id like to go down on you until i see your soul leave your body
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@armsthrust
id like to go down on you until i see your soul leave your body
21
meme@pleasurepillarofnohr // #21
It was dress to impress, or just don’t bother. A nice shirt and a vest, accompanied with maybe too-tight pants and his best boots, as there was hardly a need to overdress for them. Noble parties were always sprung on them at the last moment possible, Nohr’s most respected letting themselves in with not so much as an announcement and requesting an audience with the prince and his council. At least, this time, they’d given them a little bit of a warning.
But, gods, did the women so love to talk over their husbands about their demands. Endless babbling about how the streets need more light and the riff raff outlaws need to be dealt with immediately before more manors get broken into. The wealthy ran Nohr, for what little it was, and Laslow could tell their iron fist wants were weighing down on an already addressed subject. It was no wonder he so loathed being the peacekeeper of this mess. Putting the daily schedule behind nearly and hour and half, they’d finally let themselves out to carry on with their lives of luxury, Laslow closing the office door behind them as they filed out with a half-annoyed sigh.
Empathy raises the corner of his lips, boots tapping the stone floor all the way over to the other side of his liege’s desk. Xander’s fingers pressed so hard into his temple, forehead lines creasing worn skin. Circling around to him, pushing loose, frazzled curls back behind the prince’s ear with a slight adjust of the crown to safely secure it, the question begs itself of ‘ Is there anything I can do ? ’.
Right in his lap is always the first destination, taken by the hand and guided right in without a second thought. More often than not, just the mercenary’s presence is enough to calm any storm set inside the other’s mind after these sorts of situations. What was soft at first turns carnal in the mere seconds Xander has him seated where he can reach him. Vest and shirt buttons pried open with expert ease, - as if he could almost do this in his sleep - kisses extending from his lips and drilled into his jawline with relaxed exhales in a rhythmic duo.
He was certain soon that his back would be well familiar with the stain and finish of Xander’s desk, being lifted and pushed back just so that the prince could have full access to every inch of skin that an open shirt could let him at. Always making a point to give full attention to the mercenary under him before letting his own clothes be tampered with in the slightest. Even if Laslow fought back, it wasn’t long before his wrists were knocked to either side of him to continue on his little escapade.
Cold air is combated only with the heat of Xander’s breath on his skin. Working his way up from the mercenary’s waistline, feeling the sensation of Xander’s tongue tracing the hem of his pants and tearing himself from it just when Laslow started to arch slowly up to his mouth. Open mouthed kisses ravish all across his stomach -- a trophy mark left here, another there -- skirting upward to his chest and taking a sensitive, erect nipple between his teeth. Sweet, shrill ecstasy manifests in a raspy moan, gracious with the attention he’d been getting but still so unsatisfied with that was lacking. Fingers coursing through the prince’s hair with light tugs in his fists -- gods he could only hope there was a plan for more . . .
❝ Are . . we’re not stopping here, r - right ? ❞
i want nothing more than to hear you scream my name
if the answer is ‘yes’ then for a gracious ♡ you can have a treat in your inbox
❝ Are you a board ?
‘Cause I’d sure like to nail you. ❞
A hint of hip
for stel because she and i are fujoshits for gerome/inigo lmao
I've said it before but I must reiterate that laslow is a serial ass slapper.
dlxm0nds
dlxm0nds
“I want you. Right up against the window.”
HE’D ALREADY FALLEN victim to the stray kisses that his prince had generously been pressing into his neck, bypassing a high collar and daring to whisper dangerous praise in the lowest voice he could manage. He was, in fact, aroused before Xander had ever touched him, muttering suggestive comments all before he lay hands on his retainer ( after a small invitation, of course ). Busied by pushing aside the blue of his tunic, doing what he must to coax it off of him is what Xander does best, in Laslow’s own opinion. He’s careful, he’s precise, and he seems to know exactly where to skirt across to raise the goosebumps and to send the unsubtle chill down his spine.
He can accept how his liege goes about things, letting him run his hands over skin he’s already conquered time and time before. Letting him ravage over and plan out just how to do this without the incessant teasing and the coy nature that is usually present from his flirtatious lover, make a mark, or perhaps five if he wanted – so long as he wanted.
Yet, he remains caught off guard the moment his feet leave the ground. The prince’s hands grasping onto his thighs to hold the minuscule weight of him around his waist. While one of Laslow’s arms hook around the other’s neck, the other moves to single handedly undo the top three buttons of his dress shirt, finding satisfaction in the glint of fair skin that only reddens with crass movement. Grinding against him with precision to ensure that he’s pushing right into his retainer’s growing erection, earning a rhythmic gasp and the flourish of pink rising to Laslow’s cheeks.
— ‘ I WANT YOU, ’ he says, and oh gods, he could say it a million more times. Laslow adores hearing those words, especially clothed in a lustful, husky growl to further paint the picture of just how badly, ‘ RIGHT UP AGAINST THE WINDOW. ’ Laslow knows that Xander loves to show off what’s his, leaving no room for question on just what – or who – belongs to him. So far as to take what’s his in the publicity of the glass, chilled panes with drawn curtains only inviting any passerby to view the show. While the mercenary had many reservations about being made a public display, he couldn’t deny his request, nor could he deny himself the expectant pleasure he would no doubt receive for agreeing.
And as if to further persuade him, hard kisses are given as incentive – pulling on his bottom lip all the while Xander carries him over to touch his back to the glass. Rubbing against him and one hand working to give his leggings a firm tug.
❝ Take me then, ❞ his voice cuts through as more demanding than suggestive, but at this point he’s desperate after the build up. He wants to be touched, to be kissed, to be fucked until the window behind him inevitably fogs up. He doesn’t want to have to beg for it, either, but his pathetic attempts at tightening his legs about Xander’s waist and circling his hips were seeming to get him nowhere.
❝ Please, Xander – I need you. ❞
@pleasurepillarofnohr
[eroschoros] You want to kiss me where?
@eroschoros
❝ Well, where ever you’ll let me, but if I could have my choosing . . I believe I said more kisses need to be between your thighs. ❞ Fingers skirting along her skin, his index and middle walking themselves up the barren porcelain that he’s managed to uncover. The smooth lining of her inner thighs are already heated as they’re moved apart, letting her adjust all the while his attention is fixated on making rivers with his tongue along the same path his fingers just mapped out.
Starting at her calf over his shoulder, making gentle notes along the curves of her figure. She’s beautiful -- and being able to worship her accordingly only makes him appreciate her beauty and her even more. He can feel her move to hook her ankle around his neck, and she gets a smirk out of him as he gradually, slowly gives way to speed his loving kisses into her thighs. Teeth sinking into the porcelain, marking up his territory for her not to forget -- as if she could, or would forget just who loves her the most. Branding her with his mouth and his love could only make her appreciate him more, after all.
But he stops ever so abruptly once he makes it to her desired destination, hovering over her with warm breath; letting a hurricane of shivers ride over her with two stray kisses to either side of her folds. Heavy lashes let brown hues gaze back up to her, one brow raising along with his smirk enough to hopefully hear her ask for it, rather than just answer his question, ❝ So may I ~? ❞
the call outs are strong this morning.
❝ Gross. ❞
pillarofnohr replied to your post
"Ugh - why would you do that? Now you've infected me, too!"
❝ I think the phrase is ‘ talk shit, get hit ? ’ ❞