#instant saving account | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

randomdragonfires · 6 months

Text

I'm A Fire And I'll Keep Your Brittle Heart Warm [One Shot]

Text Divider by @saradika-graphics

SUMMARY | Flowers come to Aemond in multiple shapes and forms throughout his marriage.

WARNINGS | 18+; Mild Smut.

WORD COUNT | 9.6k

A/N | Yet another repost, yay! This one was written based off an ask sent to me by @wonderbias and beta read by the loml @humanpurposes

Their union began as a fragile, delicate one.

By all accounts, Aemond Targaryen was a fine man that any maiden in the Seven Kingdoms would be proud to be with, should he– a skilled dragonrider, a scholar, a respectful man of honor, a prince worthy of his name and blood– choose to take her to wife.

If only he was not so stoic and dull, they said. The very jovial little lady of Highgarden will be bored of him in moments!

‘Twas the first of many whispers he heard of his apparent inadequacy with regards to his impending nuptials and marriage, and even though it killed him, he could not bring himself to disagree. The woman that he was to marry – the beautiful, kind, ladylike wisp of a girl that was to be entrusted to him– was a fair maiden who lit up any chamber she graced with her presence, a stark contrast to how he seemed to darken those that he stalked into.

Charming girl like that, she will hate him, they said. The poor thing is probably scared.

Every lady dreamed of chivalrous knights and charming princes, and Aemond knew very well that he was far from being either. They dreamed of charming men who would immortalize them in song, whose looks could thaw the hearts of the coldest women in an instant. Aemond knew very well that the Gods had refused him the chance to even try with her– what with their allowance of his mutilation at a tender, young age.

Even with just one eye, he saw many possibilities but to his dismay, he did not imagine any outcome would be favorable to him. With the scar he carried on his face and the weight of the world on his shoulders, Aemond was never meant to be the man that his intended deserved.

And so, he decided that he would keep her at arm's length and in consequence, save his pride. He'd reject her before she rejected him. He may not know it now, but matters of the heart are fickle– and to the utter disappointment of his pride, his little lady rose was very easy to love.

He would not be caught dead pathetically pining after a woman who would soon be his. He would not.

And so, their courtship remained devoid of romance and scandal. His family was made privy to each of their highly appropriate conversations, with them taking turns in chaperoning their walks through the gardens.

There was nothing that he wished to share, for he did not want to lose too much. He did what was expected of him, and she did the very same. Soon, there was respect, admiration, and a whole host of burgeoning feelings that Aemond tried hard to suppress - feelings that he clearly did not see in her eyes as she dared to look into his.

How could she feel anything for a stoic, dull, one-eyed man like him?

As he draped the red and black cloak over her shoulder and pledged to be her man of liege and limb, he told himself that he would not try. He would not give into fantasies, only to be met with rejection from a woman who was too good for him; one that may realize it soon enough as well.

After all, Aemond Targaryen had his pride. He would feed himself to the dragons before admitting to someone else being better than him, let alone be rejected by that same person. He was certainly not going to woo her, not when he knew that he would only be met with contempt and disgust.

It did not matter how badly he wanted to. He would not allow himself to succumb to such idyllic daydreams. He would not.

When night fell and the wedding feast was in full swing, his new good-father was the only one who could give his brother a run for his money with how deep he was in his cups. It was obvious how the wine-induced stupor affected the fat lord Tyrell as he bellowed for his daughter and his new good son to take the lead and join in the dancing and merriment.

Aemond was ready to retch at the thought, but what stopped him from making his irritation clear was the possibility that she may want to dance. His wife. He had seen her dance before– as graceful as an otherworldly swan. She had a better grasp at frivolous courtly affairs than he did.

His wife may want to dance. His wife, his wife, his wife. A little rose, his.

He shuffled his feet under the cloth-covered long table and allowed his one eye to train over his clothed boots. In spite of all the dancing lessons he had taken with Helaena, Aemond had never indulged before– and now, he was expected to entertain his bride each time a song played. The thought made him want to press his feet into the ground further than he already has, in hopes that perhaps the ground would swallow him whole.

His view of the dancing crowd had been taken from him by half along with his eye. Without the luxury of complete vision, he could not dance without bumping into everyone that was on his blind side. Now, he would have to– if she wanted to.

He thought he could say no, but he feared that if he were to look her in the eyes, he'd never be able to. Perhaps that was why he had refused to even look at her throughout the ceremony, despite her many admirable– yet failed– attempts to catch his line of sight and share a smile.

It was her meek, mouse-like voice that brought him out of his nervous trance. “We do not have to," she said, the words falling out of her lips like a song.

“You like to dance, my lady,” he said.

“But you do not, my prince. It takes two.” Her surprisingly understanding words were followed by a timid smile, one that threatened to rip through his defenses and get to him.

In the crowded throne room, as his new bride sets aside her happiness to accommodate his preferences, Aemond worried that his self-imposed distance from her may not last too long if she kept offering him kind glances and sweet smiles– no matter how forced and dutiful he knew them to be.

He had much to lose; his pride, his heart. He would not risk it, even if she was seemingly easy to love. He would not. He would not. He would not.

After all, Aemond Targaryen had his pride.

Soon after, her drunk nuisance of a father had called for the bedding. Aemond did nothing as his trembling bride was ushered away by the handmaidens and ladies, each of them wriggling her jewelry off as she stumbled in her steps before they carried her off.

Should he have asked for a private bedding? In hindsight, he believed he wronged her by throwing her to the mercies of the court in her vulnerability. Equally, he did not want to attempt a show of compassion– not when she may not even welcome it from the one-eyed fiend of a husband that she was stuck with.

When he walked into the chambers in his loose linen shirt and breeches, his breath hitched in his throat. Helaena had once told him that the Septas refer to women’s maidenheads as flowers. “Beautiful, ripe and ready for the plucking,” she had said, keeping her nose pointed upward in her imitations. He'd never given the words much thought.

Until now.

There she was. His wife, his flower, his rose, ready for plucking, in her translucent white shift and now untamed hair, like a fae in a dream. How could she possibly be his? How could she possibly be happy with a man as monstrous as him for a husband?

Her eyes, wide and fearful, flittered about his face, in his mind an expression of her repulsion. It pained him to think she did not even give him a chance.

But she was accommodating about my not wanting to dance…

Perhaps she did like to dance; just not with him.

These unsaid words and subsequent misunderstandings plagued their wedding night. Both believed the other did not desire them.

That night, she offered her flower to him– as is her duty– and he took great care in taking it from her. He made sure she was pliant, so that when he took it, she would be as glad and thrilled as he was, regardless of how well-hidden his happiness was.

He may have grimaced in disgust at Aegon's vulgar demonstrations and lessons about the pleasures of the marital bed, but he was thankful as he heard her moan out his name in a silent scream while she convulsed around his fingers. The silent sounds of her choked out moans and the heat engulfing his fingers may have very well been enough for Aemond to find release, and he reminded himself quickly that she will not want him when they're done. How could she, deformed as he was?

And so, he stopped wanting to be good for her, and simply endeavored to get it done with.

She was only more than willing to allow him to take her flower. If he was not so preoccupied with his own insecurities, he may have seen that it had gone past duty for her. Her loud moans proved the fact, and left little room for dispute (or doubt, in the minds of the prying ears that stayed close to the doors of their chambers, and the sharp eyes of the council who were now shuffling out of their seats).

He inched into her, and her tears and turned face only seemed to make it harder for him. Was he so beyond hope that she could not even look? What was it? Had he hurt her? He did not ask, lest he risk finding out that he was a disappointment. So he lost himself, drowned in his own head as he mechanically moved in and out, in and out, in and out.

Duty. Duty. Duty.

If he had not been so preoccupied with tearing his own being to shreds in his mind, he may have heard her moans as the bright pink tip of his cock hit a rough spot in her, allowing her pleasures and experiences she did not believe she would ever know. He may have known that she desired him, just as he did her.

His self-deprecating thoughts couldn't have been farther from the truth– he may not have realized it that night, but he would soon enough.

Flowers came to Aemond in multiple shapes and forms throughout his marriage, and the first ever flower she gave him– whether she chose to see it that way or not– came to him on their wedding night, in the form of her maidenhead.

Tourneys were a time of celebration for her.

There was something to be said about the romance of watching men ask women for favors and fight with all the might and grace that they possess. She had often dreamed that a dashing knight or a courteous prince would perhaps approach her for her favor, and then perhaps crown her Queen of Love and Beauty. If she was lucky, the man would court her too.

The man she married was the antithesis of all that she hoped a tourney would bring.

Her husband was not a bad man by any means– no. He was a good and respectful husband, slightly removed and isolated for her outward nature, but she did not mind. There were worse men to be married to, and even if he never went out of his way to be there for her, he certainly treated her well when they were in each other’s presence.

She tried with him, Gods bless her.

She would try to catch his eye at the supper table, or watch him train in hopes that he would meet her watchful gaze once or twice. She would watch in a sleepy haze as he woke early in the morn, long before she had the strength or consciousness to wish him a good day, hoping he would turn to do the same. He never did.

More often than not, a curt nod and a wavering glance was all she’d get. Still there were brief, hopeful moments that kept her active in her pursuit to build a friendship with her husband.

She would have done something absolutely obnoxious— acts that would have him sneering if it was someone else– and she’d see it. That little hint of a smile, waiting to bubble through the surface, just by the corner of his pink lips, that she would have missed if she blinked. Each time there was a tenuous beginning of a hesitant smile, she felt a tiny sliver of hope.

He was not so intimidating to her now as he was in the initial days of their union– no. In a little corner of her mind, she acknowledged that fact– that is what helped her find his hand and hold it tight in nervousness, before she could even comprehend the intimacy of the act.

The knight who had just taken a harsh tumble from his horse was carried away by servants, with his head beaten bloody and hands hanging limp by his side. If she did not know better, she would have thought him dead.

The champion then raised his hands up in victory. Thunderous clapping sounds overshadowed all else around her, but she could not bring herself to join. She was still stunned by how the other knight had fallen, and was yet to let go of Aemond’s hand.

She felt the bile rise in her throat, so she brought her other hand to her chest and bowed her head down, a feeble attempt at keeping the vomit at bay. It was awhile until she managed to catch her breath again, and by then the celebrations had moved on from celebrating the champion to the crowning of his Queen of Love and Beauty.

The eldest Lady Baratheon smiled coyly as she received the wreath of winter roses, followed by a chaste kiss to her cheek. The crowd gasped at how brazen the act was, with neither of them being married, but the high of winning makes men do the most peculiar things, she supposed. In the back of her mind, regardless of how uneasy she felt, she wished– desperately.

How she wished it was her.

A childish fantasy really. What was a publicly gifted crown of flowers worth in the face of what she had? She was a Princess of the realm now, married to a skilled dragonrider from a family of illustrious history and blood. Any children they may have will be immortalized in the annals. Nothing. A crown of flowers was worth nothing when compared to what she had– or at least, that is what she would tell herself.

And yet, she craved the romance. She had always enjoyed the idea of being loved and cherished. Her husband respected her, and if she was feeling bold, she’d say he liked her– but he certainly did not love her. That much she was certain of. When she naively wished that he’d crown her, she asked if he was going to enter the lists. He had sharply turned so quickly that she feared she had angered him.

“I don’t give a sh…” He had sighed before speaking again, as though he felt tested. “I do not care for tourneys.” The sharpness in his voice had hurt her, and she did not speak of it again.

Their marriage was a decent one– but it held none of the love she hoped to have, despite all her attempts.

Did he find her so disagreeable?

All of a sudden, his hand felt cold to the touch and she let go of him like he burned her. The heat came back to her hand just as it showed on her cheeks, and his had turned cold from having lost her touch so abruptly.

“I’d like to get some fresh air, husband,” she said, and rose before he could even ask if she needed him to accompany her.

Her quick walk took her to the tent where the court ladies had been sitting, and she had stepped in right in time to hear them gossip– about her husband.

“Well he must keep it on while they… you know! It can be jarring to look at, I’m sure it is!”

“It must be terrible to see it up close all the time. I can hardly look at him from across the chamber!”

He is certainly unnerving. It does make you wonder though, do you think they actually…” the woman lowered her voice to match the vulgarity that was to follow. “Do you think they actually fuck? She cannot possibly want to, and she is not with child either…”

“Well, does it really matter if she wants to? He’s a Prince, and her husband. He’ll take his pleasure regardless.”

Regardless of where she and her husband stood, she would not stand for their marriage to become fodder for court gossip. If she stayed quiet for any longer while these empty-headed women berated her husband, she would be insulting him herself.

“Might I ask what is so amusing?” she said with sharp eyes and a tilted head. The sweat on their faces upon her arrival was apparent, and so was their nervousness.

“My Lady, we were just–”

“Princess,” she corrected.

“Yes of course, Princess. We were just–”

“Making presumptions about my marriage?”

“No… we just…”

“Don’t deny it,” she seethed, anger looking completely foreign on a soft, comely face like hers. Her nostrils flared and her nose went red in her current state, but there was no way she could stop now.

“The next time you feel the need to comment on such matters , perhaps you will all learn to remind yourself that he is a Prince of the realm and I am his wife! There will be suitable punishment, and you will all be dismissed from court at my pleasure, disgraced and husbandless. Now, we wouldn’t want that, would we?” Her words were cutting and sharp, and they had the younger ladies bowing their heads in fear almost immediately.

“I’ll have you all know that unlike the other men of the court, Prince Aemond’s scar came to him along with the largest dragon in the world. His bravery only makes him more handsome to me.”

She then fixed her attention onto the married lady of the bunch and delivered a questionable blow that she would certainly feel bad about later. “If you’ve been led to believe that the man takes his pleasure from his wife even if she does not want to, then perhaps your marriage is a lot worse than I thought. Your husband must have no regard for your wants, unlike mine. And for that, I am truly sorry.”

She did not wait for them to respond as she gathered her skirts and walked out of the tent, feeling largely annoyed and satisfied to an extent. But as she began her walk back, the fear of news of her anger reaching her husband hit her like a harsh and heavy wave.

Would he call her insolent and disgraceful? Has she damaged her marriage more than it already has been?

She did not have to wait long for her answer, for Aemond had been just a few steps behind her, watching the entire scene unfold. The angry flush on her face left her as quickly as it had come, replaced by a skittish nervousness that led to her shuffling her feet as she stood before him, at a complete loss for words.

She swallowed the spit gathering in her mouth, throat bobbing as her head remained facing down to the floor, awaiting a scolding from him for her absolutely inexcusable behavior; her husband was a man who knew his courtesies, after all. He could not possibly be happy with how she carried herself and disappointed him.

“You do not look well. Let me walk you to our chambers,” was all he said before he led her away with a hand on the small of her back.

She remained worried that he was perhaps leading them to privacy and silence so he could punish her while being undisturbed. She could not have been farther from the truth.

She expected him to scream at her, forget all the courtesy that he had shown her and throw his words at her without care. What she was not prepared for, was for him to hold her chin between his thumb and index fingers, pulling her face up to meet his.

He curiously inspected her, almost as though her little show of anger thoroughly amused him. She would not be surprised if it did– she had never been so outward in her anger in the two months that they had been married; this was a completely new side to her that he was now privy to.

“What was that, wife?” His words were measured and cut.

“They…” She was stunned to find that, despite her tongue becoming loose in moments of anger, it was hard for her to speak right now. So, she chose to gulp once more and tried to look someplace else. The uncertainty in his sharp, one-eyed violet gaze was becoming too much for her to bear– but Aemond did not give up easily. He kept her head held in place as she desperately waited for the words to come to her.

“They were being crude, and insulting you.”

He looked at her for a moment, his sharp gaze refusing to waver as the sunlight pierced through the glass windows of their chamber. He then let go of her, and handed her a goblet of wine to calm her clearly unsteady senses. He watched as she took little sips from the chalice, the restless turning of the wheels in his mind apparent on his face.

Soon after, he made up a sham of a reason about having to leave when the cheering crowds became louder and louder. She nodded and continued to sip, completely oblivious to the change of heart that her husband was having as she wondered why he brought her back to their bed.

She did not know the thoughts that now ran fast and surely in his mind. She did not know that he thought his eye had cost him a chance at a happy marriage with her. She had no idea of knowing how conflicted he felt at the new realization, for his sculpted face gave nothing away.

He turned to face her with a hand on the door. “Thank you,” he mumbled.

She nodded and smiled meekly while he stalked back to the festivities.

He held his hands tightly behind him as he tried to make sense of how light his heart felt in comparison to the rest of him.

Back in the chamber, she blushed. For all her worry that he may have been disappointed, she had been completely floored by how he had responded– he was thankful. She berated herself for not considering the possibility– and smiled at the realization that for all her husband’s prowess as a warrior, in times like these, he needed a champion too.

That night, Aemond burned the midnight oil while reading in the library, trying to still his racing heart and make sense of how it leapt at newfound thoughts of his little wife.

Across the Holdfast, in the soft candlelight of their shared chambers, she sat on her husband’s dear chair, looking at her handiwork– an embroidered silk tourney favor, with a little rose.

Her husband may not care for tourneys, but making the favor allowed her the luxury of thinking that should the possibility of him willingly entering the lists come around, he would do so with her gift on his lance. Mayhaps he would crown her Queen of Love and Beauty too– the thought makes her blush.

She would give it to him should he ever choose to partake someday. Until then, it would be safely hidden away in her shelves, amidst her gowns and other possessions.

Flowers have came to Aemond in multiple shapes and forms throughout his marriage, and the second flower that was intended for him– despite the fact that she was yet to give it to him– came to him on the day of the the twins’ name day tourney, in the form of a rose, embroidered onto a tourney favor.

They have come to enjoy each other's company.

Her coming to his defense while expecting nothing in return had lit a fire in Aemond that he could not seem to quell. What he believed she had rejected him over, she had actually taken to being proud of. What he had believed was his one big, obvious and visible fatal flaw, was something that she had taken to holding in high regard.

I’ll have you lot know that unlike the other men of the court, his scar came to him along with the largest dragon in the world. And his bravery only makes him more handsome to me.

Her words rang in his mind like the definite tolling of the Great Bell at the Royal Sept. With each chime, her assertiveness on the matter came back to linger in his thoughts, he had fallen for her – bit by bit.

Feelings had always been a conundrum to Aemond, one that he did not entirely understand or even want to. But now, with a wife who warmed him and his heart slowly but surely, with her lovely smiles and nervous face, he found that he would like some certainty in the face of all that was uncertain in his heart.

He did not know if he loved her just yet. But what he did know was that, at the pace that she had set for them, it may be a very short while before he does. His wife. His wife, his wife, his wife.

His, his, his.

Coming to terms with having a wife that actually desired his company– and him, surprisingly enough– had spurned his attempts to bring some sort of intimacy to their marriage. Gods knew that she had tried, only to be rebuffed rudely by him in the initial days of their marriage. It was a time that he now felt deep regret and shame for, one that he would not rest until he had made right.

He needed her to see that he wanted to try.

He did not know how to be the charming prince from a bard’s songs. He did not know how to make women laugh like Aegon; be as sweet and kind as Helaena; or as chivalrous and perfect as Daeron.

But what he did know was respect. Aemond understood respect as something that was earned by everyone around him, but to his wife, it should have been unconditional. It should have come to her the day he had cloaked her and made her his– but it did not. Now, he intended to make it right.

He needed her to see that he wanted to try– which is how he found himself with her on his arm, as they walked hand in hand through the corridors of Maegor’s Holdfast towards their chambers. Ah yes, hand in hand. Another one of the little joys that he savored like it was his last day alive.

Their initially cold marriage had also been fueled by his blatant refusal to simply be near her, much less touch her. Why would she have wanted to be touched by a one-eyed monster, such as the likes of him?

But the moment he realized that she did not consider him so– not in the least– led to a warmth seeping through his blood, making him crave her so much that his heart hurt. If she did not mind it, why must he not exercise his liberties? And if there was some joy to be derived from it, why would they not want to indulge?

And so he had begun. A stolen touch here, a featherlight graze there.

His huge, calloused hand, seemed to be always holding her dainty one as he accompanied her throughout their time in the castle; on the small of her back as they maneuvered through feasts and dances; around her waist as they closed the distance between each other in their sleep, with her back to his chest; clutching onto her thigh to keep her in place for when she turned around and draped her tiny leg upon his waist.

His hands, all over her.

It was not just these fleeting, quick touches that Aemond had grown to enjoy. With their bond growing stronger with each passing moment, he had realized that their marital duties were simply not duties anymore. They had gone from believing that the other had tolerated their presence, to trying their level best so that the other would know how much they desired them. The growth of their marriage was evident in how their carnal indulgences had evolved.

Where he had held himself to hover over her so as to not facilitate any unnecessary touches, he had now taken to covering her entire being with his own. His hands around her hip as he pounded into her; her hands on his chest as the tip of her fingers grazed and pinched at his nipples. His hands in her hair as he mouthed at her heaving breast; her hands around him as she held onto him as tightly as she could, never wanting to let him go. His hands on her cunt as he drew peak after peak from her before thrusting himself into her; her hands around his cock as she pumped him before impaling herself by straddling him, just the way he liked.

Their sounds of pleasure had been held back and muffled in the beginning, but now they were uninhibited sounds taken by the wind, made with the intent of being heard and making desires known.

Oh yes, their marriage had grown.

This is what Aemond had been pondering as he led her through, with servants making their way for the young prince and princess as she held onto her husband with one hand, and a piece of rolled parchment and some charcoal on the other. He enjoyed their touches now, and it made his heart soar that he did not have to doubt her want for him either.

Yes, they could make something out of this.

“How was your time in the gardens, wife?” It made him happy that with the growth of their marriage, she had taken to exercising her liberties. So, when she had come to him requesting charcoal and bound parchment so she could begin drawing again, he was only happy to oblige.

“Good. I managed to sit and watch the flowers flit about in the wind for a time, and I drew a bit as well. Then the court ladies came to join me as they…”

Aemond listened to his wife as he sat himself on his chair by the hearth, most intently, and with the utmost concentration that he could muster. He could not bring himself to make selfless romantic declarations of love, or speak to her more than he was able. But he could listen, and that is what he would do.

Not a word unheard, not a moment missed. He needed her to see that he wanted to try.

She prattled on and on about her day, and how the court ladies had gossiped about each other when they thought the other wasn’t listening. He listened to the way her voice heightened when her recollections were happy, and he noted the way she frowned when she was in disapproval. He observed how her eyes widened at shocking narrations, and how her hands seemed to move like they had a life of their own.

He kept observing, losing himself in his newfound knowledge of her, her, her… and it was not until she stood close to him, her body slotted between his legs as she held her hands behind her back that he realized she had stopped speaking.

“Go on.”

He did not expect to be given something, not when his name day had just passed. But that is exactly what happened.

“For you,” she said. With her raised eyebrows and coy smile, she managed to place a parchment roll into his hand. Aemond made note of how her head faced down and her feet shuffled as she stood in wait for his approval.

He unrolled the parchment, careful to not cause even a stray tear at the edges. His eyes raked over the drawing, one of clear skill and years of training of the highest level– one befitting a lady.

“I shall treasure it, thank you.”

She smiled at his acceptance, and he nodded. He was not a smiling man, but he hoped that she knew how much he appreciated these gestures. He hoped that their marriage had grown enough for her to notice his quirks, just as he had made note of hers.

Flowers came to Aemond in multiple shapes and forms throughout his marriage, and the third flower that she had given him was a charcoal sketch of a rose, into which she had poured her heart and soul.

As the days passed, their mornings became brighter.

While she had hoped that the initial days of their marriage would have some semblance of love, and if not, at least affection to some extent, her hopes had been quickly dashed with the closed off and curt behavior that her husband seemed to have made his own. Neither did he ever wish her a good morrow upon sunrise, nor did he kiss her goodnight like in the songs.

But now, there was more.

Where there was coldness, there was now warmth. It was not heat, not like wildfire, no– it was warmth, like from the calm blaze of their hearth. She might not have awoken to a smile, no– her husband was not a smiling man– but she always woke to an arm snaked over her breasts, pressing into her. Where there was distance, oceans between them, there was now a shared intimacy, one that they had both been quietly happy about. She was not put to sleep with a kiss, but whenever she slept on the chaise waiting for him to arrive, he now ensured that she was put into comfortable clothes and carried to their bed with care.

He may not have cared for her in the beginning, but she knew he did now. Her husband was not a romantic man, but his small gestures were enough to make her feel happy and content.

The shift in their dynamic was not just visible in their daytime activities, but in the passions of their marriage bed as well. On the first night that they had coupled, he had been careful, experimental, doubtful. But as the days went by, he had become surer, rougher… insatiable.

She enjoyed this new side to him. She enjoyed being the woman that belonged to a fierce prince, the one that he so clearly desired. She enjoyed being held by him as he moved her up and down his cock, his head buried in her breasts as he breathed in the heady smell of sweat and sex. She enjoyed being impaled by him, her small body being split into two, all while having him whisper words of appreciation in her ears.

My little wife, my little flower. Made for me… only for me, he would say. Tell me who this cunt belongs to, he would growl, hands slapping her little nub over and over until she caught her breath, found her voice again and appeased him.

You! Gods… to you, my prince, she would whine, holding his hand in place, hoping he would fuck her with his fingers once more, just the way she liked.

It came as no surprise to her that ever since they had become welcome to each other’s affections, they had been a lot more active in their marriage bed– so much so that the lewd moans and loud curses had become court gossip.

When she had addressed the matter with him once soon after they had fucked, Aemond had smiled, albeit darkly– the only kind of smile that suited him. Dragons do not concern themselves with the opinions of sheep, he had said. His insinuation that she was now a dragon too, all while his warm breath fanned her neck and his large hands squeezed her backside, was all she needed to quell her worries.

And of course, as was the natural order of these things, she was now with child.

She had been overjoyed when she had found out, and a tad relieved too. The court ladies whispering about her womb was not something she appreciated– their assumptions about her being barren, even less. So when she found out, she insisted that she be the one to break the news to her husband– her time as an expectant mother would never completely be her own, given the station she had now married into.

But this, this moment could be hers and his. It would be theirs alone.

And so, she sat in wait at the training grounds, watching him as he expertly maneuvered his sword and slashed at his mentor, Ser Cole. Dodge, lunge, slash. Dodge, lunge, slash. Dodge, lunge–

Ser Cole had bested him, having noticed the predictability in his movements. Aemond of course, being the headstrong man that he was, refused to give up. The anger in his face at being won over in a fight did not escape her, and she would be lying if she said it did not awaken desire in her once more. Before she could think further however, one of the lords in the audience had piped up.

“Perhaps the Prince would benefit from a token of luck from his dear lady wife!” He said, and the watching crowd around them seemed to agree as they cheered and whistled. Aemond was flummoxed, not knowing how to cope with being faced with the topic of his wife while in the middle of a fight. It was only then that he noticed her, red-faced and smiling as she was– before he could say anything, she had taken the lead.

“I’m afraid I’ve come empty handed, my lord. I’ve nothing to offer him right now!” She quipped with a smile. It had warmed him to know that she was jovial enough for the two of them, allowing him the luxury of staying quiet as she became his champion during situations like these.

“Ah well, he knows you’re here now, Princess! If that does not add to his fire, I do not know what will!”

Perhaps it was her presence, or it was his own prowess as a swordsman. But Aemond was quick to come through this time around. The crowds cheered for their Prince, and so did the man who had taught him to be all that he was.

“Well met, my prince,” Ser Cole said. He patted her dragon prince on his shoulder and walked over to where the swords were arranged. Aemond quickly followed in reverence to his teacher, one that he did not freely give to most. Soon after, the crowds had dispersed, and she watched as his slender, tall form stalk towards her.

“Since when do you frequent the training grounds, wife?”

“Can a wife not seek her husband out when she wants to?”

She could not have imagined rhetorics like these tumbling out of her mouth in the initial days of their union. But they were now closer than they had ever been, and she had discovered that it would not hurt to take initiative, especially given how quiet of a man her husband could be.

He was not the charming prince from the books or the songs, but she certainly loved who he was– inquisitive, considerate and respectful.

“Hm. Perhaps.”

Their walk back to their apartments was a slow and quiet one, with her knowing that he preferred his moments of quiet soon after his training. They soon settled into the solar, with the food spread out for them to break their fast.

As was his habit, Aemond stripped himself of his clothes as she checked the water in the tub with the tips of her fingers, water rippling as her hands moved. He was quick to step in and let his hands rest on either side of the tub, his legs ramrod straight but slowly loosening up as she ran a washcloth over him with a gentle softness that is most unlike him.

Her hands glided over his chest, arms and he caught hold of her when her hands moved to clean his neck, beckoning her to come closer. “My dutiful little flower, hm? Come to assist her husband and answer his every beck and call.”

“I am nothing, if not dutiful.” She said, playful smile teasing him as her breasts threatened to spill out of the neckline of her dress– causing his cock to half-harden at the sight. She kissed his cheek and set the washcloth down, hands traveling to his alabaster hair as she ran her fingers through it, allowing her wet hands to trudge through. When she was done, he was quick to pull at her hand from his side, causing her to bend to meet him, eyes to eye.

“You have a council meeting to get to, husband. Now is not the time.”

She knew very well what he wanted. It was what she wanted too– which is precisely why her own protests meant absolutely nothing to her as she gave in, dress riding up to her thighs and billowing wet in the water as she straddled him. Her cunt was already soaked for him, and he was hot and ready from all the energies that training seemed to have put into him. She rocked her hips forward and backward, adjusting to his girth, while sighing and breathing at the feeling of having him in her. It did not matter how many times he’d taken her, she would never get used to feeling so full.

Soon enough, he had her held harshly by her waist in a bruising grip, his teeth nibbling at her sensitive nipples as he moved her up and down, up and down, up and down. The water crashed out of the tub like waves crashing onto shore and she was quick to fall apart in a mix of pain and pleasure, moaning his name in her broken voice, followed by a silent scream. His release followed soon after, cock twitching in her as he drew her closer, closer and closer still. When she felt his cock soften after a time, she got up and he let her, following close behind.

“You fought well today, husband.” She said, in a feeble attempt to coerce a conversation from him as they sat at the table. He was a man of silence, and she was not. He did not prefer it, but she would try anyway - because there were times when he indulged her.

“Hm. Thank you.”

The smell of cut fruit was intoxicating to her, more so than usual. She had heard of women craving peculiar kinds of food during their time as expectant mothers, so she supposed that this may have to do with the little dragon that she now grew in her belly. The rest of their time eating moved in a swift silence– a comfortable one. The only sounds they heard were of the servants in the corridors and the birds chirping from out the window.

When they finished, the trays were taken away and he got up, ready to leave to sit in on the council meeting that his grandfather had called him for. He was halfway out the door after nodding to her when she took his hand, and he stopped.

Her hands held onto his as tightly as they could, and she was skittish as she continued to look down at the floor. By now, he knew her quirks well enough to know that she did that only when she wanted to say something.

“Go on.” He urged her as his other hand reached for her too.

She drew in a sharp breath as she bit her lip. “I… I am with child, husband.”

She did not know what to expect from him of her news– but his silent sigh and slight smile as his hands reached down to cover her belly in his hold is enough of a reaction. “Thank you,” he said, his gratitude and happiness made obvious– to her, even if not to anyone else. She did nothing but smile as his forehead met hers in a soft touch– their touches were always passionate and rough while in the privacy of their chambers, so it was peculiar for her to be treated this way. She found that she enjoyed it, just as much as she enjoyed being roughly handled by him.

She then stretched the fingers of one hand, revealing a little silk patch, a little tourney favor with a rose stitched on it. A flower, from his little flower.

“I know you do not prefer tourneys, but… it is my hope that you would at least keep it with you while you train.”

His hands ran over the soft silk, fingers tracing the intricate patterns that she had clearly taken her time with. He was quick to smoothen it out and pocket it, following it with a kiss to her lips.

“Thank you, for everything.”

The favor was only meant for the training grounds. But a week later, when she found it peeking out of his pocket while they walked around the gardens, she smiled. Soon, she found out that he kept it with him all day.

Flowers came to Aemond in multiple shapes and forms throughout his marriage, and the fourth flower that she gave to him, came to him in the form of a favor with an embroidered rose, one that he kept on his person at all times.

There was something to be said about the comforts of silence.

Her husband was not a smiling man, nor was he an ardent conversationalist. Being a woman who leaned towards being both, she had begun their marriage with the intent of treading lightly, lest she annoy him or risk having him dismiss her halfway through. And she did try; Gods knew that she did.

Royal marriages were a sacred duty– those held in its sanctity would have to hold themselves to a higher standard, no matter how much it hurt them. With that being said, she was eternally thankful for Aemond understanding her preferences and trying to meet her halfway. She had been prepared for a man who would coldly dismiss her and her wants, but she had not been prepared for one that would actually want her.

One of the greatest pains of being born a noblewoman, she supposed, was that happiness in itself, was a privilege– one that she wished was not as such. She wished for it to be an easy thing to have, and as such, understood that she had been blessed with a quiet and peaceful marriage - one that did not take from her more than she was willing to give. It did not matter how many times she thought it over– she never failed to be as grateful as she was at the first realization, many moons ago.

These were her thoughts as she accompanied her husband in the library. Aemond sat opposite her, on the other side of the table with his finger running over the texts of the Summer and Winter Annals, deeply engaged in the knowledge that the book had to offer on the now lost Kingdom of Sarnor, once a famed trade partner of Valyria.

The fresh assortment of flowers lay haphazardly on her side of the bench, while she worked towards entwining them all onto the coir to make a crown. She often stole a glance at her husband as she repeatedly adjusted herself on her seat, one that was bigger than her usual one - to accommodate her, and the babe that she now carries.

An heir, a royal heir. There is dragon blood in you now, he had said.

She felt it, what with her babe’s constant reminders - boy or girl, the kicks were hard and swift, and it never failed to take her by surprise.

Aemond was a very fast reader, she gathered. His pages turned a lot faster than hers did, and his eyes never stuck to one part of the parchment for long - they flitted about and were restless, aiding him in his desire to learn as much as he can in the least amount of time. They have been married for half a year by now, and yet she manages to learn something new about him every day.

Her deft fingers worked through the stems of the flowers, piercing the sharp ends of the coir through them. In and out, in and out, in and out, she went - establishing a pattern that she ended up memorizing, whether she was cognizant of it or not.

Aemond stood up as he noticed a guard waiting near the doors, summoning him on behalf of the King. Her crown was now completely done, and she admired her handiwork as she twirled it in her finger and smiled. Aemond was now speaking to the guard as she ran the tip of her fingers over the petals. She brought it closer to her nose to smell them - the flowers were not as fragrant as they were once before, but there was a faint scent that she adored.

He nodded, and she could not help but smile again as he approached her. It struck her harder with each moment, how the Gods had blessed her with him - him with his infinite knowledge, calm disposition and otherworldly beauty. She wondered if the babe she carried would look like him - she hopes, hopes and hopes that they would.

He took the crown of flowers in his hands and handled it with the same care that she put into making it. It looked thoroughly out of place, yet so at home in his hands - much like herself.

A mildly happy lift at the edge of his lips caused a sharp dimple - one that made him look harsh, content and menacing at the same time. She may have wished for a Prince from the songs all the moons ago - but right now, she could not help but think that she had been blessed with someone greater, even if she knew that he did not believe it himself.

He placed the crown atop her head, crowning her. She remembered wishing he would crown her Queen of Love and Beauty at the twins’ name day tourney - but at this moment, as his fingers glided over her smooth hair to set the crown of white roses into place, she was happier than she could have ever been at any tourney.

“Escort the Princess safely to our chambers,” he ordered, after rubbing her growing stomach and giving her a kiss on her temple before going to meet the King. She stood slowly, and noticed that one unused and withering flower had been left behind. The air from outside the castle gushed through the windows, and it was purely by instinct that she grabbed it by the stem and placed it inside the pages of Aemond’s book before the pages flew - so it would be marked and he could begin where he left off if he so wished.

Long after her exit, Aemond came back to his bench after finishing his meeting with the King. He noticed the protruding stem, and he could not help but feel the warmth coarse through his chest as he opened the tome and found the withering flower pressed inside.

Flowers came to Aemond in multiple shapes and forms throughout his marriage, and the fifth flower that she gave to him came to him in the form of a dried rose, one that he kept tucked safely inside his favorite book.

It was moments like these that made Aemond believe in anyone but himself.

Being able to love someone blindly was not a gift that Aemond ever found himself capable of giving. Ever since the loss of his eye, he had grown to be full of spite and resentment, believing that having his dragon was enough to make the loss of company around him worthwhile. Nobody knew how to speak to him anymore– how does one comfort a boy who could only see half the world around him?

And then, she came to him. His wife.

With her free smiles and open heart, she had made her way through into the center of his. He found that he preferred her there, where she belonged. She had made her home in his heart, and he marveled at how despite not matching up to her in any way that mattered, she had found it in herself to allow him to take shelter in hers.

It brought him shame to think of how they could have fallen in love much sooner if he had been open to her affections and not been so wrapped up in his own presumed fallacies. But with time, he learned that in a world where marriages remained cold until the bitter end, a late bloom of happiness was a gift that he should learn to treasure.

It is a girl. Do not ask me why I believe so, husband. I simply do, she had said.

The tomes say a bigger belly is indicative of a boy. I read it, he had countered then.

He stood corrected. Aemond would tell the entire realm that his worldly knowledge did not stand a chance against his wife’s intuition– the little girl he held in his arms was enough support for his claim.

She slept soundly in his arms as he sat in his chair by the hearth. His wife, tired from her taxing labors, had taken to sleeping through most of the last three days, and he had not left his daughter’s side, not once.

He held her head as his mother carried her for the very first time, eyes shining in joy as she thanked them both for making her a grandmother once more. There were very few things that gave Alicent Hightower joy, and watching her children have babes of their own was one of them.

He rested the tip of his fingers over her smooth and frail silver hair as his grandfather took a good look at her, allowing himself a moment with his guard down. Aemond had not seen his grandfather look at anyone with such reverence, not unless it was Helaena, Jaehaera or his own mother. And now, Aemond suspected that his grandfather, for all his cold demeanor, did have a soft corner in his heart for the women of his life.

He had towered over the crib as the twins took turns gawking at her, after spending hours begging to see their new cousin. Aemond brought them after they promised to not make too much noise– both mother and daughter were fast asleep. Jaehaera had asked him if she could braid her hair when she grew some, and Jaehaerys poked at the new babe's nose (her mother's nose) with his thumb in curiosity. Aemond laughed, for he was intrigued by her too– only, it was better contained.

He held her tightly to his chest with his hand over her head as Aegon came to meet his newborn niece– completely sober and bathed, upon Aemond’s threats of murder if he came anywhere near his babe with his foulness. He smiled as he dropped the little dragon toy in her crib, looking over at the exhausted mother who could barely keep her eyes open. Aemond’s one eye followed his brother’s then, and visibly softened at the sight of his wife. Aegon laughed and quipped, “I never thought I’d say this brother, but I suppose you do wear the lovestruck look well.”

He had rocked her in silence as Helaena cooed at her, elated at the thought of becoming an aunt to a niece. This family is in dire need of more women, she had mumbled absentmindedly once. “She’s beautiful,” she whispered and Aemond enthusiastically agreed.

She is beautiful, and she is his. His own daughter, given to him by his own wife.

In the nights, when he was left alone with the women around whom his entire world now revolved, Aemond let tranquility take him. And it was in moments like these, that he learned to love them both with all that he had– blindly, and unconditionally.

It was in moments like these, that he learned to believe.

Flowers have come to Aemond in multiple shapes and forms throughout his marriage, and the sixth flower that she gave to him, came to him in the form of his little daughter. A little flower, from his flower.

The flowers kept coming to him throughout the many years that followed, and he valued every one of them– for they had all come from her, and they were all a part of her.

His flower. His wife. His very own.

NO TAG LIST. Please follow @randomdragonfics and turn on post notifications for all my fic updates!

MASTERLIST

4K notes · View notes

poojalate · 2 years

Text

Features of a zero minimum balance account

A savings account with minimum restrictions is a dream for the majority of the working class. You can deposit your funds in a savings account, which is a deposit account service offered by the bank. Typically, banks will provide you with a savings account as long as you keep a certain minimum balance in the account. If not, you'll be required to pay a maintenance fee.

However, some people start Instant Online Bank Account Opening to create an account known as a zero-balance savings account which does not require a minimum amount. Simple in concept, there is no requirement to keep a minimum balance in a savings account in order to maintain this kind of account.

Read some of the features of a zero minimum balance account:

No minimum balance

As its name would suggest, this account requires no minimum balance to be present in it. As a result, you are not required to keep a minimum balance. Therefore, if there is a zero balance, there is no penalty. When people open this kind of account, this is what draws them in the most.

Restricted transactions

The number of transactions you can make each month on zero-balance accounts is restricted. Banks often limit withdrawals to four per month. The bank will turn your account into a standard Savings Account if you do make more withdrawals than are allowed. For these additional transactions, some banks might even impose a small fee.

What are the different types of zero-balance accounts?

Zero-balance savings accounts come in a variety of forms. The three primary forms of zero-balance accounts are digital savings zero-balance accounts, Basic Savings Bank Deposit Accounts, or BSBDA, and BSBDA Small Accounts.

The e-KYC procedure allows for the immediate opening of digital savings accounts online. To open the account, you must have a PAN card and an identification number. In this process, the OTP issued to the registered mobile number is used to verify the biometric information. These accounts initially have some limitations under central bank standards.

Economically challenged people without bank accounts who possess the required KYC documents can open a Basic Savings Bank Deposit Account or BSBDA. This requires zero balance.

Performing Instant Online Bank Account Opening for BSBDA Small accounts can be opened by those without the necessary KYC documentation with the aid of an introducer. Small savings account holders are limited to holding a certain amount. Additionally, consumers have a year to submit the necessary KYC documentation.

A limited number of savings accounts

According to new restrictions issued by central banks, there can only be one zero-balance account at one bank. Additionally, if you have a zero-balance savings account with one bank, you are not permitted to have any other savings accounts with that bank. You must provide a declaration to the bank saying that you do not already have a zero-balance savings account with another bank when you apply for one.

Final thoughts

While having its own benefits, a zero-balance savings account may have an impact on your financial situation. An Account Opening App is helpful if you encounter unanticipated financial situations that require numerous withdrawals. Having a minimum balance in your savings account may therefore be advantageous.

#kotak #kotak811 #Instant Online Bank Account Opening #Payment Bank #Digital Account Opening App #Online Bank Accounts Opening #नेट बै��किंग #नेट बैंकिंग एप्प #Banking App #Money Transfer #Bank Account Check #Online Digital Account Opening #Online Open Bank Account App #Bank Open Account Online #Online Bank Account Opening App Sbi #Digital Account App #Open Saving Account Online #Zero Balance Account Online #Instant Open Bank Account

1 note · View note

deyonehogg · 5 months

Text

open zero balance bank account

The Kotak Mobile Banking App, a best in class App, provides banking on the go, which is a must in today’s digital era. If you are not an existing Kotak customer, you can open a Kotak Savings account or an 811 digital bank account by visiting your nearest branch.

Source : https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.msf.kbank.mobile

online bank open account

#saving account opening #mobile banking #online open account #apply online account opening #digital account opening app #best online account opening #open bank account online free #zero balance account opening app #online bank open account #zero balance savings account online #online open saving account #zero balance account opening #instant account opening app #account online open

0 notes

doumadono · 3 months

Note

Bakugo being a porn streamer (for Sinful Sunday)

Warnings: smut with plot, rough smut, pussy fingering and eating, cunnilingus, missionary, creampie, fem!reader, male masturbation, squirting, public sex, only fans & pornhub mentions, porn stream, Bakugo has OnlyFans account

A/N: this request got the second highest number of votes during the Sinful Sunday poll I held over a week ago. Thank you to everyone who voted!

SINFUL SUNDAY MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST - PART II

The cityscape glowed like a thousand gems scattered across a dark velvet blanket, each light a testament to the life teeming below.

Katsuki Bakugo strode through the bustling streets, the remnants of his patrol echoing in the satisfied murmurs of bystanders he had saved earlier. His fiery eyes scanned the horizon, mind already drifting to the solace awaiting him at home.

Reaching the sleek, modern building that housed his penthouse, Bakugo nodded curtly to the doorman and made his way to the private elevator. As the doors closed, he allowed a small, rare smile to touch his lips.

It had been a good day — no major catastrophes, no near-death experiences. Just another day of being the best hero the world had ever seen.

The elevator chimed softly as it reached the top floor.

Bakugo stepped into his luxurious apartment, the space a perfect blend of modernity and comfort. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a breathtaking view of the city, and plush furnishings invited him to relax. He shed his hero gear with practiced efficiency, revealing the chiseled body beneath — one that had become almost as famous as his explosive quirk.

Padding barefoot across the cool hardwood floors, Bakugo headed to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. He took a long drink, his thoughts wandering to his evening plans.

It had started as a joke, really — a whim born from boredom and pure curiosity. One night, he had filmed himself getting off, his muscular body glistening with sweat, his deep, guttural moans echoing in the silent room. On a lark, he had uploaded the video to his old Pornhub, expecting nothing in particular.

To his surprise, the video had gone viral. Within days, he had amassed thousands of fans, all clamoring for more. At first, Bakugo was amused. Then intrigued. And finally, he saw an opportunity. He was a hot man — he knew that. And if people wanted to watch him, if it made them happy and he enjoyed it too, then why not?

With the success of his initial video, Bakugo had created an OnlyFans account, eager to capitalize on his newfound popularity. It had been an instant hit. Fans flocked to his page, eager to pay for the privilege of seeing him in more intimate, exclusive settings. The subscriptions rolled in, and Bakugo found himself enjoying the attention, the adoration. It was a different kind of thrill, but a thrill nonetheless.

Bakugo set the water bottle down and made his way to his bedroom. The room was dominated by a large, king-sized bed draped in dark, luxurious linens. A camera was set up on a tripod in one corner, pointed directly at the bed. He moved with confidence, stripping off his clothes and tossing them aside. Naked, he admired his reflection in the full-length mirror. His body was a testament to years of rigorous training — every muscle defined, every inch a work of art.

With practiced ease, Bakugo positioned himself on the bed, adjusting the camera angle until he was satisfied. He grabbed a small remote from the nightstand and turned on the camera. The red light blinked to life, and he took a deep breath, letting the anticipation build. This was his stage, his audience waiting eagerly on the other side of the screen.

He opened his laptop, navigating to his OnlyFans account. With a few clicks, he started a live stream, watching as the viewer count began to climb rapidly. The chat box exploded with messages, fans greeting him eagerly, their excitement palpable even through the screen.

"Hey, fucking perverts," he greeted, his voice low and rough, tinged with the cocky confidence that had made him a hero. "It's your favorite pro hero, back for another round."

He ran a hand down his chest, fingers tracing the hard lines of his abs. He knew exactly what his fans wanted, what they craved. And he was more than happy to give it to them. His hand continued its descent, skimming over the taut skin until it reached his cock. Already semi-hard, it twitched in his grasp, responding to his touch.

Bakugo leaned back against the pillows, spreading his legs slightly to give the camera a better view. He stroked himself slowly at first, his grip firm but teasing. He knew how to build the anticipation, how to draw it out until he was practically vibrating with need. "You like what you see?" he growled, eyes locked on the camera as if he could see his fans watching. "Bet you wish you could touch me, huh? Feel how hard I am for you, little perverts?"

The chat box lit up with eager responses, fans egging him on, praising his body, his performance.

God, you're so hot!

I've been waiting all day for this.

Take it slow, Dynamight, make it last!

His eyes scanned the comments, searching for one particular username: sweet_daisyxxx. Amid the flood of adoring messages, he spotted it.

sweet_daisyxxx: You look amazing tonight, Katsuki

A rush of heat surged through him at the sight of your comment. He smirked, a new surge of energy coursing through him. His hand moved faster, strokes becoming more insistent. Pleasure coiled in his belly, hot and demanding. He was stroking his cock from base to tip, picturing you moaning his name.

For Bakugo, starting an OnlyFans account had been a natural progression from his initial success on Pornhub. He'd always had a hard time settling down, despite his status as a pro hero and his undeniable attractiveness. His standards were high — too high, perhaps — and no woman had ever met all his requirements. His relationships invariably ended in one-night stands, fleeting and unsatisfying.

He had begun to find solace in the digital realm, exploring the myriad of content creators on OnlyFans. He followed the accounts of the girls he found hot, drawn to their beauty and charisma. It was a distraction, an addiction of sorts, but one he didn't mind. It filled a void that real-life encounters couldn't, offering a tantalizing escape from the pressures of heroism.

Then he came across your account. It was different from the rest. Yes, you were a camgirl yourself, you had a beautiful body, a captivating presence, but what set you apart was your approach. You didn't reveal everything, always touching yourself through the thin material of your lacy panties, always keeping your face off the camera, maintaining an air of mystery and intrigue while you played with yourself. Your streams were a mix of sensuality and intellect as you were trying to engage your small but dedicated follower count in discussions about literature, history, fashion, and the changing world. You were a tease, undoubtedly, but it was your depth that held him captive. Bakugo lingered on your page longer than he intended, entranced by your intelligence and charm. Your body was a work of art, but it was your mind that ensnared him. Not to mention you happened to be his biggest fan.

sweet_daisyxxx: Those muscles look even better up close. You're incredible, Katsuki

His eyes flicked back to the chat, watching as your other comments rolled in.

sweet_daisyxxx: That growl you made just now? So hoooot, oh Gosh... Don't stop

Bakugo was incredibly turned on, imagining the taste and feel of licking your cunny. Even though he had never truly seen your pussy, the lingerie you wore on your streams left little to the imagination, perfectly outlining the curves of your folds. He couldn't help but think your pussy must be the prettiest one. What sounds would you make riding his tongue? Where would you want him to cum? On your face? Mouth? Tits? Maybe you would want him to save it for your pussy?

sweet_daisyxxx: Wish I could be there to touch you, feel every inch of you

His breath hitched, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure through his body. He could feel himself getting close, the familiar tension building with every stroke. His fans loved it when he talked dirty, loved the way he lost control on camera. And tonight, he was more than willing to give them a show. "Shit, I'm so close," he groaned, head falling back against the pillows. "You want to see me come undone, don't you? You want to watch me lose it for you?" His hips thrust faster into his rough palm.

He worked on his dick energetically, holding his balls tight in his free hand, squeezing them from time to time. He moaned from the pleasure radiating from his throbbing dick. He could almost hear his fans' reactions, the collective intake of breath, the eager anticipation. And that thought pushed him over the edge. With a final, desperate thrust, he came, his seed hot and sticky over his hand and stomach. It gushed and bubbled through the wet tip of his throbbing dick, leaving a slick trail on his toned abs as he continued to thrust into his clenched fist. Spurt, spurt. The sensation seemed endless. Katsuki's breath hitched with relief, and his hips finally began to slow. Though his balls were drained, they kept clenching, desperate to empty every last drop of his cum. His head rolled back, mouth hanging open as he panted through the final throes of one of the strongest orgasms of his life.

sweet_daisyxxx: Yes, Katsuki, just like that. So hot. You're perfect

Bakugo lay there for a moment, chest heaving, heart pounding. He let the camera capture every second, every twitch of aftershock. When he finally moved, it was with a lazy, satisfied grin. He reached for a towel and cleaned himself up, his eyes never leaving the camera.

But even in the haze of post-orgasmic bliss, Bakugo’s crimson eyes returned to the chat, seeking your username again.

sweet_daisyxxx: That was incredible, Mr Pro Hero. Can't wait for next time ♥

He smirked, feeling a sense of satisfaction beyond the physical release. You were more than just another fan. And you intrigued him.

"Hope you enjoyed the show," he said, voice still husky with the remnants of pleasure, his words directed toward you from all of his fans. "I'll see you next time."

He ended the live stream and lay back against the pillows, a sense of contentment settling over him. This was his life — a hero by day, a star of OnlyFans by night. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

Bakugo lay back against the pillows, his body still thrumming with the afterglow of release. The chat window on his laptop blinked out, and he reached over to close it, his thoughts already drifting to the next interaction he craved. He grabbed his phone from the nightstand, his fingers moving with practiced ease as he navigated to his messages.

He found your name quickly — sweet_daisyxxx.

Your conversations had become a regular part of his routine, an escape from the relentless demands of hero work and the empty satisfaction of countless one-night stands. With you, it was different. You talked about things that mattered, things that challenged his mind and made him feel alive in ways he hadn't expected.

Horny_Dynamight: Wanna FaceTime?

There was a brief pause before your response came in.

sweet_daisyxxx: m’kay, give me a min

He waited, the seconds ticking by with a tense anticipation. Finally, his phone buzzed with the incoming call. He accepted, and your face filled the screen, your eyes bright with excitement.

You were seated in your gamer chair, the fitted black tank top you wore accentuating your curves. Your earbuds were in, and as you settled into the call, Bakugo couldn't stop his eyes from drifting downward, where the neckline of your top revealed the top of your beautiful breasts. The soft swell of your cleavage was tantalizing, and he felt a familiar heat stir within him.

"Hey, handsome," you greeted, your voice steady despite the underlying tension.

"Hey, hottie," he replied, his voice a low rumble. "So, how'd you really like the stream?"

You bit your lip, a teasing smile playing at the corners of your mouth. "It was amazing, Katsuki. You looked incredible. And the way you touched yourself… It was so hot."

His smirk widened. "Glad you think so." He paused, studying your face, the way your eyes sparkled with curiosity. "I was thinking, would ya like to join my next stream?"

You blinked, taken aback. "Join? How?"

He didn't hesitate, his response blunt and to the point. "For some nice fucking."

Your eyes widened, shock and excitement warring for dominance on your face. "Are you serious, Kats? I think I’m far outta your league…"

"Dead serious," he confirmed, his gaze never wavering. "We've been dancing around this for way too long. I want you on my stream. With me. In every way, Y/N. I can’t stop thinking about ya, for fuck’s sake."

You stared at him, the silence stretching out as you processed his proposition.

He wondered if he had pushed too far, if maybe he had read the situation wrong.

But then, your expression shifted, a slow smile spreading across your face. "Okay," you said softly. "When?"

His heart leaped, a fierce grin spreading across his face. He hadn't expected you to agree so quickly, but then again, you had always surprised him. "Tomorrow night. Same time. My place."

"Ok, but you’ll have to pick me up," you replied with a slight shrug of your shoulders.

When you finally hung up, Bakugo felt a sense of satisfaction settle over him. Tomorrow night would be a game-changer, a step into new territory that he was eager to explore. With you.

The next day, Bakugo's routine went by in a haze of expectation. His patrols were efficient but mechanical, his thoughts constantly returning to the evening ahead. He had spent the day thinking about it, every spare moment filled with thoughts of you, of finally meeting the person who had occupied his thoughts for so long. Katsuki pushed himself harder in the gym, needing the physical exertion to keep his mind from spiraling into endless scenarios of what might happen.

When the day finally drew to a close, he found himself back in his apartment, preparing for what felt like both a stream and a date. He made sure everything was perfect — the camera angles, the lighting, the room itself. And then, he drove to pick you up from the mall you set up as a meeting place.

Bakugo's heart pounded with a mix of excitement and nerves as he drove to the mall. This was the first time he was going to see you in real life, and the anticipation was almost too much to bear.

He pulled into the parking lot, finding a spot near the entrance. As he stepped out of the car, he adjusted his black, leather jacket, trying to look as casual as possible despite the literal butterflies in his stomach. He scanned the crowd, looking for you, knowing you would stand out even among the bustling shoppers.

And there you were, waiting near the fountain in the center of the plaza. You wore a girly white summer dress with a delicate floral motif, the fabric swaying gently with the breeze. Your white sneakers added a touch of casual charm to your appearance. As you spotted him, your face lit up with a bright smile, and your cheeks turned slightly pink with a blush.

Bakugo made his way over to you, his heart pounding harder with each step. When he finally stood in front of you, he could hardly believe it. You were even more beautiful in person. "Hey," he said after clearing his throat, his voice coming out rougher than he intended.

"Hey, Katsuki," you replied, your voice soft and filled with excitement. "It's so good to finally see you in person, Mr Dynamight.”

He nodded, his eyes taking in every detail of you, from the way your dress clung to your figure to the sparkle in your eyes. "Yeah, it is."

There was a moment of silence as the two of you took each other in, the reality of the moment sinking in. Then, with a smirk, Bakugo extended his hand. "Ready to get out of here?"

"Absolutely,” you replied, taking his palm as if you two were a real couple.

He led you to his car, opening the door for you before getting in himself.

As he drove, the conversation flowed easily, just like it did during your calls. You talked about everything and nothing, the comfort between you growing with each passing mile.

Bakugo couldn't help but steal glances at you as he drove. The way your dress highlighted all of your curves, the way the sun caught your hair, the way your laughter filled the car with warmth — it was all purely intoxicating. He reached over, his rough, large hand resting on your thigh.

You glanced at him, a playful smile on your lips. "Can't keep your hands to yourself, huh?"

He smirked, his grip tightening slightly. "Nope. And I don't plan to, sweet doll."

His touch was firm, possessive, his fingers occasionally squeezing gently and brushing your soft skin as he navigated the streets. Every time his hand moved, it sent a shiver of anticipation through you, the promise of what was to come making your heart race.

Finally, you arrived at his apartment. Bakugo parked and turned to you, his expression serious. "You sure you're okay with this?"

You smiled, reaching out to take his hand. "More than okay, Katsuki. I've been looking forward to this, actually. I just… It’s been a while since…”

“Hush, no worries, I’ll be gentle,” he whispered softly, reaching his hand out to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing slightly against your lower lip as he gazed into your eyes. With a nod, he led you inside the apartment.

The moment the door closed behind you, the atmosphere shifted. The tension that had been building all day exploded into action.

Bakugo reached for you, his hands cupping your face as he kissed you fiercely, all the pent-up desire pouring into that single moment.

You responded immediately, your arms wrapping around his neck as you kissed him back with equal fervor.

Your bodies pressed tightly together. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the raw need in his touch.

Bakugo's hands roamed down your sides, pulling you even closer until there was no space between you.

You could feel the hardness growing in his pants, pressing insistently against your lower abdomen as he pushed you on the nearest wall.

"Fuck," he muttered against your lips, his breath hot and heavy. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this." His hands moved to your waist, lifting you effortlessly as he walked towards the bedroom with you in his arms.

You wrapped your legs around him, the movement causing the bulge in his pants to press even more firmly against your clothed pussy. The friction made you moan, the sound driving him wild.

Bakugo kicked the bedroom door open, setting you down on the edge of the bed. He stepped back for a moment, his eyes raking over you with a look of pure hunger. "You look so fucking good," he said, his voice low and rough.

You blushed, but there was a playful glint in your eyes as you whispered teasingly, "Why don't you come over here and show me just how good?"

With a growl of satisfaction, Bakugo was on you in an instant, his mouth capturing yours once more. His hands moved with purpose, slipping under your dress to caress your soft skin. He paused, taking in the sight of you in your underwear. "Beautiful," he murmured, his hands tracing the curves of your body.

You got up and reached for him, pulling his leather jacket off and tossing it aside before working on the buttons of his shirt. His skin was warm and firm under your touch, the muscles rippling as you pushed the fabric off his shoulders. He helped you, impatient to feel your hands on him.

Once his shirt was off, you traced your fingers over his chest, marveling at the hard lines and defined muscles. "You're incredible, Katsuki," you said softly, your eyes meeting his.

He grinned, his hands moving to unbutton his pants. "You haven't seen anything yet."

As his pants hit the floor, your eyes were drawn to the impressive bulge pressing against his underwear. He moved closer, his lips locking with yours in a searing kiss while his body pressed tightly against yours. The feel of his firmness against you, combined with the fervor of his kiss, left your head reeling.

Bakugo murmured, "You know what I want to show on the stream?"

You shivered at the rough timbre of his voice. "What?"

"Mostly eating you out," he growled, his hand moving to caress your inner thigh, "and fucking you until you can't think straight."

Your breath hitched, the bluntness of his words sending a jolt of arousal straight to your core. “Are… Are you sure?" you asked, your voice trembling with anticipation.

"Yeah," he said, his eyes dark with desire. "I want everyone to see how good you can make me feel. How much we both want it."

You swallowed hard, the intensity of his gaze making you feel like you were burning from the inside out. "Katsuki..."

He kissed you again, hard and possessive. "So, what do you say?" he murmured against your lips. "You in?"

You nodded, your mind a whirl of desire and anticipation. "I'm in. Just…”

"Oh, quit being shy, doll. Just because you haven't shown yourself on cam yet doesn't mean you're a saint. We both know you're not. I still remember you moaning on the phone, telling me how you'd suck my dick during one of our calls."

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your racing heart. "Katsuki, I... I don't want my face shown on the stream."

He pulled back slightly, his eyes narrowing in confusion. "Why not? Are you ashamed of my idea?"

You shook your head quickly, cupping his face in your hands. "No, it's not that. I just... I don't think you want to be associated with an OnlyFans girl later. It could cause trouble for you. You’re a hero after all..."

His expression softened, and he cupped your cheeks in his rough hands. "I don't care about your fucking profession, doll," he said firmly. "I've developed feelings for you. You're more than a one-night stand for me."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, the sincerity in his eyes making your breath catch. "Katsuki..."

He kissed you deeply, his lips conveying everything he couldn't put into words. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours. "We'll do it your way. No face. I want this to be good for both of us."

You smiled, your heart swelling with affection. "Thank you, Katsuki. This means a lot to me."

He grinned, his hands sliding down to your waist. "Now, let's make this the best stream anyone's ever seen."

Bakugo adjusted the camera one last time, ensuring it was angled just right. He made sure only a slight part of your neck would be visible, keeping your identity safe while still capturing the raw passion of the moment. The red light blinked on, indicating the stream was live. He turned to the camera, his usual smirk in place. "Hey, fuckers," he greeted, his voice low and confident. "Got a special stream for you tonight."

Immediately, the chat exploded with messages, the viewers' excitement palpable even through the screen.

Bakugo! Who's the girl?

Is this for real? Bakugo's got someone with him?

Holy shit, this is gonna be epic!

Introduce her! What's her name?!!

Is she your girlfriend?!! omg Dynamight has a gf? I’m heartbroken!!!

We need details, Dynamight!

Bakugo glanced at the comments, his smirk widening as he saw the flood of questions about you. He enjoyed the attention. "Calm down, fucking idiots," he said, his voice a growl that only seemed to stoke the fire in the chat. "You'll get what you came for. That’s all. My girlfriend’s face stays out of the frame. Got it?"

You gasped as you realized he called you his girlfriend.

The chat buzzed even more, curiosity and excitement mingling in the rapid-fire messages.

Why hide her face?

Is she that shy?

Come on, Bakugo, just a glimpse!

Gosh, he said she is his gf, rip to my feelings :(

Damn, this is hot already

Just fuck that cunt already man

Ignoring the more insistent demands, Bakugo turned to you, his crimson eyes dark with desire. He leaned in, his rough, large hand resting on your thigh as he whispered in your ear. "Ready to give them a show?"

You nodded, your heart racing. "More than ready...."

With a growl of satisfaction, Bakugo's lips crashed onto yours, the kiss fierce and demanding. His hands moved with purpose, slipping under the hem of your dress and slowly lifting it over your head. “Lay down and relax,” he commanded in a whisper.

The cool air hit your skin, sending a shiver down your spine, but his touch quickly warmed you up. You obliged and lay down on his bed.

He broke the kiss just long enough to pull the dress off completely, tossing it aside before capturing your lips again. His hands roamed your body, exploring every curve with a desperate need.

You could feel the heat of his touch through the thin fabric of your underwear, his fingers tracing the lines of your body with an intensity that made your head spin.

Bakugo's hands moved to your back, deftly unclasping your bra and tossing it to the floor. He pulled back slightly, his eyes raking over you with a look of pure hunger. "So fucking beautiful," he murmured, his hands moving to cup your breasts.

You gasped as his rough palms squeezed them gently, his thumbs brushing over your nipples. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure through you, your back arching slightly in response. He leaned down, his mouth finding the sensitive skin of your neck as he continued to fondle your breasts, his touch both firm and gentle.

"Katsuki," you moaned quietly, your hands gripping his shoulders for support. The heat between your legs was almost unbearable, the anticipation of what was to come making your body ache with need.

His mouth moved lower, his lips and tongue tracing a path down your neck to your collarbone. "I want to make you feel so good," he growled against your skin, his breath hot and heavy. "I want everyone to see how much you need this."

You whimpered in response, your body trembling with desire.

His hands continued to explore, one moving to your waist while the other remained on your breast, squeezing and teasing your nipple. Bakugo's mouth soon found your nipple, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak before sucking it into his mouth.

You cried out, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer, the pleasure almost too much to bear.

He switched to the other breast, giving it the same attention, his hands and mouth working together to drive you to the edge.

The camera captured every moment, the slight part of your neck and the intensity of Bakugo's actions visible to his eager audience. The thought of being watched only heightened your arousal, the exhibitionism adding a new layer of excitement to the experience.

The chat was a blur of comments, the viewers enraptured by the display.

Damn, she's loving it!

Bakugo, you're a beast!

This is insane! More, more!

I can't take my eyes off this

Lucky girl, getting all of Dynamight’s attention

Bakugo pulled back, his eyes meeting yours with a look of pure desire. "I can't wait any longer," he growled, his hands moving to the waistband of your panties. He leaned forward, caught the waistband with his teeth and slid them down your legs, the fabric pooling on the bed as he knelt between your legs. He kissed his way up your thigh, his hands gripping your hips to hold you steady. "I'm going to make you come so hard on my fucking mouth," he promised, his breath hot against your skin. "And everyone is going to see how much you love it."

He pushed your legs further apart, exposing your glistening folds to the camera. The sight was mesmerizing, your arousal clear and inviting. Bakugo's eyes darkened with hunger as he took in the view, his fingers gently parting your folds to give the viewers a better look. "Look at that," he murmured, his voice filled with admiration. "So fucking pretty, and all fucking mine."

The chat went wild, the viewers unable to contain their excitement.

OMG, her pussy is beautiful ♥♥♥

Bakugo, you're a lucky bastard! I’m so gay for that bitch

This is the hottest thing I've ever seen

Look at those curves!

I can't believe this is happening live!

Ignoring the comments, Bakugo leaned in, his breath hot against your sensitive folds.

Your pussy was tight and firm. It was flushed with your desire, and its lips were damp with your slickness.

Your scent filled his nostrils and Bakugo growled as his cock twitched in his boxers, aching to be freed.

The first touch of his tongue sent a shockwave of pleasure through you, your back arching as you cried out his name. His mouth worked expertly, his tongue and lips finding every sensitive spot as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

His tongue reached out and gently licked from the bottom of one side up to the top. He flicked the pearl of your clit and then licked back up the other side of your lips before flicking it again. Bakugo placed his tongue at the base of your slit and slid it up between your puffy lips. He tasted and felt your juices pool on his flexed tongue as it slid up.

You tasted so good, so sweet.

His lips closed over your clitoris and he sucked on it, drawing a gasp from you and a buck of your hips. Bakugo pulled your pussy lips into his mouth and sucked hard on them. His warm tongue went as far inside you as he could reach.

Your juices coated his chin.

He slid his mouth back up to your clit and eased a finger inside you. He growled against you, the vibrations making your legs shake.

Your lips parted slightly as his thick, rough middle finger slid in between the folds of your pussy.

It reached in and he curled it up till he hit the top of your pussy. He yet again sucked your clit into his lips hard.

Suddenly, your legs squeezed together, trembling. “Katsuki,” you whined, arching your back.

Katsuki sucked hard on your clit, his teeth teased it and he flicked it with the tip of his tongue as he slipped two more fingers into your pussy. Soon, they were coated with your translucent slickness.

He kissed your pussy lips and sucked up all of your juices. The nectar from your climax covered his face and hand. It was delicious and he smiled as he looked up from between your legs.

"Katsuki…" you moaned, your fingers tangling in his ash-blonde hair as you pulled him closer, the need for release almost unbearable as you ground your pussy against his face. Your body tensed, your back arching as the pleasure crashed over you in waves, your cries filling the room.

Bakugo didn't stop, his tongue continuing to work you through your orgasm, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until you were left trembling and breathless; your juices spilling on his tongue, overlaying his mouth and chin as he drank all of your essence.

The chat was in a frenzy, the viewers unable to contain their excitement.

OMG, that was intense!

Bakugo, you're a god

I need a cold shower after this

More, more, more!

This is the best stream ever Shhiiit her moans are hot

Fuck, she super hot, you’re lucky, man

Bakugo pulled back, his lips glistening with your juices as he looked up at you with a satisfied smirk. Bakugo stood up, his hands moving to the waistband of his black Calvin Klein boxers as he undressed quickly, his eyes never leaving yours. He stepped out of his underwear, his hard length springing free.

You licked your lips, the sight of him making your mouth water with anticipation.

He climbed onto the bed, positioning himself between your legs as he looked down at you with a possessive hunger. "I'm going to fuck you so hard," he promised, his voice a low growl. Ever so slowly he pressed the leaking tip of his cock to the opening of your pussy.

"Ohhh fuck," you whimpered as Bakugo gradually penetrated your entrance. You sucked in a breath and opened your legs wider to grant him better access.

So slowly he pushed his cock further in until he was fully sheathed inside of you. Bakugo left his other hand at your throat as he began a slow pace, sliding almost completely away from you before plunging back in.

You moaned deeply, relishing the searing hardness of his arousal. Your velvety walls clenched tightly around him, drawing a slight widening of his eyes in response to your movements. His arousal felt like forged steel as he continued to thrust vigorously in and out of you. Your desire had escalated to the point where it now glistened on the insides of your thighs and his toned abdomen, the soft, wet sounds filling the air each time he withdrew and then thrust back into your cunny.

Bakugo's lips captured yours passionately, his kiss fervent and insistent. He nipped at your tongue and the corners of your mouth, each bite sending sparks of pleasure coursing through you, melding the physical intensity with a deep, consuming heat.

A sharp yank on his blonde strands pulled his mouth from yours, and you looked into his crimson eyes. “Harder,” you begged.

Bakugo’s face transformed from an expression of animalistic need to one of desperate pleasure. He set a relentless pace, his hips driving into you with a fierce intensity.

Sweat began to slide in droplets between his shoulder blades and broke out over his forehead. A single drop fell from the tip of his nose and splashed onto your soft belly and you gasped.

Your bodies moved together in perfect harmony, the pleasure building with each thrust.

Withdrawing, Balugo moved back into your tight pussy with full force again, and again. He sunk his teeth into the red mark he had made earlier where your neck met your shoulder and moved his body roughly against yours.

You wrapped your legs around his hips, somehow pulling him deeper into your pussy, causing small moans to fall from your lips uncontrollably.

"Katsuki, I'm going to come again," you whined, your body trembling with the intensity of the pleasure.

"Do it," he growled, his hips pistoning into you even harder. "Come for me. Let everyone see how much you need this."

With a final, powerful thrust, you shattered, the pleasure crashing over you in waves as your orgasm ripped through your entire being. You were trembling and quivering as Bakugo rubbed your slick clit faster and faster, making you squirm as you orgasmed. Your toes curled and uncurled with each movement, your pussy dripping wet as his massive cock hit your cervix with every thrust. Your breathing grew heavy, moans escalating in volume until you were screaming his name. Your entire body shook, legs trembling, hips bucking up to meet his thrusts. Your pussy dripped, juices spraying the bed and Katsuki's abdomen, the bed squeaking loudly, rocking with the force of his thrusts as you squirted. “Fuck!”

Bakugo thrust madly, groaning as he felt the tightness of your pussy around his cock begin to ripple. He cried out a string of curses as his cock spurted in a mighty gush. He thrust thrice more, cumming with each push until he was absolutely spent, milking your velvety walls with his creamy, thick semen.

As the aftershocks of your orgasms subsided, Bakugo leaned down, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. "You're incredible," he murmured against your lips, his hands cupping your face gently.

"So are you," you replied, your heart swelling with affection as you ran your hands though his messy hair.

Bakugo gradually withdrew, his movements deliberate and slow, savoring the last vestiges of intimacy. He watched with a mixture of pride and amusement as his thick cum began to dribble out from your spent pussy, staining his bedsheets. His gaze was intense, capturing every moment with a fierce satisfaction. Ensuring that every second was visible to his viewers, he turned slightly. "How'd you like that, fucking perverts?" he asked his viewers, his voice rough with satisfaction.

The screen was flooded with emojis, exclamations, and messages that scrolled past almost too fast to read. Fans were expressing their thrill and approval, many praising Bakugo's intensity and the raw, unfiltered passion of the display. Some commented on the sheer boldness. It was clear that Bakugo's actions had struck a chord, igniting a fervent buzz among the viewers.

Wow, Bakugo you never disappoint! Absolute legend! 🔥🔥🔥

What a beautiful squirt! That was INTENSE! Way to go, Katsuki!! 💥💥 😱 Can't believe what I just saw! This is why Bakugo's the best! Dude, that was wild!! 🌋 Loved every second of it!

Loved that, absolutely killed it Bakugo! Can’t wait for more! Ur girl is fucking lucky

Bakugo glanced back at you, and asked simply, "So? Ready for another round?"

#doumadonos sinful sunday 🔥#sinful sunday #bakugou smut #katsuki bakugou #bakugo x reader smut #mha bakugou #bakugou x y/n #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou #mha smut #bnha smut #bakugo smut #bakugou scenarios #bakugo x reader #anime smut #bakugou x you #bakugo katsuki #divider by cafekitsune

1K notes · View notes

dreaisgrayte · 3 months

Text

"Just Friends" Full Fic | Kyojuro Rengoku x Reader

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, 18+, smut, oral (fem receiving), fingering, kissing, heavy making out, biting, licking, nails, rough, creampie, breeding kink (discovery, love that for them), and masturbation with a toy (not specified)

Word Count: 6.5k

A/N: crouched over like a little gremlin writing this in my bed for the last 3 days. I hope it delivers what was wanted. I only finished it today thanks to K-pop and the aggressive words of my best friend. Thank you Enhypen and K <3

The apartment was usually buzzing with activity, the hardwood scuffed from countless couches pushed around on its surface. While others might think it dingy, you felt it added to the unit's story – besides if it weren’t for the scuffs you wouldn’t have gotten a killer discount. You’d kiss them every day if it meant saving you money. Though, if you were caught kissing the ground your roommates would never let you live it down. They’d probably nickname you splinter lips or something embarrassing like that. Speaking of your roommates, they’d left you alone with nothing to do. How dare they have other lives that don’t involve you.

You sink further into the couch, a bored sigh whoshing out of you. Mitsuri had gone out drinking with her cooking class, and Uzui was…somewhere, you honestly didn’t know. Kyojuro had a late shift at the convenience store, but he’d be home soon. Friday nights had been the very opposite of most of your friends, never planning extravagant outings. You much preferred the safety of a good book that you could sob about in the comfort of your own home. It was a simple yet fulfilling life. Besides, would a club let you do all the things to be done in one’s home? Short answer, no.

A brilliant idea sparks forth. You were bored and no one was home. You could always… “Hey YN, sorry I thought I’d be home later.” A voice calls from the entryway. You groan and flop back on the couch. Well, there goes that idea, and it was a good one. “What’ve you been up to?” Kyojuro tosses his jacket over one of the kitchen island stools as he walks toward the fridge. He’s unbuttoning his work clothes, distractedly looking over the schedule for tomorrow as he does so. You don’t mean to gawk, but it’s not like you hadn’t seen a little too much of Kyojuro being as you lived with him.

The man had a body like those paintings of Jesus, sculpted and rock-hard. If you were a man, Kyojuro would have given you many boners. Friendly harassment of course. “I was just about to invite all my other horny friends over to have an orgy.” You mutter out, glancing away from his near-open shirt before he catches you practically fantasizing about licking the sweat off him. This fucker was too good looking and you were a simple man…with simple desires.

Kyojuro’s gaze flips to you and that damn easy grin he always wore appears. He slips out of his shirt, hanging it over his jacket. “Mmm, well don’t stop on my account.” He teases, pulling his long blonde hair out of its updo. A little warm trickle of something akin to sexual frustration strokes its smothering claws through your system.

What you would do to just spread open your legs and have Kyojuro eat you out this instant is borderline insane, but you would let anyone fucking touch you. It’d been too long since you’d been able to let the carnal desire take over. Kyojuro was one of your good friends, you highly doubt you’d be able to enjoy his…tongue…fuck. You swallow hard as your gaze flits endlessly around the room. Were you so horny that you would fuck your friend? Mmm, yeah probably. You smile through the pain of not having someone to cuddle with. “You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

Kyojuro chuckles, stretching out his biceps and rolling his neck. “Oh. Seeing you get fucked senseless? For sure.” He shakes his head with a laugh but you nearly drop to your knees and beg him to let you take a picture of him shirtless for later. Christ, why does he have the body of a Greek God? His words send tendrils of hot want – need – through you. Making your pussy throb with hunger.

Conversations with Kyojuro were always teetering on what if. You were so far in the bit that you didn’t know what was the truth anymore. He could tell you that he wanted to fuck you until easter and your response would be ‘Jesus isn’t gonna be the only thing that’s rising again’. Then you’d both laugh and continue with your day. Unless he was serious and you just agreed to be his fleshlight for 3 months…which doesn’t sound like such a bad idea… No! “I don’t know Kyo, you might be too tempted to join in.” You jab back, leaning forward on the couch, the loose tank dipping ever so slightly to tease a bit of your red bralette. You don’t miss the way his eyes dip to follow the swell of your tits. A satisfied smirk replaces your teasing grin.

He spaces out for a beat before meeting your gaze. “Yeah…I,” His brows furrow, and adam’s apple bobs, before he turns around. “I have an early morning.” He quickly scoops up his clothes and salutes you as he walks toward the hallway of bedrooms. Your eyes narrow as you watch him. Nah, that was just what friends play around and say. You chuckle to yourself and head toward your room as well. No point in being awake if you can’t harass your friends. You pass by Mitsuri’s door, then you’re in front of home sweet home. Down just one door is Kyojuro’s room. Uzui shared a wall with the bathroom and closet, while you got two of the loudest people. Mitsuri with her music and Kyojuro… well sometimes you could hear him gaming, but there were moments when soft music was playing that you thought you could hear a little more. If you heard anyone fucking moan right now you were going to go mental. Full-blown chainsaw psycho killer, no one would be safe.

Maybe you should’ve gone out with Uzui when he offered earlier this morning. He obviously could tell you were more pent up than a mother shopping for Christmas presents. Maybe a nice stranger would help this whole situation blow over. Then you wouldn’t be tempted to jump Kyojuro. Yeah, maybe you could message that one guy from your English class.

You take out your phone and send him a quick text asking if he wants to hang out tomorrow. Hopefully, the vibes you were picking up on were correct and you could finally go back to being a normal human being with normal thoughts. Your phone buzzes and the words yeah, I’m free to do whatever appears on your screen. Whatever? Oh, this was going to work out perfectly.

+ + +

“I’m so happy you could make it.” Your words fall out with some excitement when Giyuu, the hot brooding guy from your English class walks through the front door. He observes all that he can before you take him by the hand to lead him to your room. “I figure we can game a little in here and…” You trail off, trying to sound suggestive and not too desperate.

Giyuu raises his brows. “So you want to prolong us having sex?” He inquires, pulling you closer to him with the hand still holding his. Your brows shoot up. Damn, were you that transparent, or did he just assume that?

Either way, your plan was working out beautifully. “That depends,” You drag your finger down his chest. He was built, but nearly as much as Kyojuro. Was he home? You couldn’t remember. You hadn’t seen him all morning. “How good are you with your mouth?” Giyuu smirks and turns you around to where your back is pressed into the door.

He licks up your jugular and plants small, sloppy kisses along your jawline. It was… something. “Does that answer your question?” He looks too pleased with himself so you don’t say anything. “You look so horny right now.” His hand is groping your breast and his other wraps around your waist. Did you? If there was a mirror across from you right now would you have lustful eyes? Glazed over from even just the thought of what was about to happen? No, you don’t think so.

You really wanted to have some fun, but at what cost? Giyuu was hot, and kind, but just inexperienced. You could always teach him…but you weren’t ready to invest so much energy into a once-and-a-while fuck. You wanted to be fucked so hard that thinking would be impossible.

You’re just about to say something to him when he’s back kissing you and moaning excessively. God, this guy needed some girl to teach him some things, but that girl was not you. “YN? I’m home, I brought hamburgers from that place you like so much!” Kyojuro calls from out in the kitchen. You squeak, but Giyuu either doesn’t hear Kyojuro (how?) or doesn’t care. Giyuu has managed to fumble your skirt up and play with the hem of your panties. Your pleas are muffled by his mouth still pressed against yours. His fingers slip inside your pussy and from the dull throb, you can tell there’s no moisture down there. Drier than unmoisturized lips in winter. He grunts and tries to move them around and a grumbled moan escapes your mouth as he – amazingly – swipes at your clit. “YN? Where are you?” Kyojuro asks and you can hear him walking down the hallway.

This had to be the most dreadful event of your life. Being pressed into your bedroom door by a moaning telephone pole and one of your close friends about to hear the most ungodly whining. Giyuu releases your lips, finally, and sinks to his knees. He puts a finger to his lips and dips his head under your skirt. Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head. You grab onto Giyuu and try to pull him up. “No! Giyuu, absolutely not! My roommate is right there.” You hiss, shoving him to the side. You move away from him as quickly as you can. “I’m sorry but we cannot do this right now.” You grumble, pinching the bridge of your nose.

Giyuu looks dumbfounded sitting on the ground where you had pushed him down. He blinks a couple of times before narrowing his eyes. “But you wanted me to fuck you.” It’s like he’s trying to put a God damn puzzle together.

You groan and point to your door. “Yeah, when my fucking roommate wasn’t about to hear you moaning like a green pornstar!” You fume, probably looking more exacerbated than you would’ve if you let him go through with it. Giyuu frowns.

“Fine, then I’m leaving.” He states, gathering himself into a standing position. You nod in agreement, gesturing to the door.

“Good, I’ll see you in class.” You sigh, flopping down on your bed. Giyuu gives you the oddest look but doesn’t say anything as he stomps out of your room. You hear Kyojuro mutter something to him and then the front door slam. A few seconds later Kyojuro is leaning against the frame of your door with his arms crossed over his chest.

The silence is thick and for a moment you think he must want to confront you about Giyuu. There wasn’t necessarily a reason for him to confront you…so why did you feel so guilty? Shame was pumping through your stomach. “Want to watch a movie?” Kyojuro offers. You glance up to meet his blank stare.

His gaze falls to assess the state of your clothing. Your skirt was still askew, your hair a mess, and your lips were swollen. He swallows slowly, trying to push down the thought of some guy having his hands on you. Kyojuro wasn’t jealous, no, he was simply… protective. Yes, that’s it. He was worried about you. Though… he couldn’t quite stop thinking about the small moan you let out. How someone like Giyuu managed to make a woman like you moan…he can’t fathom. Kyojuro would be able to have you only able to moan and shake in pleasure. He was so much better than that guy. “Sure. Just let me change into something more comfortable?” With a nod, Kyojuro slips back into the hall. A shakey breath leaves your body and you squeeze your eyes shut. You’d let your desire lead you too far. A distraction with someone you were comfortable with was sure to fix this heavy feeling.

It doesn’t take long for you to pull on a pair of sweats and a soft tank top. You grab hold of your current book, heading toward the living room. Kyojuro blinks up to stare at you as you curl your legs under yourself on the couch. “You brought a book?” He gestures to the book with his head.

A small smile lifts your lips. “Yeah, I thought I could catch up on some chapters after the movie.” You reply softly. Kyojuro chuckles and flips through some of his recommended movies.

“If you’d rather read I don’t mind.” He mumbles while reading over a description. You shake your head. If anything you wanted to spend as much time with Kyojuro as you could. He had that warm presence that made you feel like less of a shit person.

You set the book on the side table and turn back with a bigger smile for Kyojuro. “No, I really need a distraction right now and you’re doing a perfect job.” Kyojuro’s gaze flicks to you, his mouth twitching.

“Distraction aye? Anything for the lady.” He smirks.

The movie Kyojuro ends up choosing was at first glance, very cheerful and cute, but as the universe seemed to enjoy putting you in awkward situations – practically a porn scene started to play. Your eyes darted to see what his reaction would be, but it seemed he had none. His eyes were fixed on the screen, almost with rapt attention.

What you didn’t see is that Kyojuro was white-knuckling the arm of the couch. He wouldn’t dare look at you for he feared the worst would happen. You already had a fucking weirdo try to pleasure you, what right would he have to make a move? Wait, did he want to make a move? What even was this? His initial goal was to get your mind off of your awful decision-making, but ever since you stepped out here with a book in your hand and baggy sweats on, he was done for. He wasn’t even sure how the movie got to this point, he was too preoccupied with observing you out of the corner of his eye. At times he wondered how you could be so breathtaking without even trying. He was so fucked.

Thankfully, the scene ended and so did the movie. You almost instantly go for your book to avoid saying anything about how ‘enjoyable’ the movie was, but you don’t have time to grab it because Kyojuro leans over you, a soft smile dusting his features. Whenever the corners of his mouth quirk up in a casual smile it makes your stomach squirm with an uncomfortable feeling. “What are you thinking about?” He quizzes, reaching for something on the table next to you. You didn’t know what, you’d already forgotten what your name was. The warmth from his body seeps into your skin, his hot breath cascading down your arm as he speaks. You clear your throat and try to look at anything but the man next to you.

It had been 4 nice years of friendship. It burst forth from an unfortunate crush on a mutual friend. Turns out that friend was too stupid to realize he was manipulating you and leading you on. Crazy how that works isn’t it? “How I’m going to have to fire the assassins that keep failing every morning.” You grumble out, pretending to be fascinated with the upholstery of the couch. Kyojuro hums in amusement, opening the book – which was apparently what he grabbed.

He sets the book in his lap, reading over the page you bookmarked. “They just need more training, I’ve gotten skilled at fighting them off.” He shoots you a deadly smirk and suddenly it becomes a lot harder to swallow. Your gaze lazily follows the curve of his bicep, noticing how thick they seem. Were they hard to the touch? You’d heard muscles were sometimes flabby though. It was difficult to suppress the urge to just reach out and feel his arm. “My God YN, you actually read this stuff?” Kyorjuro blurts, holding the page closer to his face as if that would help him believe he was reading it correctly.

He pinches the spine of the book to close it with a shocked expression. You can’t help the bubble of laughter that escapes from your lips. Then – with horror – you realize he hadn’t bookmarked the page. “Kyojuro! The bookmark!” You practically jump over his lap to reach the flimsy piece of notebook paper you called a bookmark that was on the other side of his leg. You huff out a sigh when you finally have it in your hands, yanking the book from his hands to frantically find the scene you were reading. When the words start to look familiar you stick the paper in between the pages and set the book down.

Leave it to the least observant person to almost make you lose your place. You’re about to move back to your spot when Kyojuro shifts underneath you. You turn to slowly look at his face, but you’re met with the side of his face. You note the tip of his ear is flushed red and his eyes are darting to look at anything but you – splayed out over his lap no less. “This is surprisingly comfortable.” You tease, rolling your hips forward a bit with a smirk. Something similar to a whimper comes from Kyojuro.

“YN…” His voice strains with unrelenting thoughts coursing through his mind. How your ass looked right there over his lap. How heavenly your body felt on him, he especially liked the way your soft stomach felt like a cushion upon his thighs. It was crazy, you were driving him crazy. Finally, you sat up, but that was almost worse because now your face was closer to his. He could see your rosy cheeks, lustful eyes, and God – your fucking tight red tank top. He wanted it on the floor this instant, it would look better there anyway. He was fighting the urge to reach up and swipe away the hair that had come undone from the loose way you had it up.

“Sorry.” You chuckle bashfully, fixing your necklace. He didn’t miss the way the pendant fell between your breasts. He wanted to follow the delicate gold chain until you were moaning his name.

“It’s no problem.” He mutters absentmindedly. He both wished he could melt into the couch and bend you over it to fuck you mindlessly.

The way his mouth moves has always had this effect on you, but you were just friends. He felt so good under you, too good. “I’m gonna,” You glance down at the book in your hands. “Um, go finish this.” Then without another word, you scurry off to your room. You press your back into the very same door Giyuu had earlier. Only this time your heart was racing and your breath was erratic. What was happening? Did you…like Kyojuro? You always thought your conversations with him were on the verge of playful and downright sexual. You had similar jokes with Uzui and Mitsuri, but somehow this felt…different. Oh God, you did like him. You wanted to do unholy things to that man and then spoil him rotten with little gifts and quality time.

Shit. Fuck! This was awful! Now you needed a distraction from the distraction. You spot your nightstand drawer and glance at the door behind you. Kyojuro was still in the living room, so he wouldn’t be able to hear you… distract yourself.

You take a couple of steps forward and then rush to your bed, tossing the book haphazardly on your desk. You position yourself in the corner with a few pillows nestled around you. You bite your lip as you reach over and rummage around in your drawer until your fingers graze the glorious purple silicon you were looking for. You shimmy out of your sweats and panties, tossing them to the floor. You hiss in annoyance when you realize just how very wet you already are. “Mmm, fuck.” You moan as the round toy slips into your folds. It felt heavenly, but something was missing. “Haaa, oh my God, nngh.” You gasp out, the coils in your core tightening as the image of Kyojuro between your legs appears behind your lids.

Kyojuro quietly listened on the other side of his wall, his mouth slightly ajar. He swallowed a lodge that had formed in his throat. He should put headphones on, or do something to stop listening to you, but he couldn’t. Your next moan cracks into a whimper and it takes all his might to not barge in there and throw whatever you were using to the side. He was so desperate to show you what real pleasure could be like. He imagines your eyes rolling in the back of your head as he rams his cock into your tight cunt. It would suck him in like it never wanted him to leave. You’d be fucked out by the time he was on his first round, then he’d cum inside of you. Fill you up and watch his cum trickle out of you. He’d make you his whore and have you begging for his cock every waking moment.

He grunts, glancing down at his growing erection. You had driven him mad and you’d pay for it, of that he would make sure. Your moans grow erratic and he swears he can hear the wet slick of your pussy through the paper-thin walls.

The pumping becomes sloppy as you writhe in pleasure. “Mmmh!” You bite down, trying to stifle the whining moans slipping out of your throat. “Feels s’good.” Your words come out slurred and after a bit of teasing the rope inside of you snaps and your eyes roll shut. Shit, what a mess you made. You groan into your pillow, annoyed that you had to clean up.

Kyojuro rolls his lips into his mouth as he peers down. His hand is covered in sticky cum and his cock is still stiff with desire. Yes…what a mess you’d made indeed.

+ + +

You had the best night’s sleep in forever, waking up only when the sun was up. The shorts you’d thrown on last night had ridden up into your ass so you get out of bed to pull them down. There was also the sweet smell of pancakes that led you out into the kitchen where Kyojuro stands flipping some. You weren’t sure why, but he looked incredible doing so. He smiles when he notices you. “Morning YN,” His gaze lingers on the way the strap of your tank falls down your shoulder. You’re about to make a flirty remark when you spot your other two roommates observing you both from the breakfast nook. They both wear knowing smirks and whisper to each other. You roll your eyes and walk toward them.

“Hey strangers, when did you guys get home?” You inquire, sitting down across from Mitsuri. She grins, playing with one of her braids. Uzui chuckles while leaning back in his chair.

“Kanroji met this one guy and-” He’s shut up by Mitsuri throwing a pillow at him with flushed cheeks.

“Shut up shut up shut up!” She squeals. “He,” She pouts and bashfully meets your gaze, her lime green eyes sparkling. “He was so cool.” She sighs dreamily, smitten already.

Uzui gives her a blank stare and then his gaze flicks to you. Kyojuro sets down a plate in front of you, then the stack of pancakes near the middle of the table. Uzui follows Kyojuro’s movements with narrowed eyes. “And what have you two been up to?” He quirks a brow as Kyo sits himself down next to you. You both look up, meet each other’s gaze, then look away.

You stuff your mouth with a bite of fluffy pancake. “Nothing much.” Kyojuro decides to respond. As the taste fills your tastebuds you can’t help the little moan that escapes your mouth. Kyojuro’s movements halt, his attention trained on you. The others didn’t hear, did they? With one glance to Mitsuri and Uzui he could tell they were in their own world. “YN?” Kyo leans over to whisper in your ear. You gulp down your next bite, your eyes shutting for a moment. “I need you to stop moaning over my cooking.” He hisses into your ear.

Your heart dips in your chest. Was your enjoyment of his food having that much of an impact on him? You could have a little fun with this. You take another bite, humming in pleasure. Kyojuro’s eyes darken into deep amber swirls. “You having fun shoving that into your mouth?” He asks in a husky voice. You clench on nothing. The things his words alone were doing to you. He watches as your tongue darts out to lick up some of the syrup on your lips. “You’re being a brat.” He states.

You raise your brows and giggle quietly. “Yeah, that’s kind of the point.” Kyojuro nods in understanding. Without mention his hand grabs onto your thigh. His fingers play with the plush skin, molding it to his massive hand. “What are you doing?” Your voice is strained but Kyo just smirks, trailing his fingers higher up your thigh – grazing the point where your stomach overlapped. Dangerously close to the apex of your thighs and you knew at that moment, he was punishing you for pushing him so far. Even if this wasn’t real, just a friendly game, you were enjoying every second of it.

“Guys!” Mitsuri suddenly exclaims. You expect Kyojuro to move his hand away quickly but his pinky delicately strokes your covered pussy. You swallow nervously. “We should totally have a game night.” She clasps her hands together and bounces excitedly. “We haven’t done one in such a long time,” She continues.

Uzui sets his fork down and stands up with vigor. “What a great idea! We shall conquer the night with…Mario Party.” His magenta eyes narrow and he places a hand on his heart dramatically. “I shall be the victor again.” He states triumphantly. Mitsuri watches him in amazement, probably thinking, 'Wow, I wish I could declare myself like that! Uzui is so cool!’. She was so easy to read.

Kyojuro on the other hand, was literally focused on his other hand. He was kneading the flesh of your thigh and it felt weirdly amazing. “Careful Uzui, Mitsuri has been practicing ever since last time.” He chuckles. Tonight was going to be… you bite on your lip as Kyo presses his thumb to your pussy… fun.

The day passed with you spending most of it hiding away in your room, finishing the book you said you would last night. Mitsuri and Uzui went out shopping for snacks and drinks while Kyojuro had some errands to run. You had to reread the same page over and over again, your head spinning with thoughts of this morning. Was this really happening? Kyojuro and you? Did he like you? Did you like him?

You groan and shut your book. They should be home soon, it was getting late and you were lonely. “Sweetie we’re home!” Uzui yells as you hear the front door swing open. You roll your eyes at the timing. Walking out to the kitchen you find Mitsuri and Uzui excitedly emptying their shopping bags. Jack Daniels, Titos, Tequila Rose, and Mike’s Hard Lemonade. There are some stray soda bottles and a random bag of pretzels.

You slowly meet their pleased expressions. “What are we going to eat?” You inquire, your brows furrowing. Mitsuri waves your concern away with a giggle.

“Don’t worry, we called Kyojuro to handle the food.” She exclaims. You hum in approval, noticing that Uzui has already made his way over to the Nintendo, preparing Mario Party for tonight. Mitsuri pours three glasses and sets them down on the coffee table before flopping down in the recliner.

You watch as Uzui and Mitsuri drink and play a few rounds. Then Mitsuri insists they should go to the convenience store and you wait for Kyojuro to show up with the food. Not even a few minutes after they leave the one you were waiting for walks through the door. He sees you alone and tilts his head. “Left alone again?” He questions, setting down a few bags on the counter.

You shake your head. “Nope, I have you now.” You reply, a hint of playfulness in your voice. His lips form into a slow smirk as he starts walking over to where you’re sitting on the couch. He squats down, letting his eyes lazily look over the comfortable clothes you have on.

“Mmm, indeed you do.” He mumbles. Your heart is thrumming uncontrollably in your chest. You’re almost afraid he might be able to hear it.

“You uh,” His eyes instantly meet yours when he hears your voice. It makes it harder to talk when he’s looking at you so intensely. You break eye contact, gaze falling to your lap.

“No, YN, if you’re going to do this, you’re going to look into my eyes.” Kyojuro’s hand is under your chin, commanding you to see him.

“Do you like me?” You blurt. That’s not exactly what you intended to say but the words came out anyway. Kyojuro chuckles, his usually bright eyes darkening as he peered at you.

He wets his lips, sliding the hand that was under your chin up your cheek. Your breath hitches and that only drives him forward more. Before you know it his mouth is hot next to your ear. “Why do you want to know?” He asks in a hushed tone. You feel hot, so very hot. “Mmm, don’t worry, you don’t have to say anything, I already know. Your body is practically begging for it.” He uses his hand on your face to expose your neck, every movement antagonizing slow. The tip of his nose drags down your jugular and he stops just above your collarbone. His lips move along the sensitive skin, sucking and taking in the splendor of being this close to you. “To answer your question,” He starts, biting down on the junction of your neck and shoulder. A breath moan escapes your throat. He hums in satisfaction, moving back to your neck with kisses and tantalizing licks. “No, I don’t like you.” Then, he’s next to your ear, breathing heavier than before. “I crave you. Desire you. I cannot think when our eyes meet. You make me dangerous YN. Every second I am not with you I’m a depraved man. Hungry. Starving.” Kyojuro’s face is in front of yours, his eyes burning into yours.

This time you don’t look away.

You grab his cheeks closing the distance between your lips. The kiss is gentle at first, surprise and exploration guiding both of you before Kyojuro positions himself in between your legs, pushing you into the back of the couch. His breath is labored as he moves his mouth along your skin, planting kisses everywhere he can reach. He’s desperate, groaning into your neck. “Bedroom. Now. Or I’m going to eat you out on this couch until our roommates get home.” He growls and without a second thought your legs are wrapped around Kyojuro’s waist. You’re not sure how he’s watching where he’s going and making out with you. All you know is that soon your back is pressed into the back of his door. This time it’s hot and you intend to use the door for stability because this man is surely going to make your knees weak.

Kyojuro’s fingers are digging deliciously into the back of your thighs and his tongue is licking the spot he bit you earlier. It was all a bit overwhelming, the sensations, the emotions rolling around in your stomach, and the downright arousal dripping from your cunt. “God you’re so perfect.” He grunts into your shoulder, running his teeth along the curve and shape of it.

Your hands are buried in his hair, pulling him back up to your lips with needy fervor. You can scarcely breathe, but when you catch your breath for a moment it’s his name you moan out. “Kyo,” Between kisses, bites, tastes of bliss, and the teasing roll of his hips into the apex of your thighs you would whisper his name. He was all that mattered. The anchor to Earth and the center of your very being. His response would always be a soft, ‘I’m here,’ ‘good girl,’ or ‘fuck,’.

“Are you sure?” He gently connects your foreheads. A pleased smile morphs your swollen lips. “I don’t want you to regret this…us.” He adds.

You peck his lips, then decide to kiss him for a beat longer. “Kyojuro, I think we’ve established over the last few days that we are not just friends. I want you, all of you.” You reply gently. It’s like something in him snaps even more because the next thing you know you both are on his mattress.

“You drive me fucking crazy.” He hisses, shifting himself between your legs. His warm fingers hook onto the hem of your shorts, pulling them down and tossing them to the side with abandonment. He stares down at your red panties, getting lost in the way they formed your pussy perfectly and your body. “Take your shirt off.” He suddenly demands.

You choke out a laugh at the outburst. “You take your shirt off.” You playfully snap. He cocks his head to the side and pulls the black tee he had on over his head with one swift motion. You gulp down your words and grab the hem of your own shirt with both hands, yanking it off with a lot less grace. You hadn’t been wearing a bra because of being home all day so when your tits meet the cold air Kyojuro smirks.

“Hmm, you listen so well when you’re put in your place.” He coos, rolling his lips around in his mouth. “Now, for your reward, I’m going to eat this perfect cunt. Feel free to let me listen to those pretty little moans of yours, or,” He grins, laying down on his stomach. “Wrap these fucking thighs so tight around my head that I can’t hear anything. Okay, princess?” The air is heady as you watch him pull your underwear off. He halts for a beat, but presses your legs open for him and slides one of his hands down to open up your folds. You hiss out a breath as he grazes his teeth along your thigh.

His fingers slide into your entrances without any trouble. “So wet for me already baby, you want this so bad.” Kyojuro chuckles from his position. A breathy moan leaves your throat.

He pumps two fingers inside of you, playing with your walls. “F-fuck, right there, nnngh.” He hooks his fingers then his mouth is sucking on your clit. You almost scream, the pleasure shooting thick bands through your body. Your muscles tighten and so do your legs around his head. He hums in pleasure, the vibration sending shockwaves through you. “S-so good, oh my God, so good.” You can’t think. Words are just spilling out at this point.

Your legs start to shake as his tongue plunges deeper into your pussy, swirling around your sensitive clit. “Ah angh,” Your walls clench and pulsate around his fingers. “I’m fuck, I’m close,” Kyojuro pushes on your leg so he can move his tongue away and you almost whimper at the absence of it.

He starts to quicken his fingering, watching with a pleased expression as you writhe and clench. “That’s it baby, cum on my fingers.” He coaxes and with one more hard hook of his fingers you fall apart, convulsing with whimpers and whines. As you cum Kyojuro moves his mouth back to your pussy, lapping up your arousal. “You’re so sweet, fuck.” He hisses.

Your heart is racing, breath coming out in pants, you can barely feel your legs. “Kyojuro,” You huff.

He shits onto his knees with a lopsided grin. “Yes?”

“I need you inside of me,” Kyojuro blinks at you, then with a knowing smile works himself out of his pants.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll take good care of you.” He grunts, but you zero in on the very size of him. For a guy you’d known for 4 years, you would figure you’d be able to guesstimate how large his cock would be. Nope, he was so much larger than you expected. He lines himself up at your entrance and with a slow push, he’s stretching you out. You groan and latch onto his shoulders, digging your nails into his muscles. He shuts his eyes, a grunt rumbling from his chest. “Shit, you’re sucking me in. Look at you taking me so well.” He husks, rolling his hips into yours. It felt so good, the way you tightened around him whenever he moved like you didn’t want him to pull out.

Kyojuro starts to thrust, gentle at first but with time he picks up pace, ramming into you like he knew you liked. “You like that huh? Do you like me fucking you speechless? Ain’t got such a smart mouth on you now aye?” He spats, you can only whine in response. “Mmm, such a good girl for me. So perfect for my cock, fuck.” His movements become sloppy as he fucks into you. You gasp and tighten around him, another wave of pleasure crashing into you. That’s all it takes for Kyojuro to break, a cracking string of moans falling from his mouth as he cums inside of you. He collapses next to you, chest heaving.

“Do you think Mitsuri and Uzui came home during that?” You ask, voice hoarse from the previous activities. Kyojuro rolls his eyes and turns on his side to look at you.

You turn on your side too, feeling sweaty and sticky, but not caring much. You could feel his cum inside of you and honestly, it was a nice full feeling. You might’ve been a little too into the fact he came inside of you. Kyojuro wraps his arms around you and kisses your forehead. “I’m not sure, but I can go get you a towel if you want?” He replies, peering at you with a concerned expression. “I kind of made…a mess down there.” He mutters.

You giggle and shake your head. “Don’t friends clean up each other’s messes?” You joke. Kyojuro scoffs and rolls his eyes.

He smacks your ass and pulls you closer to him. “Yeah, but I kind of think we’re past the whole just friends thing.”

As you look into his eyes and feel the swell of happiness in your chest you realize he couldn’t be more right. You were never Just Friends.

722 notes · View notes