, - he murmured, - were not done yet.

His tone was tired but excited, making Joon chuckle deeply. His heart was fond for the elder, ready to give and take equally.

- Doll wants to be used? - he whispered, - wants to be split open on a thick cock like a good toy that he is?

Yoongi mewled at the filthy words.

- Use me, - he all but pleaded.

The taller man stood up, carefully laying his hyung in his back and putting his legs together. He used the two longer pieces of rope, carefully and securely binding the thighs together all yhe way down to the ankles. He also bound Yoongi's elegant wrists and for the first time this evening. He wondered if this intense manhandling he does with him was the actual secret to his muscles growth.

He slid the nearby chair close and sat on it with Yoongi on his lap, again facing away from him.

- Put your hands around my neck.

- Yes oppa, - the other said willingly, igniting flames in Joon's lower belly.

With joints cracking in a satisfying way the elder did as he was told, again feeling helpless in yhe arms of his friend. Hands clasped under his bound knees were holding him up as if he weighed nothing.

- Let's find your greedy hole and feed it with my cock, little doll, - he rasped and easily speared his hyung on his girth.

- Oh, oh, Jooni-ie, - Yoongi choked out, feeling himself stretch around the girth.

- So fucking tight, baby, - he heaved, breathing deeply to wait out until the other adjusts.

- Fuh-fuck me, - he slurred, hands pulling the younger closer by his neck.

Namjoon started bouncing Yoongi on his cock, pistoning his hips without stopping, chasing his pleasure. Yoongi wailed when the blunt head hit his prostate and could only whine inaudible words.

- Ready to be filled, little thing? You like it when I use you?

- Yes oppa, - the elder choked out as his gland got pushed with the stiff cock, - Love it when you fuck me stupid and fill me up.

- Want oppa's come that much, hmm? Then you shall get it.

He all but pulled Yoongi on his girth, pounding mercilessly and making Yoongi heave and sob. He came with a long drawn growl, shaking and pressing deep inside the elder.

Yoongi's head lolled, helpless, unable to tilt back and rest because of the positions of his raised arms and bound hands. Tears spilt on his cheeks again, he felt aroused and overstimulated.

Joon acted quickly, carrying him to the bed and untying the ropes, it being the priority after all the binding they did today. Yoongi kept whining on the same note until a loud cry fell from his mouth as the younger bent over his trembling body and swallowed his cock whole.

He pressed on the underside with his tongue and bobbed in long deep movements, feeling the pleasant weight in his mouth. It didn't take Yoongi much to come, shaking and wailing inside the welcoming throat. Joon milked him dry, until the very last drop, lapping at the tip.

The elder's parted knees flopped on the bed. He was totally spent, his head was fuzzy and empty. He didn't know how much time passed but he was soon lifted again. He didn't protest as he was carried into the bathroom and only hissed when his cooled off skin hit the hot water as he was lowered inside the tub.

- Hyung? - he heard from the fuzziness overpowering the reality.

- I'm here, - he answered with hoarse voice.

- Want me to stay and help you wash? - the younger would still stay outside the bathroom door to make sure his hyung was okay.

It's just he wasn't always comfortable to be naked outside having sex.

- If you don't mind, you can sit with me, - he mumbled, fingers playing with stray bubbles floating on the surface.

Nanjoon sighed, pleasantly stretching and warming up from the steamy air, filled with soothing aromas. He was ready to pamper his hyung before bed for being such a perfect pretty doll for him and staving off their raging thoughts away before another day comes.

#ai-ee au #ai-ee au namgi #bts au fic #bts fanfction #namgi fic #namgi

[imwaytooinlovewithhs]

Cuddle?

In which an innocent cuddle session turns into something more...

Harry felt a gentle tugging on the hem of his sleeve. He lifted his headphones off of his ears, turning to find Y/n standing behind him. Her face was flushed, and she was wearing only a t-shirt...one of his to be exact.

Harry cooed, lifting his hand up to brush against her soft cheek.

“What is it, darling?” He said, his voice soft.

Y/n tugged on his shirt once again, then glanced towards their bedroom door.

“Cuddle?” She said quietly, looking at Harry innocently. Harry hummed, smiling.

He got up, and immediately Y/n felt even smaller due to Harry’s height. He picked the small girl up, holding her bum firmly in one hand while he strolled toward the bedroom.

He flopped them both down onto the mattress, and unbuckled his jeans, shrugging them onto the floor. The noise itself made a shiver run up Y/n’s spine, and she burrowed underneath the fluffy covers. Harry slipped under the covers to join her, and used his strong arms to pull her close. She giggled, pressing herself up against Harry’s warm frame.

They stayed like that for a while, cuddled up against each other, Harry whispering sweet nothings into Y/ns ear. It was only when Y/n’s slender fingers trailed down Harry’s middle part, fiddling with the hem of his boxers.

“Ah, s’that what you need, sweet one?” Harry’s voice was deep and raspy, and immediately made Y/n shy away. Harry chucked. “S’ alright, baby girl, nothing t’be shy about. Go on, what were you planning to do with that dainty little hand of yours, anyways?” He took Y/n’s hand, and placed it at the hem of his boxers, smirking.

Y/n blushed, and continued what she was originally doing. She lifted Harry’s boxers, trailing her hand down to his already hard cock. She pumped it a few times, emitting a groan from Harry. She giggled, and sat up on her knees, lifting the covers off of the both of them.

She pulled Harry’s boxers down around his knees, and his prick stood straight up, already dripping precum. She dipped her head, attaching her plump lips to the head of his cock. She swiped her tongue over his slit, and he moaned, gripping her thighs with his hands.

“Fuck baby..keep doin’ tha’...fuck...fuck, if yeh keep doin that i’m gonna cum..” Harry began bucking his hips into Y/n’s hands and mouth. He felt selfish that he might cum before her, or even before he got to pleasure her, but she felt so good.

“No..no, baby girl I don’t wanna cum before you. Nngh...baby..” Though it went against everything his body was telling him, Harry lifted Y/n’s head off of his cock. She looked perplexed, her lips puffy and pink, dripping wet with precum and saliva.

In a matter of seconds Harry had her flipped onto her back, and he loomed above her. He kissed her mouth sweetly, and mumbled “I wan’ yeh to cum before me..” against her lips, making Y/n’s heart flutter. He then moved down to her other pair of lips and slid her lacey pink undies off, and threw them across the room.

He used his large hands to gently but quickly spread Y/ns legs apart, and bent down to slide his tongue along her slit. She shivered, legs closing shut by accident. He hummed, coaxing them apart once more, this time sticking his tongue fully into her dripping hole. She moaned, back arching off the bed.

He pulled away suddenly, which drew a whine from the back of Y/n’s throat. He bent over the side of the bed, opening a drawer to grab something. That something- Y/n realized quickly- was a vibrator. She squealed in excitement, which made Harry chuckle.

“Can’t wait, can yeh, baby girl?” He said, voice deep. Y/n giggled, hands sliding up and down Harry’s muscular arms.

He dipped his head down, sweetly kissing Y/ns clit before sliding his tongue into her. She gasped, moaning slightly. Harry clicked on the vibrator to the highest setting, but only let it drag lightly against the girl’s clit for a few seconds.

“Mm..Harry please- god, you feel so good- oh GOD” Her senses went into overdrive as Harry pressed the vibrator firmly against her clit, his tongue still deep inside of her.

“Oh my god, please- I’m gonna- oh my god, Harry oh my god-” She was babbling at this point, unable to form any coherent sentences together.

Harry hummed against her heat, feeling himself absentmindedly pressing his hard cock into the mattress below.

Y/n’s hand found Harry’s freehand, and gripped onto it tightly as she felt unable to keep herself from letting go any longer.

“Harry, Harry I’m gonna cum- I can’t- I’m gonna cum I’m gonna-”She cut herself off mid sentence with a long moan. Her legs shook as she came all over Harry’s face.

Said man felt the ball of pleasure in his stomach tighten as he fastened the pace of his humping on the mattress, and grunted against Y/Ns heat as she was still riding out her high. Harry became anamalistic whenever he was close to finishing, and it didn’t matter where he was when it was happening.

He pulled his now slick face away from Y/n, his lips parted in a moan. Y/n watched in adoration as her boyfriend reached his high.She knew he was in a haze in that moment, unaware of what was really happening, and she knew he would be embarrassed afterwards, but she didn’t care.

She cradled his head in her hand, and his hips moved ever so fast against the sheets. Suddenly they faltered,and a long moan escaped Harry’s lips as he spilled buckets of cum onto the sheets below him. He collapsed in exhaustion, head falling against her thigh,and he let out a long sigh. She continued to stroke her fingers through his curls, coaxing him into a peaceful slumber against her upper leg.

She would clean up the mess later, for now, they both needed their beauty sleep.

———————

edit: HOLY SHIT thank u guys for all the likes in like less than a day!! y’all are some horny mfs....but so am i

#harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles #harry styles fanfic

[whenimaunicorn]

Playing House - Part 3.1

I am working more slowly than I used to, so I decided to split the planned chapter to appease someone’s thirst *cough* @equalstrashflavoredtrash *cough*

Previous installments here - the Reader is living with Ivar and Ubbe for free, in exchange for doing all the chores. She’s a kinky little girl who’s sincerely hoping one of them will take advantage of the scenario in more interesting ways…

Here’s more burning burn, now with actual physical contact not through a beer bottle!

It’s time. It’s not like you to take the initiative in these things, but after that little scene in the garden, you just can’t play the waiting game any longer. Ivar and Ubbe have been treating you with nothing but respect, sticking to the terms of your agreement, and all it’s done is make you ache for someone to finally take advantage of you.

Neither of them is going to cross the line unless you give a clearer signal. You’re sure of that now. Everyone has retreated to their own rooms for the evening, and while you’re longing for Ivar to burst into your room and continue the scene he started out in the garden, he’s been acting like nothing happened since Ubbe came home and you can’t bear to just wait for the stars to align again.

But, Ivar gave you the means for signaling you wanted to play, didn’t he? Right after you moved in. The French maid dress still hangs in a position of honor in your closet. You’re gazing at it now, while your skin still tingles at the memory of Ivar holding your hip while pressing his icy-cold bottle between your thighs. Imagining the weighty gaze he’d give you if you walked into his room wearing this, now. There’s no way things wouldn’t escalate.

Your limbs begin to tremble with anticipation as you strip off your shorts and shirt. You find black lacey underwear that match the style of the dress in your drawer, and your breath seems to be coming a little fast as you change into the lingerie. Your body already feels different as you stride across the room from dresser to closet. You’re floating, sailing, and you pause for just a moment as you catch sight of yourself in your full-length mirror. You look good. You strike a pose like an underwear model, making yourself giggle. Just wait until Ivar gets a load of this.

The maid costume is smooth and silky against your skin. Ivar did not buy something cheap. It’s comfortable; even the stiff taffeta of the petticoat has no scratchy seams, and the constriction of its tight waist feels erotic. The skirt barely reaches the middle of your thighs, but that just means the view is going to be pornographic when you bend over… you step to the mirror to check.

Bending at the waist, imagining you’re leaning down to pick up an errant sock, you take a look at the long line of your legs. The skirt puffs up, framing your ass in white ruffled fluff, exposing the strip of black lingerie between. Perfect.

It’s not like you haven’t thought about doing this earlier. You even had gone so far as to buy matching stockings for the outfit, white thigh-highs that are actually loose enough around the top to stay up without pinching, and a garter belt in case they didn’t.

You weren’t certain about the garter belt, but now that you have the dress on you see that it completes the look. You fumble with all the straps and fasteners until you finally get it set right. You wonder if Ivar has already gone to sleep in all the time it’s taking you to get your plan set up, but you’re committed now. This is happening.

The heels that match the dress are higher than you would wear to go out, but perfect for slow, sultry steps around the house. You hear movement through the wall to Ivar’s room, so you know he’s up. A flush of nerves paralyzes you for a moment. Are you really going to do this? How will Ivar react to the sight of you opening his door, dressed like this?

You’re not sure if you can bear to even imagine making eye contact with him. What if he’s annoyed at the intrusion? What if you read everything wrong, and he’s only weirded out by your attempt to roleplay? What if—oh fuck, what if you roll your ankle in these heels, what if you try to say something sultry about “room service” and stumble over your words instead…

But what if his jaw drops open. What if his eyes burn in that way that only Ivar has, what if a sultry smile spreads over his face and he starts giving you orders. Inventive, increasingly-explicit orders. Your body starts to tingle in the good way again.

You move close to the mirror, inspecting your face. Your lips are especially flush and full already, just from the anticipation. You decide you don’t even need more makeup. You feel beautiful, and hope that Ivar will see you the same way.

Your heart pounds when you step to the door, finally ready to make your move. Your plan is to grab a bucket and a rag, step into Ivar’s room, and declare your intention to clean. Then, just see what happens next. How could he not try something when you’re dressed like this, bent over just inches away from him.

The click of your doorknob sounds loud as you step out into the hallway. For some reason you’re petrified that Ivar will exit his room at the same time, and catch sight of you before you’ve begun your little act. You slip across the hall to the bathroom to grab the cleaning supplies.

When you come back out into the hallway, Ubbe is there, on his way from the kitchen to his bedroom. He stops short at the sight of you, wide eyes traveling up and down your costumed body. He purrs your name with a note of wonder in his voice.

“Ubbe,” you nod, feeling a little bit awkward, and delightfully exposed, under his gaze.

The bag of chips in his hand makes a loud crinkling sound as he tightens his grip. “Doing some cleaning?”

You look down, spreading out the frilly hem of your skirt a little. “That is what the uniform is for.”

“Is it.” He leans in toward you, body straightening and relaxing both at once.

Ubbe’s eyes are gleaming but it was Ivar’s hands that had worked you up to this moment; Ivar’s devious mind, Ivar’s boldness. You find that you don’t want his handsome older brother to derail you. “Yes, I was just going to go work in Ivar’s bedroom.”

Disappointment definitely touches Ubbe’s eyes. “Oh.”

You can’t resist the urge to tease as you slide past him in the narrow hallway. “Maybe I’ll come do yours next.”

You’re close enough to just about feel the rumble in Ubbe’s chest as he makes an agreeable noise. “Or you could come now.” He takes one backwards step, toward his own room.

It’s tempting. But not as tempting as the cool command you saw in Ivar’s eyes in the garden. Ubbe’s probably capable of ordering you around the way you like, but Ivar’s the one who’s shown you dominance. You’re sticking to the original plan. “I’ve been around you guys long enough to know how things work,” you say, shaking your head while you smile. “Ivar always gets what he wants.” You reach beside you for the door handle, knowing Ubbe’s just going to stand there, keep trying, until you make a dramatic exit. So much for pulling your poise together privately before knocking on Ivar’s door.

The latch clicks, and with just a little push the door falls inward. You hope your silhouette in the door looks dramatic enough. You turn away from Ubbe and find that you can’t spare him another thought.

Ivar is sitting at his computer desk. The dim lighting casts dramatic shadows on his sharp jaw and hooded eyes. His white undershirt clings to the muscles of his chest. “What was that about?” he asks before turning his head, evidently having heard at least the last part of the conversation outside his door. When he does look up, the last syllable of the question dies on his tongue. He gazes up at you, all pretense fading out of his face as his eyes widen and fill with appreciation. He doesn’t smirk, doesn’t look you up and down like Ubbe did. He seems to lose all awareness of himself at all, focusing in only on the sight before him.

You step inside with dainty, spike-heeled steps clicking on the wood floor. You shut the door behind you. “Housekeeping,” you smirk. You set the water-filled bucket down beside the wall, bending your knees with a coy little twist to your body. “Just here to do my job.”

Now a masculine sort of smile starts spreading over Ivar’s face, and his eyes drift a little over your form as he recovers himself. “Very good.” He tears his gaze from you just before the silence gets awkward, looking at the mess around the room. “I have been letting things get neglected.”

Something about his words flushes your face as you move to pick up the little piles of discarded pants and socks. You move slowly, bending gracefully, coyly, and fling a few things into the laundry basket before daring to glance over your shoulder to see his reaction.

He’s not even looking at you. His face is turned back to his computer screen. Your heart sinks. Then you hear the music change, to something with a deeper, slow beat. Something much sexier. The next time you glance up at Ivar his eyes are riveted, tearing from the back of your legs to your face as you turn. “Do you like wearing this uniform?” His words are slow, strong, deliberate. Like the way he had talked to you outside.

You have to swallow before you can speak. “Yes, Ivar.”

Satisfaction spreads across his face at your submissive tone. His eyes follow the lines of your little white apron.

“Do… do you like me wearing it?”

His smile is rich, slow, gloating. “Yes. It’s even better than I imagined.”

Warmth spreads through your chest. Ivar was imagining you in this outfit. What else had he been dreaming of? You smooth your hand along your waist, down the short length of the skirt. Hoping to entice him to reach out to you. “It’s so silky, too. Feels wonderful.”

His hand moves a few inches, then he curls his fingers in, retracting it. “The laundry basket is full. Will you take it out?”

You’re not sure if it’s an order or a question, his voice was soft and dreamy as the look on his face. “Of course.”

You turn to the basket, making sure your hips are aimed squarely at Ivar as you bend at the waist to pick it up. You know from your experiment with the mirror just exactly what kind of view he’s getting. Was that a soft groan that you heard behind you?

The basket is pretty heavy. It’s a little awkward to manage it on the spike heels you’re rocking, but you get it up in two hands, turning to face him and move toward the door.

Ivar has recovered his poise again, face looking mischievous now. “Wait, one more.” He crosses his arms at the waist and pulls up the hem of his little white tee. The tip of his tongue protruding between full lips, he whips the shirt off over his head in one smooth motion. A few long strands come loose from his hair-tie with it, drifting down to frame his face.

You step toward him, willing your legs not to shake, so he can drop the shirt in the basket. Something in his eyes captivates you and you freeze where you are, all your weight on your right leg, the left crossed behind you.

His fingers brush the back of your thigh, just above the lace top of the stockings, and you jump in surprise. “Careful,” he teases. “Don’t drop anything.”

That tongue. It’s sticking out again, locked between his bright little teeth, as Ivar’s fingers ghost along your upper thighs. “I like that you added this,” he comments, pressing a finger under the garter strap clipped to the back of the stocking. He flicks it, making it snap a little against your butt. You wobble again, because you still haven’t shifted your weight to a steadier stance.

“Thank you, Ivar,” you breathe.

His touch grows bolder, his whole palm, so warm, so strong, sliding along the sensitive skin framed inside the garter line. His fingers contact the lace edge of your cheeky panties and his eyebrows jump. Your body is on fire. You’re not sure if you’ve ever felt this turned on before. And then he smacks you, right on the butt under your fluffy skirt, and nods his head toward the door. “Alright, you can get back to work now.”

Your head is spinning. There is nothing to do but obey. The basket is heavy in your arms, and he had asked you to take it out. He can’t have meant he wanted you to go down to the communal laundry room shared by every tenant in the building, not right now, dressed like this… But you can at least go put it by the front door for later.

The doorknob is a little awkward to manage with your hands full, and when you cast an embarrassed glance at Ivar you see that he is enjoying watching you struggle. Sexy bastard. You add a little extra flounce to your skirt as you step around the door and into the hallway.

Your heart is pounding in your chest as your heels clack on the wood floor in purposeful strides, past the kitchen to your left and living room to your right. You bend to set the basket near the door. Only as you’re turning back do you realize that Ubbe’s sitting on the couch in the dark room behind you, sprawled comfortable in basketball shorts and clutching a beer bottle by the neck, and he must have gotten almost as good a view up your skirt as Ivar just had.

On to Part 3.2

Taglist is open: @walkxthexmoon   @swagmonstertoes @hanhanxx @perfectus-in-morte @xxdearlybeloved@littledeadrottinghood @persephone-is-here-omg @rekdreams247 @what-the-heart-desires @inforapound @creepshowzombae @tomarisela @vladsgirl@youbloodymadgenius @walkxthexmoon@funmadnessandbadassvikings @trashqueenbitch @justlovelifeblog @earl-aive @supernaturalvikingwhore @equalstrashflavoredtrash @that-was-not-supposed-to-happen @ceridwenofwales @grungyblonde @pokeasleepingsmaug @hvittysmutanon @honestsycrets @wuxiesalt @thorins-queen-of-erebor @writingfromasgard

#ivar imagine #ivar/reader #ivar/you #ivar the boneless #vikings fanfic #vikings modern au #college au

[ganglylimbs]

Light of My Life

Fandom: My Hero Academia 

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou/Eijirou Kirishima

Summary: Bakugou is the Sun and Kirishima is the Dragon that chases him from the sky.

Warnings: Smut, mythology au, dragon Kirishima, Sun God Bakugou, bottom Bakugou, top Kirishima, thigh fucking, cum inflation, breeding kink, overstimulation. 

Notes: Written for a friend. This is a half baked mythology au. Basically, there are four rotations to the sky cycle: Day, Sun Set, Night, Sun Rise. Bakugou is the Sun God (Day) and Midoriya is the Moon God (Night). Kirishima and Todoroki are dragons that "chase" them from the sky; Kirishima chases Bakugou (Sun Set) signalling the shift from Day to Night. Todoroki chases Midoriya (Sun Rise) which signals the shift from Night to Day.You don't really need to know all of that because this is just smut, but I thought it was fun to think about.

Bakugou watches the world below him from his throne, bored and irritated. He taps his fingers against the golden stone, teeth-gritting as his pure white robes swish with the movement, his jewelry jingling.

Normally, he watches with amusement as humans work their lives away beneath his Sun, sweating, their skin burning. And still, they worship him, they dance for him, they play for him. All wanting his attention.

As they should.

But, his work is coming to an end for the day. He can feel Midoriya getting closer, can see the edges of the rising Moon, can feel his power wane and his body grow colder. He is ready to go home.

If only that annoying Hair-For-Brains would hurry his fucking ass up-

There. Bakugou sits straighter as a roar fills the air, shaking the clouds and thundering through his veins.

Kirishima, in his dragon form, flies towards him, mouth opened in a snarl to show off his rows and rows of teeth. For a moment, just a brief moment, Bakugou’s breath catches. The dragon is huge, just walls of muscles built upon muscles. His wings spread out, covering the sky, sharp and strong. His red scales glint in Bakugou’s light. Red like rubies. Red like blood.

Red like the flames that burn through Bakugou’s veins as he stands and readies himself.

Kirishima doesn’t slow his descent as he dives towards Bakugou. Bakugou waits till the last second before dogging out of the way, sending a blast of his magic right at Kirishima’s head. It won’t hurt the beast, it never does, but it sends him sideways, giving Bakugou time to run.

His strides are long, powerful legs taking him over miles of sky. He can feel Kirishima behind him, feel the touch of his fire, his warm breath shifting over his skin, can feel the thunder beat of his heart. Claws desperately grab at his robes, just missing each time.  

Bakugou’s house is right ahead, large and overbearing, golden and forbidden. If he touches it, Kirishima won’t be able to have him.

He does not make it.

Kirishima tackles him, large claws wrapped around his waist as he brings the God down. His tail wraps around Bakugou’s legs, his large body pinning the other.

Bakugou is trapped.

He pushes his hands against Kirishima’s chest, magic bursting from his palms and though Kirishima throws his head back to scream, he does not let go.

Instead, Kirishima bends down, sinking teeth into Bakugou’s shoulder. Bakugou lets out a small cry, body shivering as his arms go limp at his side. He has been caught. The Sun has been set and now it’s the Moon’s turn to shine.

Kirishima lifts his head, his slitted eyes staring down at Bakugou. He gives the God a toothy grin and Bakugou huffs. He pushes at Kirishima’s head, shoving him away.

“Don’t get all smug. I let you fucking catch me.”

There’s a pause and then Kirishima’s body is shimmering, breaking into a million lights before piercing back together to form a more human body. He’s still big, taller and larger than Bakugou and his teeth are still sharp. But his skin is warm and soft to the touch, littered with scars from past battles.

Bakugou’s fingers itch to trace them.

“That’s what you say every time,” Kirishima says, voice a low rumble.  He nudges his face against Bakugou, a purr rumbling in his throat. His hands rest against Bakugou’s waist again, though this time he digs his fingers in, smile widening at the gasp Bakugou lets out.

“That’s because if I didn’t, you would never catch me,” Bakugou huffs, turning his head away. Even though the sky has turned dark now, his body still glows, the jewelry he wears catching in the light.

It draws Kirishima’s eye, one long talon tracing over them. From the silver circet that circles his head, beads of metal dangling down and around his ear, to the anklet that was given to him by the Mother. Slowly, Kirishima lifts the leg up, kissing the skin by the small piece of jewelry, red eyes staring into Bakugou’s.

Bakugou swallows, shoulders hunching at the adoring look in the dragon’s eyes. His cheeks redden, still unused to the way Kirishima can so openly display affection, even after all these years.

Kirishima coos at him, before pulling at the necklace hanging against his broad chest.

It’s dainty and lacey, fine like spider silk and not something that Kirishima usually prefers to wear. That’s ok because it’s not for him. With pure wonder, he hangs the necklace around Bakugou’s neck, watching it intermingle with all the others he had gifted the God.

“Beautiful,” he breathes.

Bakugou flushes, fists clenching. “I’m not,” he instantly denies. He’s powerful and aggressive and dangerous, could destroy everything in his path if he so desired. He’s not...he’s not beautiful or loving.

But Kirishima, long used to this argument of theirs, ignores Bakugou’s words. Instead, he goes back to rubbing Bakugou’s legs, pushing the robes to the side to get at the smooth skin. He kisses his way up, making sure to undress Bakugou along the way.

He keeps the jewelry on. He always does.

He reaches Bakugou’s thighs, biting into the thick flesh there, leaving marks and bruises along the way. Bakugou throws his head back, breath leaving him in a shudder that racks his body. He spreads his legs wider, fingers twinning in red hair to pull sharply as Kirishima bites hard enough to draw golden blood.

“Fucking ouch.”

“Shush,” Kirishima says, even as he rubs his thumb along the mark. “You love when I rough you up.”

Bakugou narrows his eyes, lifting his leg up to kick at Kirishima. “Shut the fuck up.”

Kirishima grabs Bakugou’s leg. Bakugou takes the chance to grab his shoulders, legs tightening around him as he flips the two. He grins, feral and wide, from where he straddles Kirishima’s waist. “Can’t even keep me pinned? Have you really caught your bride? Maybe I should just waltz into my house since you can’t do your job.”

Kirishima growls, and then he’s thrusting up, dick pressing against Bakugou’s ass. Bakugou gasps, eyes fluttering. Kirishima doesn’t wear clothes, they just tear whenever he shifts, so Bakugou gets the full force of that large dick rubbing up against him. It’s already half-hard, making him drool.

Kirishima grabs his robe, dragging the God down into a kiss. It’s rough and demanding, Kirishima forcing Bakugou to follow his lead. His hands aren’t idle, slipping Bakugou’s robes off his shoulders.

Bakugou can’t help the way his body shivers, nipples perking up as the cold metal hits his skin. Kirishima’s hungry gaze is drawn to them, one hand reaching up to give them a pinch. Bakugou whines, pressing his chest closer. Kirishima smirks into their kiss.

He breaks the kiss, leaving Bakugou panting, and trails his lips down Bakugou’s neck. “Looks like I can satisfy my bride after all.”

Bakugou huffs, going to say something, but chokes on his words as Kirishima gropes his ass.

Kirishima takes the chance, flipping them again. He leans over Bakugou, licking his lips at the sight below him. He disrobes the God the rest of the way, ripping away the light material. It’s not like Bakuoug couldn’t just conjure up another if he wanted to anyway. Kirishima is too busy admiring all that pale skin, glowing from power within. Jewelry covers most of his body, all golden and silver, and it makes Bakugou look like the treasure he is.

It makes Kirishima purr, to see Bakugou covered in his gifts, to see that Bakugou has kept them, proof that not only does Bakugou accept him as his mate, but that he continues to accept him.

“Tch, are you going to actually do anything or are you just going to stare at me.” Bakugou’s voice breaks through the haze, making him blink.

Kirishima smirks, showing off all his teeth, picking up the way Bakugou’s breath hitches. “I’m just savoring my meal.” He doesn’t give Bakugou the chance to retort, instead leaning down to suck one of those perky nipples into his mouth. Bakugou arches into his mouth, a moan falling out of his mouth. His other hand reaches down, lightly brushing past Bakugou’s hard cock, cooing at the way it jerks with precum, and instead reaches down to play with his hole.

He traces the rim with the tip of his finger and bites down on Bakugou’s tit, loving the way Bakugou curses and thrusts up into his touch. “Come on, baby, let those pretty noises out. Let me hear you.” He pushes his finger in, all the way up to the knuckle.

“Fu-fuck,” Bakugou moans out, face completely red. He spreads his legs wider, allowing Kirishima to slot in closer. Kirishima works quickly, thrusting his finger in and out, twisting it to get more noises from his mate. When Bakugou is whining and pushing his hips back against him, he adds another finger.

Bakugou truly doesn’t need this. He’s a God, can take anything Kirishima could give him, something that often makes Kirishima whisper that he was made for him. But Kirishima loves to make the other whither on his fingers, make that cute little hole stretched around for him in a mockery of what will happen later.

So he keeps thrusting his fingers in, up to three and then four, milking Bakugou’s prostate. He kisses those bitten red nipples, eyes glancing up. Bakugou stares back, his bottom lip in between his teeth, tears at the corners of his eyes. He’s panting, chest heaving, and cock bobbing against his hard abs.

He’s so fucking pretty and Kirishima wants to ruin him.

His fingers go faster, pressing in deeper, as he bites at Bakugou’s neck, at his collarbones, at his shoulders. Bakugou is clutching at him, Kirishima’s true name falling freely from his pink lips. Kirishima is so hard, can’t wait to bury himself inside of his bride. To fuck him senseless, till the only thing he wants to say is “Faster, Eijirou, harder. Cum in me, please.”

But first, he has to make his mate cum.

He leans back a little, slipping his fingers out and rearranging them. Bakugou’s eyebrows furrow as he leans up on his elbows. “What the fuck are you doi-ohhh fuck.”

Kirishima grins, moving his hips again. His dick, now trapped between Bakugou’s perfect thighs, slides back and forth, the thick head nudging Bakugou’s balls.

Bakugou leans back his head, gasping. “Fuck, Eijirou, really?”

“Of course, my mate. Every part of you is so fuckable. If I didn’t love filling you with my seed, I would cover you with cum instead.” He looks up into Bakugou’s eyes as his hand wraps around Bakugou’s cock, lightly stroking. “I guess I’ll just have to settle with seeing you covered with your own cum.”

Bakugou’s face burns with his blush as he stutters out curse words. “Don’t-don’t fucking talk like that, Shitty Scales.”

“Why?” Kirishima asks. He jerks Bakugou off faster. “It kind of looks like you get off on it. Your dick is twitching so much in my hands.” His hips are thrusting faster, eyes glued to the way his dick leaks between pale thighs, how it makes Bakugou’s body jerk with every thrust. “Is it because you get off on me claiming you? Or because you know this is what I’m going to do to your little hole later, fuck it just like I’m fucking your thighs.”

Bakugou grits his teeth, stomach twisting with pleasure at those words. He can’t deny that his cock is leaking, pre-cum dripping freely. He knows he’s close, Kirishima pushing him closer to the edge with every jerk of his wrist or thrust of his dick against Bakugou’s balls. The heat grows as he feels the beginning of Kirishima’s knot bumping up against his thighs. There is no way to stop the incoming storm that is his orgasm.

With wide eyes and an open mouth, Bakugou shouts his pleasure into the sky, cum splattering against his stomach. Kirishima doesn’t stop stroking him or thrusting, not till fat tears of overstimulation slide down Bakugou’s cheeks.

“Eijirou, Ejiirou.”

Kirishima slows, giving one last long stroke of his limp dick, squeezing the last bit of cum out, before he lets go. He crawls over his mate’s panting body, kissing his temple as his hands run soothing movements up and down his side. “Pretty mate, my wonderful treasure, you please me so much.”

Bakugou shudders at the praise, fingers digging into Kirishima’s shoulder to bring the other closer as he mouths at Kirishima’s ear. His body is still slowly going through aftershocks as Kirishima slowly turns him so he’s on his knees, ass up with his chest pressed against the clouds. He whines as Kirishima crawls over him, teeth pressing against the back of his neck as Kirishima’s large cock pressed against his hole.

“Will you continue to be good for me? Let me knot you?”

Bakugou hastily nods, even as his body trembled from exhaustion. But it’s worth it when he feels Kirishima press a smile into his skin.

That large cock presses in, flared tip opening up Bakugou as Kirishima doesn’t stop moving till he’s balls deep inside his mate. Bakugou’s eyes roll into his head as his body struggles to accommodate such a large dick, every inch of him being filled up.  Kirishima’s large hands grip Bakugou’s waist and he growls in Bakugou’s ear, every inch of him desperate to begin pounding into his treasure.

He waits for the slight nod Bakugou gives though. And then he falls into his instincts.

His thrusts are rough and brutal, hips slapping hard against Bakugou’s ass. Bakugou gasps and whines, hands gripping Kirishima’s, his body shaking. If he could, he would get hard again in an instant. But for the moment, he doesn’t care about that, instead just focusing on the way his body clenches around Kirishima’s cock.

Kirishima is drooling, teeth snapping at the air, thrust being spurred on by the musical sound of metal jingling and his mate’s sounds of pleasure. His hand on Bakugou’s waist pulls the God closer, dick pushing in even deeper.

His voice is a rumble as he begins to ramble. “Going to knot you good, going to fill you with my cum, going to keep you on my cock like the good boy you are. Fuck, Katsuki, do you have any idea how good you feel? How good you sound?”

“Ei-Ei, please, I can’t.”

Kirishima growls again, the sound vibrating through his chest. “You can , and you will .” His balls slap against Bakugou, reddening that plush ass. “Going to take my fucking knot. Going to take all my seed. Won’t you?”

Bakugou sniffs, hiding his face in his arms. A slap on his ass startles a moan out of him. “Fuck. Yes. Yeah, Eijirou. I’m going to take your knot. Going to take your seed.”

Kirishima starts thrusting faster, his knot bumping up against Bakugou’s rim. “Yes, you will. And maybe this time, Mother will bless us with children.”

Bakugou’s breath hitches.

“You want that, huh? Do you want my children in your body? Maybe I should keep my seed in you till they start to grow. Just keep adding more and more, make you round either with my cum or my children.”

Bakugou’s face is flushed, eyes fluttering. “I-I-” The knot ramming into him and then popping out cuts him off, teeth clattering together.

“What do you think the others would say?” Kirishima whispers. “If instead of your throne, you sat on my cock as you worked?”

Bakugou claws at the ground. Kirishima is actively fucking him with his knot now, roughly stretching him open as it pushes in and out. “Please, Eijirou. Please, need your knot, just knot me, come on, knot me knot me knot me-”

Kirishima bites his shoulder, a roar bubbling out of his throat and fire licking at Bakugou’s skin as the knot pops back in- and stays in this time, growing too big to pop out. It locks them together. He doesn’t stop rutting, his dick big enough to continually pressing up against Bakugou’s prostate. His cock, half-hard now, jerks and Bakugou whines a bit in pain.

None of that matters though as Kirishima begins to cum, long and hard and burning hot, filling Bakugou for long moments at a time.

Bakugou grinds back on it, working himself hard again as his mate’s dick continues to throb. Kirishima isn’t in the right mind to help, too focused on breeding his mate, so instead, he wiggles a hand beneath his body, lightly stroking himself. He isn’t in any hurry to get himself off again. He knows from experience that they are going to be here for a while (on particular nights when Kirishima is really wound up, he knows that they could be here till it’s time to Rise again).

Kirishima is still mumbling about breeding his treasure, how fat he’s going to make Bakugou, as he grinds his knot against Bakugou’s rim, cum still coming in long ropes. Bakugou gives a droopy little grin, pinching the top of his dick.

It’s safe to say, his favorite part of the day is when the Sun Sets.

#kiribaku #smuttish #katsuki bakugou #eijirou kirishima #super hero kids #super power kids

[timelordthirteen]

Some Other Time - Part 6/7

Mr. Gold/Lacey French, Explicit

Summary: College student Lacey dumps her boyfriend and needs a new apartment, it just so happens her professor, Dr. Gold, has a room to rent.

Chapter Summary: Lacey plans a sexy surprise for Gold, but her plans get derailed by another surprise. (Takes place immediately after the last chapter.)

Notes: Welcome to Suckville, population me. I failed my 31 Days event, but I'm still going to get the remaining fics done and give everything I started its ending. I have barely read this over. Sorry for all the mistakes. For the 31 Days of Fandomas prompt #29 - Green.

[AO3]

Lacey hurried up the stairs, stepping lightly on her toes so Gold wouldn’t know what she was doing.

The stairs went up over his home office, and she suspected if he was anywhere, he was hiding from here in there. That would work just fine for her plans, maybe even better. She’d fantasized about the fluffy rug in front of the fireplace that room a fair bit, how it might feel on her bare skin as Gold laid her out on it, the patterns it would leave on her skin if she knelt on it while she sucked his cock.

Grinning, she whisked open the door to her little apartment, breezed around the partition to her bedroom space, and flipped open the box from Exotic Wonders. Her eyes roamed over the lingerie again, and she bit her lip as her stomach fluttered and flipped. This might be a complete mad, stupid, insane idea, but at least Gold would know she wanted him in no uncertain terms. If he felt the same, well, there was no time like the present.

Especially when she’d be wrapped up like a present.

Lacey giggled to herself and started to undress, pulling her shirt over head and dropping it on the top of the hamper, already filled to the brim with dirty clothes. She shucked her jeans and underwear, and then picked up the bra from the box, spinning around to face the floor length mirror propped up against the wall.

She pulled the straps up her shoulders and eyed her reflection, turning one way and then the other. The cups were small and cut low across her breasts, which both suited her petite chest, and let teased a glimpse of her nipples. She licked her lips and felt the little buds harden with arousal and anticipation. The panties were next, a barely there thong that made her blush with how skimpy and dainty it was.

The garter belt should come next, but she decided to forgo it this time. She didn’t want to have to deal with removing it if Gold was as pleased with what he saw as she hoped. So she rolled the stockings up her legs, pressing the silicone strips flat against her skin so they would hold and stay up. She looked herself up and down, trying not to be too critical. Her hips and backside weren’t getting any smaller, but everything seemed to fit well.

For a finishing touch, Lacey put on a dark green silk robe that just came to mid thigh. She looped the belt at her waist, tying it loosely, and pulled open the top to expose the lacy edge of her bra. She was the picture of sex, every inch of her outfit screaming tear me off and fuck me. A shiver washed over her and she pressed her legs together as warmth pooled in her core.

She blew out a breath, trying to calm the flutter in her belly, and slipped on a pair of four inch, shiny black heels. She left her apartment, and moved quickly down the hall, to the top of the stairs, trying to enact her plan before she lost her nerve. As she started down the first set of steps, the doorbell rang out, and she halted, wobbling a bit on her heels as she held fast to the railing on either side. She expected to hear Gold coming to answer the door, but a second later, the lock rattled.

Lacey’s eyes went wide as the door opened, and she started backing up the stairs. Just as she reached the top step, stumbling over it in her haste to be out of sight, she looked back over her shoulder to see a young man with a wavy mop of hair and a hoodie. Her heels thudded loudly on the hallway rug as she ducked into the hall bath and eased the door partially closed, cursing her impulsiveness.

“Papa!” Neal Gold called out, letting the front door shut behind him. “I’m home!”

He heard a noise and looked towards the stairs, catching a glimpse of a woman in heels and something green duck around the door. He frowned, and set his duffel bag down, just as his father came into the foyer.

“Neal,” Gold said, smiling widely. “What on Earth…? I wasn’t expecting to see you until the New Year.”

Neal grinned and opened his arms for a hug. “Didn’t you get my text message?”

Gold pulled back, his hands still on his son’s shoulders, and shook his head. “I - I don’t think I’ve looked at my phone since last night.”

Neal huffed and rolled his eyes. “I should have known.”

“Sorry,” Gold said, stepping back. “So, how long are you staying?”

Neal shrugged and picked up his bag. “Just until Emma gets here, if you’ll have me.”

“Of course I will!” Gold said, giving him a look. “What about Emma?”

“Uh, she’s in Boston to see her old foster mom,” he replied, rubbing the back of his neck. “But she’s gonna come up in a couple of days. Is that cool?”

Gold nodded. “Of course, of course. Though I’m afraid the attic space I renovated for you is, uh, taken at the moment.”

“Oh yeah?” Neal said, smiling crookedly. “That have anything to do with the hot pair of legs I saw running up the stairs?”

“The what?” Gold paled. Lacey, it had to be, but what she was doing running up the stairs he had no idea. His mind flashed to the lingerie he’d found earlier, and he shook his head again. “Um, you mean Lacey?”

Neal grinned widely. “Oh...that was Lacey?” He clapped his father on the shoulder. “Lacey that you couldn’t stop talking about when you came down to visit last summer? Lacey who is totally brilliant, by your own words, and from what little I saw, gorgeous? That Lacey?”

Gold blushed and wished he could go back to his office and his whiskey. “Uh...yeah. She’s, uh, she’s renting the space. Needed to save money.”

Neal snorted and raised his eyebrows. “And she came to you? The stingiest landlord in - oof...”

Gold shot his son a glare and pushed him towards the stairs. “That’s enough out of you.”

Neal laughed. “Where am I bunking?”

“You can take your old bedroom,” he said, following his son up the steps and to the first bedroom on the left. “Is Emma going to stay here as well?”

“Since the attic is taken, I might see if Granny has any open rooms.” Neal tossed his duffel on the bed and sat down.

“I’m sure she does.” Then he frowned. “I am going to get to meet Emma, right?”

“Yes, I promised her she’d get to meet you, so I’ll have two people kicking my ass if I don’t.” Neal grinned laid back on the bed and folded his arms under his head. “So...is Lacey the reason this place looks so festive? And that you seem to be in such a good mood?”

Gold gave him a flat look and folded his arms. “What’s your point?”

His son shrugged. “Just that you’ve had a crush on her for like two years, and now she’s basically living with you.”

“I have not -” Gold stopped at the look on his son’s face and sighed. “Look it’s not like that. She’s a - a student, and - and a friend. That’s it.”

“Mmhmm,” was Neal’s reply. “You sure about that?”

“No,” he replied, half laughing. “But that’s as far as it’s going, all right?”

“Well,” Neal said, adjusting the pillow beneath his head. “If you get to meet Emma, then I should get to meet Lacey, right?”

He sagged against the doorframe. “Fine. How about I make dinner for the three of us?”

Neal grinned and then exhaled slowly. “Sounds great, but I need a nap. That was a long drive.”

Gold nodded and backed out of the room, closing the door softly. He looked down the hall towards the door to the attic space, but then turned and walked back downstairs. He needed another glass of whiskey to knock the image of that lingerie out of his head before he could face Lacey.

In the hall bathroom, Lacey’s heart was pounding furiously. Neal had been teasing Gold about his crush - on her - and he hadn’t denied. Her head lolled back and she breathed out. It would figure she’d fall for someone so fucking infuriating, but it seemed like she was right and her feelings might not be entirely one-sided.

She waited until she heard Gold head back down the stairs, and then peeked around the edge of the bathroom door. Neal’s door was still shut, and the coast looked clear, so she scurried back to her room, holding her heels in one hand while the other held down the back of her robe. The last thing she needed was possibly flashing Neal again.

She stripped off her lingerie, being careful to lay it neatly in the box, and then tucked the whole thing under her bed. Her plans for seduction were on hold for now, but at least she’d finally get to meet Neal, and apparently his girlfriend as well. She grinned. It was going to be a nice Christmas after all.

And as soon as it was over, that box was coming back out, and Gold was getting the surprise of his life.

#rumbelle #rumbelle fic #golden lace #golden lace fic #my golden lace fic #some other time #fic #31 days of fandomas #fandomas 2018

[lady-divine-writes]

Klaine fic - “The Prince and His Stable Hand: Chapter 1 - The Prince’s Stable Hand” (NC17)

Blaine is a prince, betrothed to wed the Princess Rachel Berry, but he has secret desires that his new wife will never be able to fulfill.

But the handsome young man who tends his father's stables definitely can. (4278 words this chapter)

Notes: This is a re-write. I have set it in the vague 1800s, with no real indication of a locale. Historical romance. Warning for Dom/sub, whipping, bondage, and arranged marriage.

Read on AO3.

Blaine stood dutifully in the courtyard and watched Princess Berry’s carriage pull away. The four white stallions at the lead trotted down the winding stone drive, the clacking of their hooves bombarding the still, night air with their rhythmic cadence. A dainty, white-gloved hand waved from within the darkened window, a lace handkerchief clutched between pinched fingers, its owner shrouded by shadows. Blaine didn’t need to see her to visualize her auburn hair spilling down her shoulders, her lightly sun-kissed skin, her deep brown eyes, her baby pink bodice laced so tightly around her petite frame that Blaine feared she might actually have suffered a broken rib or two.

He raised his gloved hand and waved back, the smile plastered on his face growing less and less sincere as the carriage drove farther away toward the black iron gates that surrounded the grounds. Before the carriage reached them, Princess Berry released the handkerchief, leaving it behind as a token for her betrothed. The lacey fabric billowed in the air, floating freely in the wake of the carriage as the team gained speed and bustled away.  The evening breeze caught the handkerchief, swirled it through the air, and then settled it on the lawn. Prince Blaine stared at the thing, a white stain on the lush green grass, his lip curled in disgust.

“Would you like me to fetch that for you, Your Highness?” Sebastian, the captain of the prince’s guard, asked with a smirk.

“I don’t give a fuck,” Blaine muttered, turning angrily from the moonlit scene and storming away.

“Where are you going, Your Highness?” Sebastian called after him, a thinly veiled taunt in his voice. The day spent guarding the awkward couple had been dreadfully dull and long for Sebastian, but it was worth it to watch the prince forced to play nice for that vain and shallow fiancée of his. “What should I tell the king if he asks for you?”

Blaine yanked off his gloves and chucked them one by one over his shoulder.

“If he ever removes his dick from the downstairs maid, you can tell him I’ll see him in hell!” Blaine snapped without slowing his stride.

Sebastian shook his head, watching noble Prince Blaine stomp away like a spoiled child. Sebastian knew he was pushing his luck teasing the prince the way he did, but he possessed more luck than most to push. He and Blaine had been friends since birth. Both nursed by Sebastian’s own mother, they were nearly brothers. Sebastian knew Blaine better than anyone in the kingdom, definitely better than the prince’s parents, which was why, despite all his taunting, his heart broke for Blaine. He saw the prince’s footsteps falter on the cobblestones as he made his way with a purpose toward the stables, and knew the man was holding back sobs … or screams.

Or both.

Sometimes the worst curse in the world could be the circumstances of birth, for rich and poor alike.

Blaine didn’t choose who he was or the way he loved, but the fact of the matter was that Blaine was born a prince. He had duties and responsibilities. He needed to be a role model - a shining example to his kingdom. Those responsibilities included marrying well … and producing an heir.

Sebastian turned to the rest of the complement watching their prince with interest, the scene most assuredly feeding rumors that would circulate like wildfire later in the drunken revelry of the evening. One or two guards even wore the shadows of grins on their faces. Sebastian scowled, and their grins beat a hasty retreat.

“None of you know where the prince is headed, do you?” Sebastian bellowed to the guards. When no one answered, Sebastian repeated loudly, “Do you!?”

“No, sir,” they answered in unison.

“Good,” Sebastian said, knowing in his heart that keeping them quiet through fear only worked for so long. “Keep your mouths shut and you might not be working in the kitchens come morning.”

***

Blaine concentrated on the click of his footsteps on the stones to scrub his mind clean of Rachel Berry - his intended - and her inane chatter. She talked all day long about everything and nothing, rarely giving Blaine’s ears a rest.

“Oh, Your Highness!” she blathered over breakfast. “What an amazing pianoforte you have in the palace! I’m sure I’ll never tire of playing while I’m here. It’s my one true passion!”

“Did I tell you, Prince Blaine?” she jabbered during their walk in the garden after lunch. “I have the most marvelous design for a tabletop that I would love to paint for my sitting room!”

“Does the prince enjoy theater?” she chittered as they took a carriage ride over the grounds. “Oh, I do love the theater. The costumes, the singing - especially the love stories …”

She sat close by his side and put a bold hand on his knee. Then she proceeded to sing from her favorite score. She sang and she quipped and she barely drew a breath. So many times he wished he could scream, ‘Do shut the fuck up!’ Blaine wasn’t ashamed of his indifference toward the girl. He had no intention of leading her on. He was sure that he had made it quite clear on several occasions that this ‘marriage’ was one of no consequence to him. He wasn’t marrying for love.

He had his suspicions that neither was she, she was simply better at masking her displeasure. She might hold some disdain for him, but she stood to benefit a great deal better by their marriage than he, so she had more reason to act cordial. His father could back out of this arrangement at any time.

He could, but Blaine knew he wouldn’t.

The bastard.

Blaine made his way to the stables, pleased to see the windows glowing with lamplight from within, so much warmer and more inviting than a single room in the whole of his palace. He had already undone the buttons to his coat, tearing a few in his haste to be rid of the damned thing. This one in particular fit too tightly around his chest and restricted his breathing, but he was allowed to wear no other - another cage that being royal kept him confined in.

He burst through the door, sighing in relief at the sight of Kurt, pitchfork in hand, laying fresh hay for the horses in their stalls. Through his loose-fitting linen shirt, Blaine could see the muscles in Kurt’s arms shift and stretch, bulging beneath flawless, pale skin. Blaine admired how Kurt kept his skin perfect despite the labor he performed every day. Though Blaine would rather see him stationed in the palace, sleeping on a bed of feathers instead of a humble mattress of hay, covered in satins and silks, and bathed perfumes, within a stone’s throw of the prince’s own bedroom.

But then they might not be able to do what Blaine had come here for.

“Why does it always reek of horse shit in here?” Blaine asked to announce his presence.

“Because this is a stable, Your Highness. It’s full of horses and their shit.”

Kurt did not turn from his work, but spied the prince loosening the collar of his shirt from the corner of his eye, and nibbled his lower lip in secret. But from Blaine’s perspective, Kurt continued on as if he weren’t there, effectively ignoring the prince and his mounting frustrations.

“Well, do you think you could cease shoveling and spare a moment for me?”

“A moment with you will turn into the entire evening, sire.” Kurt chuckled. “Let me get these poor animals fed so I can take my time with you.”

Blaine pushed past Kurt and headed for the rear of the stable, straight to Kurt’s quarters.

“Eager tonight, aren’t we?” Kurt prodded. “But that will not hurry me along, I’m afraid.” He heard the prince curse underneath his breath and chuckled. He had no desire to incur the prince’s ire, but he liked taking advantage of the fact that here, in this stable, where he had total control, he had permission to treat his prince so familiar. Besides, he caught a glimpse of the prince’s ‘playdate’ with the Princess Berry. Kurt knew very well the prince’s pain.

He carried it as well.

Kurt gave the broodmare in the stall an extra helping of oats and patted her on the back. She would foal soon, and it made Kurt’s chest tighten with bittersweet hopes and dreams, each one fracturing a bit every day that the prince’s wedding drew near. Horses had such simple lives. They lived in the stables and galloped in the yards, their every need provided for. They ran where their wills took them, and they fucked where they pleased. In the stable of the king, the horses were neither traded nor sold, and his favorites, cared for by Kurt, never went to war. How wonderful it would be to live out his life as a horse, Kurt thought.

Then he rolled his eyes at his own foolishness.

He followed the prince to his room and saw him struggling with his clothes. He managed to tear off the coat and toss it on Kurt’s bed, but the shirt, along with the corset underneath, was giving him some trouble.

“Could we just get this started?” Blaine growled, nearly ripping off the uncooperative garments. Kurt caught the shirt when it finally slipped from Blaine’s shoulders and hung it along with the coat on a dull hook in the corner. Then he helped Blaine remove the corset. He loosened one lace at a time slowly so that Blaine’s lungs didn’t fill too quickly and cause him to pass out. Kurt could appreciate a sturdy corset, but not like this one, worn solely for looks. But this wasn’t vanity. In the case of the prince, Blaine’s father forced it on him to keep him from slouching in the presence of the princess - so he didn’t show with his body the resentment he felt.

Blaine far from needed a corset. His shoulders broad, his waist trim, his arms muscular, he cut a handsome figure in a properly fitted coat. Kurt could see that figure now, emerging from underneath cotton and bone. And though Kurt didn’t approve of the corset, the marks it left behind, running vertically on Blaine’s olive skin, made him hotter than a brick oven cooking in the middle of July.

Kurt removed the corset completely, and Blaine stood before him shirtless, back turned, chest heaving in anticipation. Kurt took a moment to appreciate the body of the man who’d started coming to him more and more recently in need of release … and sometimes, in need of comfort. Kurt rounded on Blaine and stood before him, stripped off his own shirt and tossed it aside, allowing the prince time to lay eyes on his body. He wore only his leather work pants, the material clinging like a second skin to his thighs. Kurt let Blaine’s eyes wander where they pleased, let him gawk openly, but once Kurt saw the bulge in the front of Blaine’s pants grow with interest, he knew Blaine had seen enough. Kurt pointed sharply to the ground, and seeing the signal from his Dom, Blaine lowered his eyes to the floor.

“Arms out,” Kurt commanded, no more need for ceremony or fancy titles now that Blaine had silently shown his willingness to submit.

Blaine raised his arms and grabbed the posts at either side of him, keeping his eyes downcast while his Dom worked. Kurt bound Blaine’s wrists to the wood, wrapping them with leather straps and pulling the ends tight. The prince sighed when the leather bit into his skin.

“You like that?” Kurt ran a hand up Blaine’s spine, rubbing his shoulders and pushing down on his bowed neck. “Of course, you do. You always do.”

Without permission to speak, Blaine stood obediently and listened.

In the confines of Kurt’s quarters, his sub didn’t always have permission to speak.

He had permission to scream, but that could be taken away.

Kurt stole a moment to clean up, washing the filth from his body with water from a basin beside his bed. He grimaced when the water turned brown with dust, as did the cloth he wiped down with. He wished he could wash himself a bit more thoroughly, but that would require drawing a bath.

They didn’t have that kind of time.

He opened a chest on the floor and pulled out a braided whip, along with a pair of leather gloves, both gifts from the prince after the first time Blaine wandered down to the stables in search of Kurt’s services. At the time, Blaine barely knew himself, barely understood where his strange urges came from. He had noticed Kurt before. Of course he had. Who but the blind could not? He was fair and strong, but kept mostly to himself. God, he seemed so quiet, so innocent to Blaine’s eyes.

After watching Kurt spend the afternoon breaking a new pair of stallions – a gift from the Belgium ambassador – Blaine simply knew.

He knew what he needed, and that night, he sought Kurt out – to have Kurt break him like one of his horses.

They taught each other, learned together, and as time passed, Blaine came to Kurt almost nightly, until the marks on his back frightened his servants. They would have sent most of the household into a fury had it not been for Sebastian and his uncanny ability to stop wagging tongues.

Falling in love with Kurt … well, that was something that Blaine hadn’t expected.

Kurt slipped the gloves over his hands, and then ran his hands all over Blaine’s body, starting down at his ankles, drawing his hands up Blaine’s legs, firmly massaging the muscles of the prince’s thighs, brushing over the outline of his hard cock aching in the restrictive pants. Kurt would have taken great pleasure in grabbing the impressive length and stroking it until Blaine came, but he knew that wasn’t what the prince needed. His hands traveled up Blaine’s flanks and his chest, pinching both nipples hard and soliciting a stifled groan. Kurt hugged Blaine from behind, fitting their bodies together so that Blaine could feel every plane of his body against him.

Kurt felt Blaine lean back toward him, longing to be close to him.

“That’ll come soon enough,” Kurt said. “That’ll come as soon as you do, sweetheart.”

Kurt released him and stepped away. Blaine whimpered beneath his breath.

“Was there something you wanted to say, sweetheart?” Kurt picked up his whip, feeling the weight of it in his hand, holding it so the braid didn’t brush against the dirty floor. He came back to where the prince stood and rested his head against the man’s shoulder.

Blaine shivered, holding on by a thread, and Kurt hadn’t even started yet.

“Please …” Blaine breathed, his voice heavy with desperation. “Help me …”

“Alright, sweetheart,” Kurt whispered, letting the words fall over Blaine’s shoulders and slide down his skin.

Kurt moved away, and without any warning, snapped the whip. The first crack of Kurt’s whip didn’t connect to Blaine’s skin; it was only meant to prepare him for what was to come. The sound of it, the promise in that sound as it struck the air, filled Blaine’s body with a surge of heat. It loosened every muscle, unbottled his inhibitions - gave him permission to be a man, not a prince. Kurt ran the leather braid over Blaine’s skin with light strokes, watching goosebumps blossom on the prince’s tan back and arms. The prince’s skin, pulled tight over his muscular frame, made Kurt’s mouth water. He knew how it tasted, how it felt beneath his tongue, how it felt against his back when Blaine pounded into him from behind.

Kurt walked back a few paces and watched Blaine prepare for the first hit, his muscles tightening to absorb the blow. It made Kurt immensely hard to watch such a powerful man like Prince Blaine, shrewd and clever, feared by his enemies and loved by his kingdom, submit. He took his time, eyeing the area right beside his spine where thin, white marks had already healed over other lighter, silvery marks. He raised his arm, but before he could bring the whip down, he heard one last, soft plea from the prince’s lips.

“Kurt?”

The whip cut through the air, the end of it slicing Blaine’s back. The tethered prince threw his head back and screamed through clenched teeth.

“God!” he groaned, breathing out quickly.

“I love the way you sound the first time,” Kurt moaned. “I love hearing you scream.”

“More,” Blaine begged. “Please, or I’m going to go mad.”

“No one told you to speak,” Kurt said with delight, holding his whip at bay.

Blaine dropped his head and whined, pressing his lips into a tight line to keep from making any more remarks, one in particular on the tip of his tongue that would most likely have him untied and sent home.

Kurt watched Blaine’s breathing slow, his body relax, and when calm had overtaken him, Kurt brought the whip down again, moving closer so more of the braid bit into his back.

“Augh! Christ!” Blaine growled, his arms shaking, tugging reflexively against the straps binding his wrists and pulling them tighter.

Kurt held tight to the whip handle, feeling his heart race in his chest. Another crack of his whip cutting into Blaine’s back made the prince’s knees buckle. He grabbed at the wooden posts and held firm, righting his feet beneath him. Kurt brought the whip down again, harder than before, and the scream that escaped the prince’s throat morphed into a moan. His knees buckled again, and this time, he almost fell to the floor.

“Now, now,” Kurt tutted, swallowing down the stirrings of his own erection, begging to be free from his pants. “We wouldn’t want you breaking your pretty little wrists. Stand up like the good boy you are.”

Blaine regained his footing, his knees wobbling as he waited.

Kurt reached down a gloved hand, snaked it beneath the waist of his pants, and grabbed his cock. He held himself, squeezing below the head, suppressing the craving to stroke. Holding his hard length in his hand, he brought the whip down again, and again, harder, and then less so, letting Blaine’s mutters and groans fuel his desires. Blaine held on to the posts, fingers straining, knuckles white, while his body slumped and his knees fought to keep him upright. Four more stripes and Blaine’s back was nearly painted red, but still he begged for more.

“Do you want to cum, Blaine?” Kurt asked, his voice low, merely a rumble in the back of his throat. He approached the prince slowly, letting Blaine hear every footfall on the floor behind him. Kurt surveyed the crisscross marks on Blaine’s back, wondering how it felt, how he could get off on being whipped the way he did, but the look of them, slightly grotesque and swollen, knowing that Blaine enjoyed them, made Kurt long for release himself. “Do you want me to make you cum?”

“Y-y-yes,” Blaine mumbled, his voice struggling to be heard past the chattering of his teeth.

“Do you want to cum off the end of my whip, Blaine?”

“Y-y-yes.” Blaine’s voice was nearly inaudible this time, but Kurt didn’t need to hear him say it. The answer was the same every time.

Kurt retreated again, forgetting the pain of his erection to focus on what he knew would happen next. He brought the whip down lightly on Blaine’s shoulder, but it was enough to make him weak. One more time on the opposite shoulder almost obliterated his grasp on the wooden post.

“Oh, God,” Blaine whispered into the air. Kurt could tell from his breathy gasp that he almost had him. The whip snapped at Blaine’s lower back, in those dimples where Kurt loved to fit his hands when they got the chance to make love. Blaine’s hips lurched forward, and a quiet, “yes,” passed his lips.

One more. Kurt knew he only needed one more, and he picked his spot carefully, a spot that had taken hours of practicing on those nights when he slept alone to perfect.

A spot that had become the prince’s favorite by far.

Kurt snapped the whip out along Blaine’s waist, where the braided length wrapped around his hip and hit his throbbing cock, with enough force to sting, but not enough to do any damage.

But it was all he needed.

“Fuck!” Blaine moaned and came with a string of muttered curses, his knees giving out and his wrists pulling on the leather straps until Kurt thought they might dislocate. Kurt dropped his whip and rushed over with a tall stool for the prince to drop down onto, giving Kurt time to undo the leather straps from the posts, and then from Blaine’s wrists, taking care with the sore, broken skin.

“Kurt … I …” Blaine muttered with his eyes half-lidded, lust blown pupils searching Kurt’s body while he worked. The fingers of Blaine’s freed left hand toyed at the strings of Kurt’s pants while Kurt worked to untie the left.

“Blaine …” Kurt warned, panting as tired, shaking fingertips brushed the head of his neglected erection.

“Kurt,” Blaine mumbled, “I want to …”

“No, Your Highness,” Kurt said firmly. He wrapped his arms around Blaine’s waist and lifted him from the stool, helping Blaine limp his way onto the bed. “You can barely stand.”

“I don’t … need to stand … for what I have in mind,” Blaine stuttered. Kurt suddenly got a vivid image of his gorgeous prince on his knees, pink lips stretched around his cock, taking him down his throat to the hilt, sparkling hazel eyes staring up at him with no shame, no superiority, no lines or borders or boundaries between them. It was almost a tempting enough image to make Kurt give in, but he couldn’t. It wouldn’t feel right. It would feel like taking advantage of a tired and wounded man.

“Maybe when you can stand on your own, I’ll let you,” Kurt said, trying to think of anything he could to make his persistent hard-on die.

There was a bull calf in the north quarter that he’d need to castrate on the morrow, he reminded himself, sure that that would do the trick.

It didn’t. In a way, it only made things worse, which, in turn, made him question his moral compass.

He laid Blaine down on his stomach. He emptied and cleaned his basin, then refilled it with clean water. He dusted the cool liquid with herbs that he remembered his mother using to heal cuts and bruises when he was younger, long before he entered the king’s service. They worked well against infection and cut down the sting, but most of all, they sped the scabbing of the wounds. Any mark on the prince’s skin stabbed at Kurt, regardless of how erotic whipping him felt.

Kurt emptied and refilled the basin three times before the prince’s wounds were well cleaned. He undressed the prince, pulling off his shoes, pants, and stockings, exposing him to the cool, soothing air. Then Kurt disrobed and climbed onto the bed beside him. Blaine reached out instinctually to find Kurt, to hold his hand or touch his shoulder, anything to let him know that Kurt was there beside him. Blaine had often said that Kurt was his anchor, and that without him, he would feel adrift, floating here and there with no place to call home.

It was difficult to believe those words sometimes, considering all that would befall them in the days and weeks to come, but they were nice to hear all the same.

“You will be staying on here, will you not? After I am wed?” Blaine asked. It was a question made of more than one feeling. It was a statement, a command, a prince relaying an order that would be followed without dispute; but it was also a plea, a hope, a gentle request.

“I was not commanded otherwise,” Kurt replied, sheltering his smile. Blaine laced their fingers together. He brought Kurt’s hand to his mouth to kiss his knuckles.

“Will you be telling Princess Berry about us then?”

Blaine’s kisses stopped, and Kurt wished he could take his question back, but he also needed to know.

“Why would she need to know?”

“Well, she is to be your wife,” Kurt said matter-of-factly. “Don’t you think she deserves to know?”

“No,” Blaine said, a catch splintering his voice. “No, she doesn’t. I will not share you and I will not lose you. Do you understand?”

“But I’m sharing you,” Kurt grumbled.

“It’s not the same and you know it.”

“But …”

“No, Kurt! It’s different! You understand, don’t you?” Blaine let out a shuddering breath. “P-please say you do.”

Kurt sighed, sinking further into the thin mattress with his arm wrapped around the prince’s middle, avoiding putting too much pressure on his back.

“Yes, Your Highness.” He leaned over to kiss Blaine’s cheek. “I understand.”

Kurt drew his blanket over them. He kissed Blaine softly on the nape of his neck, feeling the body in his arms relax at the touch of his lips. Kurt let his breathing follow Blaine’s till they inhaled together and exhaled together, drifting off to sleep with a sympathetic Sebastian guarding the stable door, ready to wake his prince before dawn.

#klaine fanfiction #klaine fic #klaine #frankie writes

[batvish-blog]

Top 10 Lingerie Gifting Ideas

Valentine’s Day is looming over your head and you are fighting against time to plan the perfect day and buy the most heartwarming gift. This is the day when you will score all of your brownie points and earn forgiveness for every stupid thing you have done in the past few days. Naturally, the day has to be perfect. A big contributor to a perfect Valentine’s Day is Valentine’s day gift. This gift should be sweet, thoughtful and symbolise your relationship. Basically, it has to make her feel like the most beautiful and special girl in the world. Finding a gift that fulfils all of these criteria is hard. But there is one gift to beat all other gifts- lingerie. If you buy her the right lingerie, it will make her feel bold, sexy and beautiful and if you play your cards right you might even get to see it on her at the end of the night! It is a win-win. If you don’t subscribe to the idea of Valentine’s day and instead celebrate the power and beauty of female friendships through Galentine’s Day, then lingerie is the perfect gift too. A gorgeous lingerie piece can make your friend feel amazing and confident on even the most ordinary day. Knowing the value of lingerie as gifts, we have curated a list of 10 gorgeous lingerie pieces that will definitely become your favourite girl’s new favourite underpinnings.

Fatal Attraction (Lingerie Accessories):

1. Chic and Maiden set:

This three-piece lingerie set is the embodiment of sweet and sexy. This fatally seductive combo has a lace detailed bra and panty with a matching cheeky garter belt. The frill and lace will make her feel sweet and delicate while the beautiful black colour will get her inner seductress out.  It is a unique set that can be mix and matched with other pieces because of its versatile design. If you want your gift to make her swoon and blush a bright red, this is the perfect gift that you can give her.

Sugar and Spice and everything nice (Sleepwear):

This amazing collection of sleepwear has something for everyone. Sheer babydoll dresses for girls wanting to live up to their audacious personalities, satin silky goodness for ladies who prefer to lie in the lap of luxury and comfort in the night.

1. Firewalk: This stunningly designed sheer floral lace chemise is bound to make any girl feel like a seductress straight out of a Bond movie. This little black chemise features an intricate floral lace in the front, dainty little triangular sheer cups with vertical centre seams for shape. The V-neck with scallop trim and lace edges is designed to look steamy. The soft and sheer material is lightweight, feels luxurious and hugs your body like a dream. In this little black chemise, your girl is going to look like a gorgeous seductress and you are definitely going to drool at the sight of her.

2. Sleep in Shape:

Is that a goddess or is that a girl in this beautiful floral lace detailed sleepwear? This sexy black chemise features 3/4th push-up cups with lace embellished body that is going to win her heart. The bonus is that it comes with an adjustable strap and a matching G-string. This also the perfect gift for your fave gal pal, especially if it is a bachelorette gift! This chemise will fortify your friendship by showing her that you love and celebrate her bold, confident and sexy side. If the phrase, “oh la la” was turned into sleepwear- this sexy black chemise would be that sleepwear!

3. Freefall:

This little black babydoll is one for the sexy sleepwear hall of fame because it will definitely sweep her and you off your feet. It has all the ingredients for the recipe of the ultimate sexy goddess- sheer fabric, frill detailing in the straps, cheeky front knot which is the gateway to a sweeping opening and a G-string. This babydoll leaves nothing to the imagination. It is the perfect gift if you want your Valentine’s day to end with a steamy night. This jaw-dropping, heart-stopping babydoll is definitely going to make your girl look like “babydoll sohne di”.

Guilty Pleasures:

If you are thinking about something totally naughty then we have some treats lined up for you. This outrageously sexy collection of bras make for the perfect cheeky gift. She is going to look so gorgeous in these bras, you won’t know if its a gift for her or yourself. 1. Kiss Me:

This beautiful, lacey bralette is the perfect addition to any lingerie collection. The bralette has a heat-set pleats design on the straps with a longline silhouette adds more coverage while the delicate straps make it subtly sexy. The bralette ends in a high-low lacey frills pattern that oozes sexiness. Additionally, the bra is wired and padded with level 1 push-up cups to give the cleavage a flattering lift. This cute bralette walks the fine line between elegance and sexy and will make your special girl feel like a million bucks.

2. Tweet:

This bra doubles up as a shapewear and is guaranteed to give you your ideal shape. This balconette style strapless shapewear comes with padded demi cups and underwired detail that provides full bust contour and support. This gorgeous shapewear comes with design features like the adjustable shoulder straps with removable option for multiple wearing choices. The intensely rigid fabric guarantees excellent contouring while also being comfortable and allowing you to breathe. This fabulous and sexy, bra cum shapewear is definitely is the key to winning her heart and gaining all the brownie points. Style this with a jacket and fitted jeans and your favourite boots, and get that celeb look in no time!

3. Lady Bug:

This magical black bra will transport you right back into the era of princesses and fairies. This chic plunge bra will be a great statement piece in your lingerie drawer. This pretty black number features pretty little lace frills along with straps that give this piece a dainty look. Your special lady can pair The wide-set straps and the plunging neckline with low cut dresses and blow your mind. This bra comes with padded, wired cups that guarantee great contouring, coverage and support, throughout the day. The pretty lace between the cups ties the whole look together and is like a gift waiting for you to open it.

4. Mellow:

Gift your Valentine’s a bra that comes with multiple styling options with this chic, strappy multiway bra. Designed with a perfect match of function, comfort and beauty, this chic lace overlay, the strappy bra will give you a great shape and comfort. The cups are wired and padded in a flattering balconette shape and come adorned with scalloped lace. This bra comes with the option of removable straps so that you can style it with many different clothes like a strapless, crossed back, halter or even one-shoulder style! With so many options and choices, your lady love is bound to rock any outfit that she decides to wear.

5. Swank:

This sensuous and sinfully beautiful stretch floral bra is bound to make your special lady feel like a ravishing Queen. The bra is designed with triangle-shaped, transparent lace cups and features a plunging neckline with scalloped lace edges. The bra cups also have underwire detail and seam along the bottom, to offer guaranteed support and hold. For the annoying issue that shoulder straps digging into your skin is, this bra has wide, flat and comfortable shoulder straps that can be adjusted with sliders. Made from stretchable, breathable soft lace, this bra is sure to make your girl feel luxurious and comfortable and she will definitely thank you for it.

6. Lace detailed Bodysuit:

This delicate bodysuit with scalloped edges, lace detailing and a deep V-neck halter is super cute, and it’s perfect for your girl if she likes surprising strappy back details. This extremely chic white bodysuit can be paired with blue ripped denim for a stunning day look or even with a pencil skirt for more elegant, evening attire. The bodysuit oozes versatility and you can pair it with anything to create a gorgeous ensemble. Your lady love will fall in love at first sight with this cute bodysuit and fall in love with you all over again for gifting her this treasure.

That concludes the list of gorgeous lingerie gifting ideas that will blow the mind of your Valentine’s. This lingerie pieces will be perfect additions to any and every wardrobe and are in essence statement pieces that are a definite must-have. So this Valentine’s day gift your lady or friend or even yourself these sweet and sexy pieces that will make your girl/your friend/yourself feel sexy, confident and bold. Happy Shopping!