Akotsk men when you sleep naked beside them. Part two
part one
due to popular demand!! heheee sorry guys i know i dont write much about these other four. asks always open!! sorry for the later posting, im quite tired and things are getting busy. wrapping up my other drafts too.
hcs of baelor, lyonel, maekar, raymun
mdni 18+
Baelor - He had been working far too much for your liking. Late nights at the council table, stacks of parchment threatening to topple over, dark circles under his eyes that hadn't been there a month ago. You watched him leave before dawn and return after dusk, and you missed him. So you decided to give him something to come home to.
The torches had burned down a while ago, making your shared chambers look all the more intimate. You lay on your stomach, your cheek pressed into the pillow, the sheet kicked to the floor. Your back was bare. The curve of your spine, the swell of your hips, the soft dip of your waist all of it out in the open. For his taking.
You heard his footsteps slow as he entered. The door closed. A pause.
"Love," he said. His voice was low, rough and tired from hours of talking, but there was something underneath it. Something waking up. (Other things were waking up, too.)
You hummed innocently, not moving. "Husband."
The bed dipped behind you. His hand landed on your waist, warm and calloused, his fingers spanning across your hip. He didn't speak for a long moment. Just touched you. His thumb traced the dip of your spine, then lower, over the swell of your backside.
"You're not wearing anything," he observed.
"I’m not. Thought you might need a treat… Thought you might like it.”
He exhaled slowly. “I love it.”
You heard the rustle of fabric as he shed his tunic, his belt, his breeches. You definitely didn’t not smirk internally. Then his skin was against yours warm, solid, the weight of him settling over your body. His chest pressed to your back deliciously. His hips cradled between your thighs.
His hands found your wrists. He pinned them above your head, his fingers interlacing with yours, pressing into the pillow.
"You're too good to me," he murmured against your ear.
He pushed inside you in one slow, deliberate thrust. You gasped, your body arching, and he groaned low and rough, his forehead dropping to the back of your neck.
"So wet," he gulped, panting slightly. "Were you waiting long? I’m sorry.”
"T-too long."
He pulled out and thrust back in. The obscene wet plap of skin against skin filled the room, the sound of him driving into you again and again. His pelvis slapped against your ass with each stroke, and he held your wrists pinned above your head, keeping you in place beneath him.
"Good girl," he growled, his hips never stopping. "Good girl, taking me so well. You like this, don't you? Like being filled up."
You nodded, your mouth open, your moans muffled by the pillow.
"Let me hear you," he said. He released one of your wrists to pull the pillow away, tossing it aside. "I want to hear every sound you make."
He fucked you harder. His hips snapped against yours, driving you deeper into the mattress. His hand found your hair, fisting it gently, turning your face to the side so he could watch your expression.
"That's it," he said. "That's my good girl. Taking all of me so well. My girl."
You couldn’t take it any longer with his praise, you came around him, your body clenching, and he groaned, his hips stuttering as he followed you over the edge. His cock pulsed inside you, filling you with warmth, and he buried his face in your neck, breathing hard. "You're going to be the death of me," he murmured.
You laughed, breathless. "What a way to go."
He kissed your shoulder and didn't move for the rest of the night. Mission: Treat Baelor, accomplished.
Lyonel - The feast had been enormous. Music, dancing, drinking, lords and ladies packed into the great hall until the walls sweated. Lyonel had thrown it, of course, he loved any excuse for a celebration. And like the party animal he is, feasts are never EVER small. He had been in his element all night, laughing loud, drinking deep, spinning serving girls until their skirts flew up.
But you hadn't wanted a party with hundreds of people, as much fun as it was, you wanted a party with just the two of you.
So you waited with quite the anticipation, heart racing when you heard his heavy footsteps in the corridor, the rumble of his voice humming some tavern song he'd picked up from the musicians. The door swung open, and he stumbled inside, still humming, still grinning, his tunic half unlaced.
"Honey!" he boomed, then stopped.
He blinked.
You were naked. Lying on the bed, propped up on your elbows, one knee bent. The candlelight painted your skin with a divine glow. The perfect picture of temptation. Just from this, Lyonel is thunder struck. His jaw practically dropped to the ground. His humming stopped. His grin froze.
"What's this?" he asked, his voice dropping low.
"Thought we could have our own party."
He locked the door. You heard the bolt slide home.
He crossed the room in three strides, not speaking, not looking away from your body. His tunic hit the floor. His belt clattered after it. His breeches followed, and then he was naked, his cock already hard, thick and heavy against his thigh.
He climbed onto the bed and settled between your legs, his massive shoulders blocking out the candlelight.
"You're so fucking pretty," he said, kissing your neck, your collarbone, your breasts. "All laid out for me. All mine.
He grabbed your knees and pushed them up toward your chest, opening you wide. His cock pressed against your entrance, wet and ready.
"This what you wanted?" he asked, grinning. "A party with just us?"
"Please," you begged.
He pushed inside you in one brutal thrust, and you screamed. He didn't stop. Didn't slow down. He fucked you hard and fast, his hips slamming against yours, his cock driving into you so deep you felt him in your throat.
"Take it," he growled. "Take all of it. You wanted this. You fucking wanted this."
You did. You wanted it more than anything.
His hands gripped your thighs, his fingers bruising, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit until you came undone around him.
"Fuck," he groaned. "Fuck, you're squeezing me so tight. Gonna make me cum."
"Cum inside me," you begged. "Please. Please."
He did. He roared, his body shuddering, his cock pulsing as he filled you. He stayed there for a moment, buried deep, his forehead pressed to yours.
"Best party I've ever been to," he said, grinning.
You laughed, breathless. "Better than the feast?"
"Feast didn't have you naked in my bed."
He pulled out and collapsed beside you, dragging you against his chest. His heart was still pounding, his skin slick with sweat.
"Love you," he mumbled into your hair.
"Love you too."
Maekar - Maekar was already in bed when you came out of the bath. He was on his back, one arm behind his head, his eyes closed, his chest bare. The sheets were drawn up to his waist, and his breathing was slow, he was sleeping, peacefully.
But you have other plans.
You let your towel drop to the floor. The air was cool against your bare skin, and you shivered as you crossed the room. The bed dipped as you climbed onto it, and Maekar's eyes opened.
He went very still.
You straddled his hips, settling your weight on top of him. His hands came up automatically, gripping your thighs, his fingers pressing into your soft flesh. While you grinded downwards on his painfully hard dick.
"You're naked," he said. His voice was flat, but his hands were already sliding higher.
"Like what you see?”
He stared at you so intensely it almost made you nervous. His gaze traveled down your body. Your breasts. Your stomach. Your thighs.
"You woke me up for this?"
You nod, feeling a little embarrassed. Did he not like it? Too much, maybe?
That’s what you thought until his mouth was crashing against your lips, as needy as you, if not more. He kissed you like he was claiming you, his tongue sliding against yours, his teeth grazing your lower lip. His hands roamed your body, your back, your breasts, your hips, gripping, squeezing, leaving marks you would find tomorrow. And you have no problem with that.
"Ride me," he said against your mouth.
You didn't need to be told twice.
You reached between your bodies, wrapped your hand around his cock, thick, hard, leaking precum, and guided him to your entrance. You sank down slowly, and he groaned, his head falling back against the pillow.
"Fuck," he breathed. "Fuck, you're so-”
You cut him off with a grind, braced your hands on his chest and began to move. Up and down. Rolling your hips. Finding a rhythm that made his fingers dig into your waist. The bite of his fingernails into your hips only heightening how good he feels.
He watched you. His dark eyes never left your face, your breasts, the place where your bodies joined. Every time you lifted up, he could see his cock slick with your arousal, and every time you sank down, he groaned like it was the first time.
"You're so beautiful," he said. "Riding me like this. Taking what you want."
You leaned forward, bracing your hands on either side of his head, and kissed him. He kissed you back, his tongue sliding against yours, his hands gripping your backside, guiding your movements.
"Harder," he said. "Fuck me harder."
You did. You bounced on his cock, your thighs burning, your breath coming in ragged gasps. The room filled with the sounds of your bodies slapping together, your moans, his groans.
"I'm close," he said. "Don't stop. Don't you fucking stop."
You didn't. You rode him faster, harder, chasing your own release, and when you came, you cried out his name, your body clenching around him.
He followed a moment later, his hips bucking up into you, his cock pulsing as he filled you with his seed. He held you there, buried deep, his arms wrapped around your waist.
"You're going to be the death of me," he muttered.
You smiled and kissed his forehead.
"Get some sleep," you whispered, cuddling into his chest.
He snorted. "Yeah because we’re doing this again in the morning.”
Raymun - Raymun was a romantic. He brought you flowers, wrote you poetry, kissed your knuckles like you were something precious. He was gentle and soft spoken and made you feel like the most important person in the world, because to him, you are. Which was why you were so nervous.
You never did anything like this before. Well, you had sex. Plenty of times. He had seen you naked, touched you, tasted you. But never like this. He was always the one to initiate it. You weren't bold or brazen. You blushed when he complimented you, looked away when he held your gaze too long. The thought of being naked in his bed, without his knowledge made your stomach twist into knots.
But he was coming home late tonight. He had mentioned it at breakfast, almost apologetically. "The others want to have a few drinks," he had said. "I won't be too late. I promise."
You had nodded, told him to have fun, kissed his cheek.
And then you had spent the whole day planning.
You bathed. You lotioned. You brushed your hair until it shone. And then you lay down on the bed, completely naked, and pulled the heavy blankets up to your chin. The wool was scratchy against your bare skin, but it hid everything. Gave you courage.
Your heart was pounding. Your palms were sweaty. What if he laughed? What if he thought you were being ridiculous? What if he was too tired for you? What if-
The door opened suddenly, pulling you out of your thoughts.
Raymun stepped inside, shrugging off his cloak, running a hand through his hair. His cheeks were flushed from the cold. You’ll warm him right up, you think.
"You're still awake?" he asked, surprised. "I thought you'd be asleep by now."
You shook your head, clutching the blanket tighter.
He crossed the room, tugging off his boots, then his belt. "You're being quiet," he observed, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Is everything alright?"
You nodded. Swallowed. Took a breath.
He studied your face for a moment, still concerned, not wanting to push it, he shrugged off his tunic, crawled under the blankets beside you, and reached for you automatically, his arm sliding around your waist, his chest pressing against your back.
His hand touched bare skin.
Your hip. The curve of your waist. The soft swell of your backside.
He froze.
His fingers splayed across your hip, like he was checking to make sure he was feeling what he thought he was feeling. Then he lifted the blanket just enough to look.
You heard his breath catch.
"Raymun?" you whispered, your face burning.
He couldn’t answer. He just pulled the blanket down further, exposing you to the waist. His gaze traveled over your body with adoration.
"When did you-" He swallowed. "You've been lying here like this? All night? For me?”
You nodded. “All for you.”
He stared at you for a long moment. Then he kissed you.
"I love you," he said against your mouth. "I love you so much."
He kissed his way down your body. Your neck. Your collarbone. The swell of your breasts. He took his time, worshipping you, his lips pressing against your skin like he was trying to learn the shape of you by heart.
When he reached the apex of your thighs, he looked up at you.
"Can I?" he asked.
You nodded. “Please.”
He put his mouth on you.
You gasped, your back arching, your fingers fisting in his hair. He was gentle at first, soft, exploratory, but when you moaned, he grew bolder. His tongue slid between your folds, circling your clit, dipping inside you. He licked and sucked and nibbled, and you came undone beneath him, crying out his name.
He didn't stop. He kept going, licking and sucking, until you came again, your body shaking, your hands tugging at his hair.
"Please," you begged. "Please, Raymun, I need you inside me."
He kissed his way back up your body and settled between your thighs. His cock, hard and leaking, pressed against your entrance.
"Look at me," he said.
When your eyes met, he pushed inside you slowly, inch by inch, his forehead pressed to yours.
"You feel so good," he breathed. "So good. I'm not going to last."
You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him deeper.
"Cum inside me," you said.
That he did. He thrust into you, fast and deep, his hips slamming against yours. His breath was ragged, his moans muffled against your neck. When he came, he shuddered, his cock pulsing, filling you with warmth.
He kept himself buried inside you, panting.
"Can I stay inside you?" he asked, his voice soft, almost shy.
You nodded, giggling.
He kissed your forehead and held you closer.
"I love you," he whispered.
"I love you too."
You fell asleep like that. Connected. His seed still deep inside you, his heart beating against your back.
You had never felt so safe.
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