#silvio thirsts
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🔞 In the vein of jewelry since that last reblog...
Thinking about Silvio's chain necklace(s?) swinging as he fucks you.
You're no stranger to the sound of his jangling, in fact it made up the majority of your first impression of him. The noise always preceded his appearance and acted as an alert to where your then-enemy, now-lover was. However, what you weren't usually used to was the filthy sounds of slapping flesh and wetness and grunts and moans that accompanied it now.
The first time Silvio made love to you, he took off his jewelry, allowing you two to have total uninterrupted skin-to-skin contact. But over time, as you got more used to his flashy, heavy jewelry, enjoyed the way it accented his developed chest and strong fingers, he'd start to keep on a few pieces once in a while, especially if he was losing patience while undressing. The contrasting color against his skin and the shine that complemented his sweaty body as he pounded into you were mesmerizing, and it was hard to keep your eyes off of it as it swung in rhythm against his thrusts.
The symphony of sounds was also particularly haunting. The louder the jangle, the more wild Silvio was allowing himself to be, and something about hearing it combined with his dirty talk and his grunts of effort just reached deep down inside you and set a fire there. And for the moments when you two couldn't keep your hands off each other, trying to slink off and sneak in a quickie in between meetings, the jewelry just added that touch of tension and risk of being caught. (One of the maids did in fact catch you two in the act when hearing a rhythmic jingling noise, and it took quite a while for Silvio to live it down and escape the lecturing of Rio).
The cool feeling of the metal was always addictive, too. When you're on your hands and knees, Silvio's chest pressed against your back as he's thrusting deep into you, it sends a shiver down your spine and makes you tighten around him when the metal touches your skin. Silvio also loved to tease his rings against your skin, letting the band brush against a nipple, the stone trace a line down your abdomen to your belly button. And when he reached a hand between your legs, the smooth metal contrasting with his rough, calloused hands was incredible.
It was amazing how something that was once a harbinger of trouble, now accompanied the one who could deliver you more pleasure than you've ever known in your life.
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Warnings : jealousy, breeding , creampie , standing sex , dirty talk established relation ,names like baby girl, dominant smut 18+
Characters:( choose your characterl) gojo , sakuna,toji,gilbert, chevalier, alter keith,silvio, vlad, faust, kanetsusgu, guy avari, jude ,roger barel, bakugo, jotaro,zoro
⚠️JEALOUS BOYFRIEND⚠️
IMAGINE YOUR CHOOSEN SUITOR AS YOUR JEALOUS BOYFRIEND It wasn't your fault men drolled at you but your boyfriend was posessive . How could any other man mastrubate at the public transport imagining you . Before he could kill that guy you dragged him to your appartment ! Did you enjoy the guy mastrubatinh to thought of you ! No then why the fuck you didn't let me teach him a lesson . Your boyfriend yelled. No it doesn't matter ,i am going to fill that pussy with so much cum and impregante it . He tears your clothes off and yanks your panties to the side , his cock already rock hard . It was a sight to behold the veiny thick cock that sprung out . Now deep burried into your tight pussy .. ahh dyamn Your pussy is soo tight fuckk baby girl sucks my cock so well. The hard sloppy thrusts from you boyfriends fat cock always makes you see stars of pure white bliss. Like a pussy drunk he rams his dick soo deep it kisses your womb with each thrust. His hands grop your perfectly shaped breasts just right for him as he bangs you from behind across the wall. Soon your pussy clenches on his throbbing cock that sends out ropes of his cum and seeds filling you up to the brim.. the excess mixed love juices drips coating his cock with it . Fuckk only you feel this good baby ahh shit His mouth comes to bite fiercely at your neck soo hard your cry tears of pain and pleasure . " no body can have you ! Not even in their fantasy as you belong to me baby girl ."...
The end
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#prayacreates#jjk x reader#jjk gojo#jjk#jjk thirsts#jjk toji#jjk geto#jjba smut#court of darkness#mha thirst#mha smut#mha bakugou#ikevamp#ikevil#ikepri fanfic#ikepri smut#roronoa zoro#zoro smut#ikepri silvio#ikemen prince keith#smut#18+ content#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#jujutsu gojo#geto suguru#toji x reader#toji smut#smut stories#daddy’s babygirl
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Ferrari wins Le Mans and Berlusconi croaks right after. Well well wellllllll
#lewis post thirst traps and people lose jobs#Ferrari wins and people DIE#apparently#italy#silvio berlusconi
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Love is when he takes you to one of his many private villas or vacation homes so he can pamper and dote on you, then fuck you outside one of the many windows or balconies to hear how loud you'll beg and plead for him.
#silvio#silvio ricci#ikepri silvio#ikemen prince silvio#ikepri#ikemen prince#hello silvio simps back at it again with another thirst post
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Okay so I have to admit that I haven't played most of the Ikemen Prince routes yet so I don't know if this applies to all the princes, but from what I have seen each route seems to have themes/references to famous stories, like:
Chevalier: Beauty and the Beast (of course)
Leon: The Prince and the Pauper
Silvio: King Midas
I'm curious to know what stories the other princes could represent, so please do share your thoughts with me if you have played the other routes! I love overanalyzing every piece of media I consume 💖
#Ikemen Prince#going through Silvio's route and making connections to Midas was a fun time#it's the having enough wealth to buy the world but still feeling an unquenchable thirst for *something*#(that something is love)#poetic cinema#on other note: I did consider that Keith could've been written with Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde in mind#but I feel that Alter!Keith is more nuanced than just 'Keith's hidden evil nature' since he was born out of trauma#posts made at 2am#kay shouts into the void
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I keep thinking of Silvio with his first kid, I feel like he'd end up with either all boys or at least majority boys. But generally thinking how soft he becomes for multiple reasons.
His family life was shit, one parent that manipulated him and the other that openly hated him. No luck with his siblings either, for multiple reasons. He grew up expecting people to only ever want something, specifically money, from him, and it skewed his view on relationships and family so much.
But now, now he has you.
Someone who was so ridiculously honest and and kind-hearted and sassy and stubborn that he had no choice but to fall in love with you. Someone that didn't just want him for his fortune or for special favors, but saw through his difficult sides and defensive nature and need to solve all things with money and accepted him anyway (even if it involved some fighting and arguments along the way).
He never could have predicted having a loving family, someone that treats him like an actual human being and not just a get-rich-quick scheme personified, being willing to touch someone with vulnerability and opening his heart to them. Honestly, part of him expected his work might kill him one day; before you, it probably would have been a blessing to die on the seas with his crew, away from the troubles of his kingdom and the hatred of his family. That, or maybe his thirst would finally consume him, the expensive wines he invested in finally taking him in the end.
It was a selfish thought, because he cared for his kingdom and worked hard to make it strong, that was his responsibility as prince. But sometimes, if he let himself think too long on it, it became too much for him. As much as he spouted that money was all that mattered, his heart still felt differently, and it was killing him inside. But meeting you saved him, in more ways than one.
Bringing you home to Benitoite, introducing you to the nation and the king and queen, getting married, it was all so unreal and like a fantasy. Sometimes Silvio was convinced he was just dreaming a drunken dream, and he'd have to slap himself or pinch himself to make sure it was reality. You did your best to assure him you really were there with him, your love and your warmth was real, but you couldn't blame him for how he felt knowing just a fraction of what he'd been through.
That dream-like feeling continued even as you eventually told him you were expecting, as he watched over the months as your belly grew and felt the small kicks of life. Of course he was happy, but he was terrified, too. Terrified that the only good thing in his life would be ripped away, like so much else, that someone or something would take the last bit of light from him and he'd go back to the half-alive existence he had before. He focused his anxieties into protecting you, staying by your side and holding you close. But sometimes the only things keeping him sane were your touches and your reassurances, reminding him you were always with him, that not even the strongest forces of nature could take you away from him. And he'd melt into your kiss, engraving the feel of your lips and your warmth into his heart so he'd never forget.
Things only stopped feeling like a dream when, after hours of labor and frantic pacing, he was finally holding his son, the newest prince of Benitoite and newest addition to the royal family. Just holding that wrapped, wriggling bundle in his arms, sharp wails of tiny lungs piercing his eardrums, finally cinched it all together. He wasn't adrift anymore, he wasn't ready to die with his boat or from excess drink. He had you, your unwavering love and resilience and wit, and this new life that you'd gifted him, that you'd made together. And he'd be damned if anything was going to take that away from him.
Having a family is foreign to him, a loving partner and a child that seeks him out (he will always think of the first time he heard "da da" and thought his heart would explode). Sometimes many times he worries that he'll do something to fuck it up, that he might act like his father or that you'll come to your senses and leave him for someone better. It takes a lot for him to unlearn these feelings, to work past these anxieties, because he wants to be the best he can be for you and his growing family. But he gets there, trusting in you and in himself that you two have got this, that it'll take more than an army to separate you from the people he cares about.
On occasion, he still thinks about if this is an elaborate dream, although the thought is more one in passing than a legitimate worry these days. But if this is a dream, it's one he never wants to wake up from.
#silvio x reader#ikemen prince#ikepri silvio#tw pregnancy#tw children#tw kids#i have been deep in my feelings for silvio#the guy deserves a big happy family#the minx can write ✍️
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Hi Yozzie!
Congratulations again on your milestone! For the New Years prompt, how about Silvio/pit trap/fruitcake.
The idea of Silvio of all princes stuck in Clavis's trap... (I'm not even sure I need Emma in there at all).
I had too much fun with this. Apologies in advance for shenanigans. Approx 1700 words of our lovely Prince Silvio in one of Clavis' infamous pit traps. If you haven't read Silvio's route, spoilers ahead! IkePri New Years Event story
Silvio gave a disgusted snort at the gaggle of nobles and wanna-bes. He didn���t have patience for their games tonight. All he wanted was to drink. To drink until this thirst in him ebbed or he got so drunk he didn’t notice it anymore. And this party wasn’t the place to get it done. No real booze here, just damned rose liquor and wine.
He took one last look around and then stomped off down one of the hallways leading out of the ballroom. It was a dimlit corridor with cheap decor and faded wallpaper. Silvio shook his head. These Rhodolitians didn’t know how to spend. “If you wanna throw a real part- ah!”
His grumbling cut short as the floor opened up, dropping him down an unexpected hole. Silvio jangled the whole way down the shaft and hit bottom with a thud and a clang. He lay there a moment, still and silent with surprise. Then he leapt to his feet, cursing.
“Hey! Hey! Ya morons left a hole in the floor! Damn it!”
No one replied, of course. They were all at the party. Where he was also supposed to be, until dawn. Which meant no one was going to come looking for at least another few hours. “There’s no way I’m gonna rot down here,” he mumbled, glaring up into the darkness above.
Silvio took a breath and steadied himself. He’d been in bad spots before. One didn’t sail without being able to handle himself, afterall. The hole he’d fallen into was pretty deep, the shaft slightly angled to slow a victim’s fall. The floor was cushioned with thick cloth and - he prodded the pile at his feet - hay.
This must be one of Clavis’ infamous pranks. Silvio frowned. “When I see that guy, I’m gonna punch him so hard he smiles out his ass, and that’s just to start. He’s gonna pay me back for this. I’ll . . . I’ll bankrupt him. And his damn brothers. The whole damn kingdom . . .”
He muttered angry promises as he searched the space for a way out or a way up. He found one of his own chains, the soft gold snapped in his fall, a covered plate of some sort of violently green pudding, and a book titled Smiling Is Good For You. He frowned at it and tossed the book against the wall.
“Useless.”
Silvio took to pacing. Back and forth across the small, padded space, his boots sinking in slightly with every step. It took five steps to cross from one wall to the other. Left wall, right wall, he began tapping them at each turn. Left wall, “I’m gonna make that bastard pay.” Right wall, “Hey! Somebody get me outta here!”
His fury faded as the quiet around him settled in. He tried to cling to it, but there was nothing to aim it at. Silvio was alone. No one to bribe or berate. Just a prince and his thoughts. He flopped onto the floor with a heavy sigh. “Boring,” he grunted.
A bit of hay poked through the fabric into his arm. He picked it out and threw it at the wall, but it wasn’t heavy enough to go far. It landed on his leg, one ending pointed at him in challenge. Silvio glared at it haughtily, but of course, the piece of hay wasn’t impressed.
He pursed his lips and blew on it. The hay spun around lazily in the air and floated right back onto his leg. “Bastard! Get off!” Then he brushed at it, but the bloody thing clung to his glove and jabbed him in the wrist. “Damn it!”
“Is someone down there? Who did I catch tonight?” A voice floated down from above, the tone rich with held laughter.
Silvio jumped to his feet, ignoring the bit of hay that still stuck to his coat. “Clavis?” The rage boiled back up in his veins. “You better get me outta here! I’m gonna punch you so hard the king feels it in his -”
“Hm. No, it appears I’ve trapped an angry dog. I thought I heard someone talking but now it’s just barking.” A laugh, high and wicked echoed down the shaft. “I’ll come back in a bit and check again.”
“Clavis! You better be joking! CLAVIS!” Silvio jumped and pounded on the walls, but the Rhodolitian prince was gone, or ignoring him. He could just picture the smug expression he would be wearing as he stood up there, listening to Silvio lose his mind. Then it hit him. This was the kind of reaction that sicko wanted.
Silvio took a long, deep breath. “Ok, ok. This guy wants to play games? Alright. I can play ‘em.” He sat down again, and the hay pricked his arm.
He jerked it out of his sleeve and stared at it. “Yer worse than that mutt. At least he doesn’t try to stick to me.” Silvio spun the hay in his fingers, noticing for the first time how it caught the dim light and turned it golden. And even though the ends were sharp, the middle was soft. Surprisingly so.
“You aren’t so bad, I guess. Least ways, you have some valuable qualities. I bet there’s people who would pay good money for ya.”
The hay didn’t reply.
Silvio sighed, trying to focus on not being angry. Or alone. “I like alone,” he told the bit of hay. “It’s good. Means no one’s screwing you. Lying to you. ‘Cept you.” The last bit he said quietly, as if it was a secret he was keeping from himself.
He set the bit of hay on his leg and picked up the book. Reading was not a favorite activity, though a necessary one. But this trash wasn’t about products, resources, income streams, investment returns, real property or anything worthwhile. At least it had pictures.
Although . . . “What kinda freak draws just the mouth?” Silvio thumbed through the book, looking at the smiles pictured within. Some of ‘em were nice. But some . . . “Look at this. Guy’s missing some teeth. Why’d they draw that in here? Genuine, it says.” He showed the page to the dry straw on his thigh.
“Stupid word too. Just means nobody caught you lyin’ yet.” He scoffed. “And this one? Lips all smooshed together. Ugh. Shy, it says. Pfft. Just somebody trying to fake like they don’t want somethin’ so you let ‘em close. Never met someone shy.”
The piece of hay was also not impressed.
They continued to flip through the pages, well, Silvio flipped and the straw just sat there. As straw does. “Kinda like this one though.” He spoke more quietly as his fingertip traced the outline. “Reminds me of -” he cut himself off as the memories came. When he was young and his mother, the queen, still had her real smile. Not the vicious, brittle thing it became as jealousy and hurt ate her alive.
He swallowed, pushing away the thought. Women were all like that. Fake. In love with money and power. And when there was a threat to what they had, they would do anything to hold onto it.
“Not gonna talk about that, ya got me?” Silvio glared at the hay as if it had forced these thoughts on him. He flipped the page so savagely it almost tore. “Damn it. This one looks like the mutt. Book says it’s joy but I’m gonna tell you, it’s stupidity.” He picked up the bit of hay and brought it closer to his face. “That’s the smile a fool makes when he -”
“Prince Silvio, are you . . . talking to a piece of grass?” Rio’s head appeared at the top of the hole, a bullseye lantern in hand.
He stood up, throwing the book on the ground. It landed atop the weird green pudding with a squelching sound. “No!” Silvio tucked the straw into his pocket and hoped his brother mistook the gesture. “Ya didn’t see anything!”
“Right.” Rio’s wry grin told Silvio this was going to come back at the worst possible time.
“You better get me outta here! If you’re lucky, I’ll only bankrupt half the country getting recompense for this!”
The blonde tilted his head. “Well, see, that’s the thing. I want to get you out. I really do. But if you’re still angry, I might have to leave you here to cool off a little longer.”
Silvio felt a shiver crawl down his spine. Certainly rage and not fear. He liked being alone. Yeah. “You do and I will kill you.”
“Fair enough. So look, you like to make deals so let’s make one. I get you out now, and in exchange, you don’t take any revenge. Not on me, or Prince Clavis or Rhodolite. Nobody and nothing. We can both pretend it never happened.”
“What?! No! Why would I -”
Rio interrupted. “Because then I’ll forget I saw you practically kiss a blade of dry grass. While holding a full conversation with it.”
Silvio’s fists tightened hard enough that his rings pinched. “That’s blackmail!”
“Is it? Hmmmm.” Rio grinned. “I don’t know. Sounds like a fair exchange. I mean, imagine what the merchants would say if they knew you were losing your mind? Nobody would want to do business with such a risky partner.”
The worst part of this, Silvio thought, was that the mutt was right. People were strangely skittish. A rumor could destroy an empire. “Fine.”
“What was that?”
“I said fine! It’s a deal!” He felt his shoulders slump. Defeat, thought Silvio, was almost worse than death. The only silver lining was knowing he’d get out and have plenty of opportunity to teach the mutt a lesson some other day.
A few minutes later, a rope ladder tumbled down the shaft. He climbed up, moving as fast as he could just in case Rio tried to change the deal. But his brother didn’t renege, and even held out a hand to help him up the last bit. Silvio slapped it away, of course, but part of him appreciated the gesture even if he would never admit it.
“Not even a thank you?” Rio raised an eyebrow. His too-similar sky blue eyes met the sea blue of Silvio’s gaze.
“Not unless I can say it with my fist. Now get outta my way. I need a drink.”
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Silvio route spoilers ch1 (aka screenshots im thirsting over under the cut)
I haven't. Read any route in AWHILE. Especially ikepri. I read like half of clavis together with a friend from her phone but that was like last year
So today im like, Lovebrush Chronicles early download is here lets gooooo and i deleted 3000 otome screenshots to make storage space and whatnot and the download still wont start (i guess it's a googleplay problem. It happened before) so im like fuck it let's read Silvio instead (it's fate)
And I'm ACTUALLY ENJOYING IT A LOT. really really a lot. I think silvio ricci is going to put an end to my cybird route reading burnout
THESE FOUR SCREENSHOTS OKAY. MY HEART IS POUNDING. CAN SOMEONE DIRECT ME TO A SMUT FIC WHERE THE READER DOESN'T MIND *THIS* KIND OF SILVIO??? I NEED HIM SO BAD BEFORE HE GETS THAT CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT AHHHH
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Silvio: What the fuck is this?
Carlo: W-we mass-produced your th-thirst pics like y-you requested
Silvio: I got no memory of ever makin' that kinda request
Carlo: Y-you sent me an e-e-e-e-mail with 500 GBs of
Silvio: Show me
Carlo: *shows*
Silvio: ...
Silvio: What's my email address?
Carlo: [email protected]
Silvio: And what's the email address written here?
Carlo: It's too dirty. I don't want to say it
Silvio: You see my problem then
Carlo: .............no?
Silvio: It ain't me, you kelp-brained sardine!
Carlo: But
Carlo: You definitely had a burner email like this before you were with Lady Emma
Silvio: So? People change
Silvio: Hold on, 500 GIGABYTES OF MY PRIVATE PICS?
Silvio's brain: Man, I'm more prolific than I thought
---
Silvio Reacts to Ikepri Merch (Sort of) Masterlist
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🔞Oooh the Silvio thoughts are running rampant today, talk of sex toys, oral, and 69, MDNI🔞
We know canonically that Silvio has some crazy stamina (and seems to run in the family eh) and likes eating out his S/O, so I was thinking about testing him with toys simultaneously and seeing his limit
Just laying on top of him in 69, sitting on his face and letting him eat you out at his pace while working a toy on his cock. Either edging him repeatedly, seeing how long he can last before he completely flips you over to take charge. Or milking him as much as his body can bear it, making him shake from sensitivity and keep faltering while he tries to keep pleasing you in return. Admittedly it's not long before he's asking for you to be sitting on his dick instead of some damned toy, don't you know you're driving him crazy?
Alternatively, having him eat you out while he uses the toy on himself (or maybe uses a toy on you instead), although that's not nearly as fun. He hangs on for a little while, but eventually he's panting against your thigh or your heat asking if he can put it in yet, he wants your warmth, not some damn toy. His face is beet red, the most disgruntled expression on his face, and he's so easy to tease. Of course, if he begs nicely, you might be willing to fold...
Also wanna use a cock ring on him, drive him absolutely nuts since he can't cum. It'll mean his desire for you jumps tenfold, and spends his time making you cum over and over until you're completely overstimulated. And that's when things get dangerous, cause he's finally had enough and takes the ring off in order to fuck you and fill you with cum properly. You're not leaving his room until he's filled you at least a few times and fucked you on every surface possible, not that your legs will be working properly by the time he's done. It's what you deserve for pushing his buttons like that, depriving him of the chance to cum in you like he wants. You can bet that everyone knows, too, just how far you pushed the beast by the way your screams echo in the palace.
Last thought is going down on him, depriving him of the chance to return the pleasure. Using a toy on him instead of your hand, teasing licks with your tongue to his shaft and his balls and gentle sucking. Going just fast enough that it's pleasurable but not nearly enough to make him cum. You can see his hands itching to reach out and touch you, but he'd never direct your movements or push you unless you asked for it explicitly. He can't help the way his hips thrust a little, though, his body clearly begging for more. It's also not long before he's begging to touch you back, to taste you and please you and make love to you.
From then on, he might ban sex toys in the bedroom until he's recovered and he's had plenty of time to make up for all the teasing. But maybe far down the road, he'll use a couple toys on you too and see how long you last...
#i wanna bully this man in bed so bad but lovingly ya know?#silvio ricci#ikemen prince#ikepri silvio#ikepri smut#silvio thirsts#spicy minx 🔥
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—𝘐𝘧 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘓𝘪𝘦 𝘋𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘋𝘰𝘨𝘴, 𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘭𝘭 𝘎𝘦𝘵 𝘍𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴
► SYNOPSIS:
Silvio Ricci gets a taste of his own medicine. [[heed the tags & author's note]]
▍silvio ricci x gender neutral reader
▍rating: E
▍tags: Silvio tops; Casual sex; Swearing; Name-calling; Silvio insults the reader some but so do they; Teasing; Biting; Crying; Light masochism; Silvio has a sensitive neck; Cumming inside; Reader plays with Silvio's feelings but he deserves it for being an ass; Come marking; Making a mess; Mild blood; Violence
▍wordcount: 2,000
▍a/n: be warned, this story might not be everyone's cup of tea. I aimed for a reader that is as "bad" as silvio, and perhaps not many can project into that. He would by no means treat the mc exactly the same way as he does the reader here, i'm sure about that, haha.
▍masterlist
"The rumors must be wrong," you conclude early, speeding up somewhere ahead of Silvio just to make him be the one to close the door behind you. The loud thud from his kick hardly disrupts your speech. "I've heard you indulge the ones who enter your bed more pompously… yet for me, no roses and champagne, no dangly little gifts from across the seas. I'm hurt."
"You talk too much." Silvio cuts, slumping himself against a soft-cushioned couch, as if declaring that this would be taken to bed only if it means dragging his weight to there.
Too bad that it hardly matters to you 'where' when the 'how' is way more intriguing. You straddle his hips with the enthusiasm of someone welcoming his lover from a winter-long campaign, and he cringers. He hates how his dick has another option about it, as soon as it feels the warmth of another sex against it.
With you, it's never straight to the point. He could surprise you with the cleverest makeshift mouthgag in the world and you'd still manage a way to speak to him in your innerving language. He doesn't bother with it anymore, much preferring to create noise than to cancel the one coming from you. Barging into random guestrooms saved for the less special guests, bedsprings creaking cheaply into the night; hallways that echo the filthy wet sounds of coupling. For one, it drives everyone in close radius away in almost laughable fashion and he gets amused. On the flipside, he gets dangerously alone with you.
He grabs a fistful of intricate necklaces and haphazardly pulls them over his head, his perfect fringe getting its first portion of disheveling for the night. He puts them on you instead, like it's regalia. You better hurry up and shake these hips soon if you so intend to make his dick your seat for the night.
Fingers begin to dance a courting dance as you undo the buttons of his shirt with no dangly loops of obstacle in the way. His skin is nice and warm to the touch. His pelvis all but presses back into your hands the moment you drag your weight further back his lap in order to work his belt undone.
"Don't you hate yourself sometimes for wanting my cock so much?"
He has more reason to adorn a nasty smirk than you do in the moment, but honesty is always less ugly. "Never."
His humming means a lot and nothing at all in the same time. Before he can say more, he is presented with a very tight embrace, head getting shoved into your chest as you cling to him as if the tar-black sea depths are behind your back.
"Prepare me, please… I'm scared of your big cock."
He scoffs in absurdity, recalling hushed thirsts in dark corners and declarations of it 'hurting so good'. His arms even have to fight their way out of the tight hug to comply with that wish. Deft fingers get to your spasming hole in record time as he loses no time to plunge two of them inside, pumping slowly.
You gasp and let your lips stay parted; Silvio seems concentrated in fingering you and you brush your mouth against his in the meanwhile. You trash your head away before he can get the idea you're initiating a kiss.
The blunt head of his cock rubs your hole, slipping in occasionally and making you gasp, yet he denies the entrance. Feeling in control makes him finally, finally enjoy something else than the rush of endorphins at the end of that damned act. He seats you down.
"Haah… here you go, you took it like a champ. I knew you can." He mockingly claps his hands twice or thrice, the sound of his palms coming together dry and irritating.
You squirm and make a marionette out of yourself as his cock ignites all pleasure-spot-fuses and the fire spreads. You do what is expected of you and gain sense slowly, grabbing into his shoulders for support. Slamming yourself down on him balls deep, you grind your bottom, then slowly ascent. On the fourth, fifth, sixth time, the dance gets less precise. You love it when he has to guide you, tongue clicking, warm palms on your bared ass.
You two move as one, each chasing individual peak, yet the goals meeting in the middle. Just another mutual gain deal glazed with forget hospitality, he is expert at those. At least you don't cost him much effort at this point, as you start finding his way back to him uninvited. It's a shame his dick feels better at your mercy than at anyone else's - it gets in his way when he tells himself there is nothing special to you.
Your moans spill in the night and you purposely curl them around the edges. Silvio can pick on the exaggerated ones but still marvels at the rest. You really need it bad tonight, perhaps worse than him.
"Whore."
Your answer is only to moan louder, living up to the name he gave you. He knows the way you clenched is not entirely part of the act, and smirks, repeating, "Whore."
Your hips speed up, knees brushing hurtfully even in those soft cushions. Slowing down is a must at this point if you don't want the night to be short. And it seems like you're set on your mind.
Silvio slaps your ass and his nails bite into it when you refuse to stop. His eyes are blurred with excited arouse even when he widens them in alert.
"Yours." You voice cracks around the single word and you mask it with another moan.
"I don't want to own you." he breathes heavily, hating his voice coming out strained like that, "I only own pretty things."
"Too bad owning them won't make you any less ugly."
Rage fuses with arouse as Silvio swears at you colorful words in his language that somehow you haven't heard of before.
If anyone is to see you two from afar,
They'd say you deserve each other.
Even if using all your strength, you won't able to outpower him, and it's a fact. You keep moving up and down in deranged pace that is designed to send both of you to culmination. With each rise and fall on his cock, Silvio feels like you're stepping on his throat, mocking him. He summons his mind to snap out of the pleasure of being controlled like that, he'd puke his guts afterwards if he surrenders to that ugly confession. The memory of guiding your hands to wrap around his neck shouldn't ever come to surface with a fresh example again.
It's when you bite his neck that he snaps, grabbing a harsh hold of your bottom guaranteed to leave bruises. It would be so easy to manhandle you off his cock, push your face down into the couch and have the game played by his rules. Yet, when he gets presented with that power, he doesn't know what to do with himself. You moan out submissively to him, pain numbing your cockiness - you give him control and he does nothing.
You start to wonder if he can even cum anymore while doing the old routine of fucking yet another bitch in doggy style; it's no wonder he doesn't flip you on your knees.
You can be good and help him out.
Daring, you test the restraints, nibbling on his neck. It's not like you're just now learning of his erogenous zone, but ignoring it on purpose in some of your sessions is more fun.
His hands fall off, empty palms turned upwards hanging in the air for few seconds. He fixes his grip on your waist instead, leaving you with enough room to lead the movement.
It doesn’t take much once you speed up, feeling his cock twitch and swell inside. Your hole hugs him oh so nicely, warm and tight for him alone, for a second seeming like it simply serves him.
You cum first, getting lost in your own game. The pleasure peaks and you're sincere when you call out his name. Despite your better opinion of associating Silvio with ugliness, his name sounds beautiful said out loud. Sil-vi-o. Silver tongue, seawater; salt, venom, viciousness, Silvio.
It's very married-couple-in-love of him to cum so downright simultaneously with you but here he goes. He moves you up and down when strength leaves your legs, and he fucks his cum into you like he intends to mark you inside-out. Your depths are coated thick and warm, and the profanities are almost melodic when he groans like that. You love how he gives you every last drop, not bothering to get his cock as soon as possible out of you but quite the contrary.
He looks at you after what feels like eternity but for your much-alive still, twitching sexes, it's merely seconds. His icy blue eyes bore into yours and widen with shock.
"Why are you crying?"
You snicker through the sniffles, labeling yourself as pathetic at this moment.
"Because… I love you, Silvio."
He pales.
The room becomes so still, so quiet with the lack of as much as the sound of breathing being heard. Silvio searches something more to fall from your lips in the absence of his breaths rudely interrupting you. Soon his breath runs out and he huffs out with brows knitting together, puzzled and with a storm of things to say casting on the tip of his tongue.
"Pfft."
A hitched breath.
"Ahahaha!"
Your laugh undoubtedly sounds exaggerated from the side; but your face brightens up so much as you finally release the laugher that has been building behind your lips. It's ringing merrily in the dimly lit room, and you're honestly just waiting for Silvio to shut you up but it never comes. Another set of tears stream down to wash away the ones from before, and they're born from different sources.
You better get up before Silvio remembers how to speak again. He must have been training that resting-bitch-face of his a lot, you didn't expect it to see it adorning his ugly features so soon.
Using his shoulders for balance, you get up from the gross, softened cock that gave you so much pleasure previously. Instead of making this as fast and as inconsequential as possible, you linger over him, looking down at the place where you have been joined. His cum starts to leak out, and you let it. It dirties the front of Silvio's pants while he is busy being out of his mind.
"Oh, you dirty whore."
You fight the urge to say Welcome back, Silvio, and instead roll your eyes at him. "This is getting old. Get creative."
Silvio huffs out a laugher, not knowing himself where it came from. He starts fantasizing how to take you next, but his naughty thoughts are interrupted by the sight of you fixing your clothing.
You grab into the necklaces and unceremoniously throw them at the glossy marble floor with a horrific jiggle. Their quality is put the ultimate test but no runaway beads roll underneath furniture; not that Silvio cares.
He understands what it would mean to call back to you and stop you from leaving. He can't deal with being more grossed at himself any more tonight.
Blowing a kiss behind your shoulder, you leave.
The night is still so, so damn young. Sleep would never come to him. Being alone would be agonizing. Getting his shit together and going downstairs where another high-society gathering is taking place is unthinkable. He'd puke at the sight of a flirting woman right now.
With the rage of a man deemed to suffer until his last breath, Silvio screams his lungs; the sound masking the one of a shoved down decorative table nearby. His knuckles get stupidly bruised to blood somehow and it gets on his shirt when he fixes his collar. Just great.
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#Ikemen Prince#IkePri#Silvio Ricci#IkePri Silvio#Ikemen Prince Silvio#ikeprince silvio#ikeprince#cybird#ikemen series#ikepri smut#ikemen prince fanfic#ikepri fanfic#ikemen prince smut
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Sorry to ask you this...but is Silvio a virgin or something? He's always a blushing mess😅😅
Nonny, never apologize for bringing Silvio into my inbox.
Spoilers below the cut...
Silvio, surprisingly, is very much not a virgin. In fact his route quite literally opens on him waking up post-one-night-stand. However, he still finds the act fairly repugnant because in his mind he associates the women who are interested in him with being only gold-diggers, hence his distaste for being touched by them...yet he's compelled by his unacknowledged search for love.
Emma flusters him even worse than most, he admits, for reasons I think we can all guess are pretty clear - she sends his fight or flight response completely haywire because she doesn't seem interested in his money and because he knows deep down she could be the person to maybe finally give him what he so (quite literally) thirsts for.
Also...he's just heckin tsundere.
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Hey Michelle!
I'm slowly but surely becoming obsessed with your Silvio text posting. Lol Please don't feel pressured to answer this if you don't want to, but I was just thinking.... how would Silvio be if you were killed and he feels like he could have (or somehow should have) stopped it?
Would he be someone who just loses all motivation to do anything, or would he be hellbent on revenge, or maybe want to do what he thinks You would want him to do? I'm just curious on how you think he'd react long-term.
Silvio doesn't handle it well AT ALL and sees it as a personal attack - an act of war.
Because EVERYONE FAR AND WIDE IN THE COUNTRY OF BENITOITE knows of his obsessive fondness of you. And to take the only source of happiness from him, the only person who's ever accepted him for who he was, saw the beast in him but loved him anyways. Learned of his past, the wrongs he'd committed, the wrongs he'd done towards you to push you away from him at first but it never scared you away; you never let go of his hand.
Honestly, others could've attacked him from any angle: him personally, his wealth, his possessions, his title. He wouldn't have given a damn in the world.
And now.. now he had no charming smile to wake up to, no warmth to fill his heart and bed, no one to make the smallest things feel like the greatest adventures. Who's love soften him as the days grew of the two of you together. No one to sass him off and tell him when he's wrong or even just to playfully give him a hard time, no one to eagerly await his arrival back into town on the docks. No one to crave for him.
But the fact.. THE FUCKING FACT TO STRIP HIM RAW AND BARE, SHAVING HIM DOWN TO THE BRINE AND BONE. TO SAVAGE A MAN FROM HIS HUMANITY AND NEW FOUNDED PURPOSE in life left him seething.
A lot of anger, rage and resentment still carried with him through the years but a deep sadness festered; the mere smashing of doors, broken vases, shattered mirrors and agonizing screams wouldn't ever bring you back to him. The thirst came back - he started to aggressively drink again to numb the pain, quench the thirst that he never imagine having to go through again.
Fuck, he hasn't cried since he was a kid; before, he had to dry his tears himself, wipe his chin and stand tall, make something for himself. Yet now, he'd give anything for the touch of your love to wipe his cheeks dry, the charm in your voice that made everything feel better, the warmth in your hands that would never let him go.
Now, all he's left with is a cold tombstone. Used of the finest materials, one he has meticulously kept in pristine condition, littered about with roses and all the things you've ever cherish and loved. Any moment, any chance he had, he was there with you. Reminisce, talk about his most cherished moments and memories with you, the gift you've given him that money couldn't ever come close to - and how he feels like he failed you.
He even wanted to commemorate a statue in your honor; a symbol of love, peace and hope. Etch your name onto the side of every ship. A mural done in your memory.
But it's once he starts to finally think, actually SIT and FUCKING THINK about who could've done this to you. Who hated his bare existence so much that taking your life would've made the assailant smile, knowing damn well you were the key to his weakness.
And there was only one bastard who immediately comes to mind. Who'd pull such a dirty move, who had lingering eyes in every inch of the continent, who'd laugh in his face and feign innocent.
GILBERT VON OBSIDIAN.
"If war is what you fuckin' wanted, if a game is all but what ya wanted to play. Bring it the hell ON."
He couldn't bring you back and hell, maybe this isn't what you would've wanted him to do. But his eyes tunnel visioned, rational thought left his head a while ago. It wouldn't be a smart move to cause tensions with the Conquering Beast's nation and he knew that all to well. But with a little investigating, a little planning, a little money, and a lot of dirty playing; he'd win the war in your name.
Now, all he needed was time and the right opportunity.
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Tagging 🏷️
I'd like to make a polite request when it comes to tagging me in things.
Please tag me in the following:
if I have requested to be on your taglist
In tag games (I may not always play along but I like them!)
If you have a question or want an opinion related to things I openly talk about like Ikeprince, Ikevamp, writing, teaching, English, German, gaming etc.
If you find something related to suitors I love (Gilbert, Cyran, Chevalier, Clavis, Silvio, Leon, Leonardo, Faust, Comte)
A poll you'd like me to take part in
Please do not tag me in the following:
Nsfw content/ thirst posts. I skip them anyway and a tag won't get me to read it or engage. This includes if I am on your taglist. Please don't tag me in these kinds of posts.
Very niche/ specific things (unless you've seen me talk about them)
Hate posts for any character (including Rio and Charles Henri)
Thank you 💜
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DID YOU SEE MY DUMB THIRST POST OF SILVIO ASKING EMMA/READER IF SHE'D STILL LOVE HIM IF HE WAS A WORM BECAUSE OF A CONVO HE HAD WITH RIO AJBSKDJSNS
NO I DIDN'T! BUT PLEASE OH MY GOD THAT IS SO HIM SECQDRSGFTDSGHDNW I LOVE IT!
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Aperol Spritz: The Tale of a Refreshing Italian Aperitivo
When it comes to iconic Italian cocktails, the Aperol Spritz reigns supreme. With its vibrant orange hue, bubbly effervescence, and refreshing taste, the Aperol Spritz has become synonymous with leisurely afternoons and vibrant social gatherings. In this blog, we dive into the story behind the Aperol Spritz, tracing its roots to the sun-kissed lands of Italy and uncovering the secrets that have made it a beloved aperitivo around the world.
Origins of Aperol:
The tale begins in Padua, Italy, in 1919 when brothers Luigi and Silvio Barbieri created Aperol, an aperitif with a distinctive flavor profile. Crafted from a blend of bitter and sweet orange peel, along with a proprietary mix of herbs and botanicals, Aperol offered a unique taste that captured the essence of Italian aperitivo culture.
Rise to Popularity:
Initially, Aperol gained popularity in the northeastern regions of Italy, particularly in Veneto and Friuli-Venezia Giulia. Locals embraced the vibrant and refreshing characteristics of the drink, making it a staple for pre-dinner gatherings, known as "Aperitivo Hour." The Aperol Spritz, a delightful variation of Aperol mixed with Prosecco and a splash of soda water, emerged as a favored way to enjoy the aperitif.
Cultural Significance:
The Aperol Spritz not only quenched the thirst of Italians but also became a symbol of the Italian lifestyle and the art of savoring the moment. Its bright orange hue mirrored the stunning sunsets that grace the Italian landscape, while its effervescence and bittersweet flavor perfectly complemented the country's culinary delights. The Aperol Spritz became a go-to aperitivo, capturing the essence of Italian hospitality, leisure, and conviviality.
Global Phenomenon:
In recent years, the Aperol Spritz transcended Italian borders, captivating the palates of cocktail enthusiasts worldwide. Its vibrant colors and refreshing taste quickly gained popularity, making it a staple in bars and social gatherings across the globe. The drink's versatility and accessibility have contributed to its widespread appeal, appealing to those seeking a light, effervescent, and flavorful aperitivo.
Modern Interpretations:
While the classic Aperol Spritz recipe remains beloved, variations and creative twists have emerged to cater to evolving tastes. Some enthusiasts experiment with different garnishes, such as slices of orange or a sprig of fresh herbs, to add a personal touch. Additionally, mixologists have introduced innovative adaptations, incorporating unique ingredients or infusing the cocktail with local flavors, adding a contemporary twist to the traditional Aperol Spritz experience.
The story of the Aperol Spritz takes us on a journey through time, culture, and the art of the Italian aperitivo. From its humble origins in Padua to its global popularity, this iconic cocktail has become a symbol of leisure, conviviality, and the joy of savoring life's simple pleasures. So, whether you find yourself basking in the Italian sun or enjoying an Aperol Spritz in a bustling city elsewhere, raise your glass to this refreshing concoction and toast to the tale behind one of Italy's most beloved aperitivos.
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