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rafesangelita · 3 months ago

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♡ what happens when the man you’ve been having anonymous phone sex with asks you to come over to his place so you two could have a date of your own?

warnings: mean!rafe, enemies to ???, brief descriptions of phone sex, dirty talk, mutual masturbation, mutual pining, praise, orgasm control, orgasm denial, degradation, flirty banter

a/n: this is part three of this mini series! thank you so much for all the love on this series so far, i wasn’t expecting such an outpoor of support <3 if you ask to be added to the taglist and i don’t reply, don’t worry!! i promise i’ve seen it and have added you!

links: previous | next | mini series masterlist

wc: 2.8k

“..you sound pretty.”

you froze, the slightly familiar voice sending a shiver down your spine. “who’s this?” you swallowed thickly, already having a gut feeling. “you know who i am.” with a demeaning tone like that, you only had one guess. “so out of all of the usernames you could’ve came up with; ‘country club’ was the one that stuck?” rafe smiled to himself before taking a drink from the liquor in his glass. he was alone on the druthers now with nothing but you on his mind, along with his mystery girl that he never stopped thinking about.

“it’s just a nickname a friend of mine gave me,” he explained, “no one else knows me by it so that’s why i chose it.” you hummed, a hint of curiosity piquing your interest. “really? who?” you asked him in a poor attempt to get something out of him. “ah, you wouldn’t know him. he’s from the cut.” now you were really interested. “the cut? how did you end up being friends with someone from over there?”

rafe was quiet for a few moments.

“it’s a long story. i think you’d find out who i am if i told you about it.” you tried to think about any drama or gossip that chanel may have filled you in about at some point but ultimately came up empty handed. “i see..” deciding to change the subject, you asked him about something that actually had relevance. “so what had you so wrapped up earlier?” rafe sighed, your pictures from earlier flashing in his mind.

“i was on a date— if you could even call it that,” he laughed, “the amount of bitchy attitude this girl throws at me every time i see her is crazy.” you ignored the spark of jealousy that lit up in your core, your eyes narrowing as you thought of all the things he could’ve been doing with someone else that wasn’t you.

rafe had a very specific reason for bringing someone else up and just like he had hoped, you fell right into his trap. “yeah? you should probably call her and talk to her instead.” you were quick with your remark, rolling your eyes before settling underneath your plush comforter.

“i think i already am.”

you bit the inside of your cheek, a sense of panic washing over you as you thought about your earlier encounter with rafe. could you really be the girl that quote unquote ‘throws bitchy attitude at him every time you see him’? it would be hard to tell considering you threw bitchy attitude towards everyone, but still, his words caused your train of thought to come to a screeching halt. “no, that’s impossible.” to be in denial when you two were this far along in your arrangement was simply delusional, but you couldn’t help but deny his theory.

“you think so?” he sat back in his seat overlooking the water. “i know so. cause i went on a date tonight as well.. and i personally find the guy insufferable— hot, definitely, but insufferable nonetheless, and i’d like to think that if me and you have ever talked or interacted in person we’d at least get along in some way.” now it was rafe’s turn to feel jealousy burn through his chest at the mention of you going on a date with someone else other than him.

“you went on a date?” the calm tone in his voice was now replaced by assertiveness, his jaw clenching as he imagined you getting all dolled up for some loser. “yes.” you don’t know why, but you felt like you had did something wrong. “and you said he was hot?” rafe downed the rest of his drink, pouring himself another shortly after. “yes..” you answered again, a hint of a smile playing on your lips, “i’d fuck him even though i told him it would never happen.” if rafe couldn’t understand what was so similar between you and his personal internet slut then, he definitely knew what it was now. you had to be her.

rafe thought about your words from earlier.

“why i don’t like you, or why i won’t let you fuck me?”

you had such a smart mouth on you, the only thing rafe could think about was how he’d shut you up by filling your throat up with his cock. “it’s funny you say that. i could’ve sworn my brat of a ‘date’ said the same thing to me.” suddenly you felt like you were in enemy territory, every single one of your sensible instincts urging you to hang up the phone. “uhm—” you cleared your throat awkwardly, “i wonder if she has any idea that i’d fuck her senseless if only she’d let me.” your mind drifted off to rafe again, and the way he was looking at you before you left; as if he knew you something you didn’t.

“tell her that next time you talk to her.” you shot back, rolling your eyes as he muttered a ‘i will.’

deciding to move into the cabin inside the druthers, rafe slid the door shut behind him before be turned the lights off, a groan leaving his lips as he took a seat on the couch. “so why’d you call me? you know, since you’re obviously interested in someone else.” rafe scoffed, rolling the tension out of his shoulders before blinking up at the ceiling. he was amused by everything that came out of your mouth. “i’m not interested in anyone else. i think i have you figured out, and if i’m right then this couldn’t be anymore perfect.”

rafe imagined you being the one on the phone with him right now, your hand in between your thighs as you got off to the sound of his voice. he imagined you wearing nothing, those pretty tits of yours on full display. “and if you’re wrong?” you teased. “i’m not. i can’t be.” while you had no idea who he could be envisioning, you had no problem waiting for the day to prove him right or otherwise. “i guess we’ll just have to play the waiting game until we can’t anymore..” rafe hummed in agreement. “well that won’t be very long then.”

you hoped not.

there was a beat of silence before rafe’s voice sounded through your receiver. “sooo.. what are you wearing right now?” you groaned, the cliché and overused line making you shake your head. “you have seriously got to come up with something better to initiate this,” you fiddled with the string of your robe, “but i’ll work with you just this once.” if only you could see the look on rafe’s face right now. “sorry i’m not an experienced phone sex expert, i prefer my sexual encounters in person.” he laughed when you cursed under your breath. “ugh, goodnight.”

while rafe thought you were joking, you had really hung up on him, leaving him both turned on and frustrated.

[10:57 PM] brattydiaries: 1 attachment

[10:57 PM] brattydiaries: and to think.. i really wanted to touch myself. oh well, i’ll see you around ‘country club’

rafe was pissed when he opened your message and saw a picture of you completely naked in your silk robe, his cock stirring at the sight. he could’ve had you rubbing your clit by now if only he would’ve went easy with the remarks.

[11:00 PM] countryclub: you’re gonna make me work hard for it aren’t you.

[11:01 PM] brattydiaries: oh, you have no idea.

and that’s exactly what rafe did. he was persistent, making sure to call you every single night after that until you finally approved of his efforts. he knew from the moment he heard you moan on the phone that it was all worth it.

“f-fuckk, i can’t!” you cried out in frustration as rafe denied you another orgasm. you’ve been at this for an hour now, your panties drenched with your arousal as he taunted you on the other line. “yes you fucking can, you don’t cum until i let you, you understand?” you huffed, your clit aching with sensitivity as you shuddered at his words. “you made me wait all this time to get you like this, you can hold out just a little bit more for me.” rafe grunted, his own hand palming himself through his boxers.

you shuddered, your eyes fluttering shut as he told you all about the things he’d do if he had you there with him. “i’d fucking wreck you, baby,” he moaned, thinking about fucking you to tears until you couldn’t handle it, “fuck’ that attitude right out of you and get you all pathetic and desperate. just like you are right now.” you were at the point where you couldn’t even touch yourself anymore, your orgasm being just in arm’s reach. “please!” you whimpered, your thighs trembling with the need to let go, “i’ve come close so many times already.”

as odd as it may sound, rafe hasn’t let himself cum ever since you two started having phone sex. messaging each other and sending pictures was different— but now that he had your voice in his ears, it made everything feel real. he swore to himself that he wouldn’t let himself finish until he had you in the palms of his hands. maybe it was a way for him to torture himself, but he was determined to make it happen. you were going to be his no matter how long it’d take.

“you’ve gotten so good at begging me for it, you don’t even put up a fight with me anymore.” rafe laughed, thinking about all the times that you were the one turning him down, now you found yourself being completely at his mercy. “..fuck you.” you whined, writhing under your sheets. “soon enough.” rafe whispered, still listening to your pleads. “i could make myself cum right now,” you said breathlessly, “..and you wouldn’t even be able to stop me.” rafe’s jaw clenched, his nostrils flaring slightly as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“do that and you won’t hear from me for three weeks straight. thank god for a block button, right?” you scoffed, your chest rising and falling as you rubbed your thighs together. “matter of fact.. just for that poor excuse of a threat, you’re not cumming at all.” you didn’t get to rebuttal before he hung up, your eyes widening before you groaned. asshole.

“okay, i love our little bottomless mimosa dates but i’m still recovering from last night.” chanel laughed, adjusting the sunnies on her nose. you and your group of girlfriends were out on the patio at the country club, your table filled with fruity drinks and half empty glasses. “oh my god, you should’ve been there, y/n! it got so crazy that someone called the cops and the whole thing had to get shut down.”

you were only paying half attention to what was being said, majority of your focus being.. elsewhere. specifically— rafe out on the golf field, his skin glistening with sweat as the blazing outer banks sun beat down on him. “it sounds crazy.” you hummed, nodding even though you only heard the first half of chanel’s sentence. she eyed you, following your line of vision before a smug grin pulled at her lips.

“so.. how come you’ve been m.i.a?” just as rafe looked up to meet your gaze, you snapped out of your reverie, blinking away. “forreal, it’s like you’ve disappeared these past few weeks.” you looked around at your friends, a nervous laugh escaping from you. how do you even explain to anyone— let alone your best friends, that you haven’t been to any parties or hangouts because you’re too busy getting talked through your third, sometimes fourth, orgasm of the night?

it’s simple; you don’t.

“i’ve been doing a lot of stuff for my parents. it just gets so tiring sometimes, you know?” chanel knew you were lying, but that was a conversation for another time. thankfully, no one questioned you any further and you were free to look back at the man who, for some reason unbeknownst to you, has been plaguing your mind. ever since your little awkward debacle on his boat, you two hadn’t really interacted with one another except the weird lingering stares you’d catch each other doing. you’d be lying if you said things didn’t feel a little bland without having him around as much.

“i’ll be right back.” you excused yourself, swinging your purse over your shoulder as you made your way inside. taking a seat at the empty bar, you looked around cautiously before opening your tumblr messages.

[3:08 PM] brattydiaries: i have on a super short skirt today.. maybe you could catch me somewhere

you stared at the screen for a minute, hoping he’d answer right away before you sighed to yourself and rested your chin in your hand. apart of you couldn’t help but feel bad. you should be outside with your friends right now, engaging in the latest island drama and raving about celebrity gossip but instead you’re here at a bar all by yourself feeling pathetic as ever because you couldn’t help but grow semi-attached to this ‘countryclub’ guy.

“can i buy you something to drink?” you looked up at rafe as he took a seat next to you, his large frame still towering over you even while he was sitting down. your heart started beating in your ears at the close proximity, your eyebrows pinching together at the overwhelming feeling currently swimming in your tummy. you never got nervous in front of guys, but all of a sudden rafe’s thigh is brushing against yours and now you’re shy? gross.

“i was just leaving actually.” you cleared your throat, avoiding the burn of his stare on the side of your face as you quickly scooted out from your chair. you didn’t even get to get up before rafe pushed your seat back in. “i wanna talk to you.” he sounded like he wasn’t going to take no for an answer, the firmness in his tone making you swallow thickly. staring at him for a few moments, you obliged, but not before ordering the most expensive thing on the drink menu.

“so what do you want?” you faced him, watching as he downed his scotch. “i, uhm— are you busy this weekend?” arching a brow, you thanked the bartender once he slid your overly dressed up cocktail in front of you. “yes, very.” no, you weren’t, but he didn’t need to know that. “well.. i would really appreciate it if you could make the time to come over to my place, ‘say around seven?” you blinked, not understanding clearly. “what’s the occasion?” you asked confusingly. “no, not a party. just us two.”

that grabbed your attention immediately. you sat there, replaying his words in your head until it finally registered. “just us? at your house this weekend at seven o’clock?” he nodded. “i already told you i’m never having sex with you, rafe.” the man in front of you rolled his eyes before pinching the bridge of his nose. “god, y/n,” he groaned, “as much as you’re breaking my heart right now, that’s not the reason why i’m inviting you over.” you giggled at the annoyed expression on his face, flipping your hair over your shoulder as he glared at you intently.

“so what’s the reason then? why would i ever go over to your place, rafe? enlighten me. please.” while rafe was secretly hoping you’d just agree and go on with your day, he should’ve known you weren’t going to be easy to obtain. sighing, he leaned in closer, his chest brushing the side of your shoulder. “look; last time we were by ourselves you told me that you didn’t like me because i was talking about you first, which by the way— i want to apologize for,” he started, “i feel like we got off on the wrong foot and i wanna start over.” you turned your head, his face just inches away from your own.

“i should’ve never said anything about you without knowing you first.” you two stayed silent for what felt like an eternity before you softly nudged him away. “okay, i get it, you don’t have to get all softie on me, rafe.” the corner of his lips tugged into a smile when he saw how flustered you got. “is that a yes?” you almost lost it when his fingers brushed yours, your stomach bursting with buttetflies at the small action. “fine,” you sighed, “but i still don’t like you.” rafe blinked slowly, restraining himself from jumping out of his chair. “that’s fine, i’m not asking you to.”

just as you were going to smart mouth him, your phone dinged! with a message from chanel. “well thanks for the drink, i’m going back out.” rafe watched you get up, his eyes trailing down your figure until they settled on your bare legs, your heels clicking against the floor as you walked off. “hey, y/n?” you spun around at the sound of his voice, muttering a ‘what?!’ before he winked.

“cute skirt.”

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spider-stark · 11 months ago

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LADY STRONG

Benjicot Blackwood x Velaryon/Strong!Reader

Summary - Stuck in the Riverland's on a marriage tour, you pretend to be Lady Strong when Benjicot Blackwood doesn't recognize you as the Princess of the Seven Kingdoms

Warnings - none except not edited!!

Word Count - 3.1k

!MINORS DNI!

// masterlist // send me your thoughts // comments & reblogs appreciated! //

As if the prospect of a marriage tour was not horrid enough, your first stop was proving to be positively dreadful.

You had imagined the lands surrounding the Trident to be beautiful. A lush, verdant landscape—filled with fragrant herbs and bright, blooming flowers, painting the Riverlands in rich, colorful hues. You pictured babbling streams and plush grass, stunning castles and, perhaps, some equally as stunning men.

What you hadn’t imagined, however, was the weather.

Even from within the confines of Riverrun—the ancestral castle of House Tully—you still feel the effects of the merciless heat beating down upon the sandstone walls.

Your handmaids had tried to dress you accordingly, stuffing you into your thinnest—and, consequently, your least regal—gown, in hopes that it might prevent sunstroke. Yet still, even as three of Lord Tully’s own servants try fanning you while you sulk in the dining hall, you feel as though every inch of your body is drenched in sticky sweat.

“This is miserable,” you groan to Ser Lorent, the Kingsguard who had been assigned to your tour. Flanking your right, you spare the knight a pitiful, sidelong glance. “I believe I would sooner die a spinster than be forced to live in this sweltering purgatory!”

The servants, haphazardly positioned around the table, remain utterly stone-faced, not letting on if they found your comment about their homelands to be humorous or offensive.

Ser Lorent merely laughs. “The Riverlands are known for their humid summers, princess.” With a wink, he adds, “If you ever bothered with your studies, you would know this.”

“I study!”

“With the blade, perhaps,” Ser Lorent muses, his teal eyes twinkling with lighthearted mockery. “But certainly not with books, princess.

Rolling your eyes, you slump further into your chair, your body practically melting into the upholstery. “Leave the geography lessons to Jace,” you tell him, waving an idle hand. “After all, he's the heir to the Iron Throne. I am merely the prized broodmare—” focusing on your plate, and the half-eaten lunch upon it, you try swallowing the bitter tang now filling your mouth—“a royal womb to be sold off to the highest bidder.”

And, at times, you aren’t even sure if that is considered an honest truth… You’ve certainly never felt royal.

Like your brothers, you were born extraordinarily plain-featured. With no silver hair or lilac eyes, you appear more like a common-born peasant than someone of prized Valyrian stock—and it didn’t help that, unlike your brothers, you had no dragon, either.

Ser Lorent watches as you absently push a piece of seared cod around your plate, sighing. “That isn’t true, my princess.” His words are tinged with sympathy. “You are being sold to no one. Your mother wishes for you to have a marriage born of love—not duty.”

“Ah, yes,” stabbing the fish with the prongs of your fork, you bring it to your lips, “which is why I’m being forced to spend my summer meeting with the haughty sons of fat country lords—for love.”

His tongue clicks with disapproval. “Your mother has given you a choice in selecting your own husband, princess; which is a luxury not granted to many women.”

Frowning, you pop the piece of fish into your mouth, turning his words over in your head.

Gods.

You hate it when he’s right.

“Fine,” you relent, still chewing. Turning sideways in your chair, you raise your fork to him in a mock threat, “But my earlier statement stands! If I must take a husband, then it certainly won’t be anyone from here—lest I become no more than a puddle of sweat.”

Ser Lorent cracks a smile at you. “Should you turn to a puddle, princess, then I vow to mop you from the floor.”

“How valiant of you, Ser Lorent,” you laugh. “I’m unsure of how I might ever repay you for such loyalty.”

“I’m not sure you have to worry about that, princess—I don’t believe that puddles are much concerned with matters of debt.”

Turning back to the table, another soft laugh spills from your lips. “I suppose you’re right, Ser.”

All too soon, however, your amusement begins to fade. A warm breeze blows in through the many open windows lining Riverrun’s dining hall, the stifling air only accentuating the stickiness of your skin.

Sucking in a deep, heavy breath, you ask, “How long do we have?”

Ser Lorent doesn’t ask for clarification, knowing almost at once what you were asking him. “We’re expected back in the Great Hall in a little under an hour, princess.”

You blow the breath out, groaning slightly.

An hour—that's all the time you had left before you would be forced back upon the dais, expected to once again smile and be cordial as men and boys from all across the Riverlands made their case for your hand.

How many of them could possibly be left? This morning alone you had met with dozens upon dozens of them, their voices all blurring into a monotonous hum as they spoke of the history of their Houses—if one can consider nonsensical legends from the ancient Age of Heroes as true history, that is.

Noticing the dreadful pall cast over you, Ser Lorent clamps a comforting hand on your shoulder. “How about a walk before we go back? It might help to clear your head,” he suggests. Then, with a wry grin, “Perhaps you might wish to think back on the men from this morning—see if any of them might make you change your tune about life in the Riverlands.”

You pin him with a playful scowl. “There’s not a man alive that could change that tune,” you vow. “But you’re right—a walk might be nice.”

Rising from your seat, the servants around you lower their fans, silently dismissing themselves.

“Will you be accepting my company on this walk?” Ser Lorent teases—though you know what he’s really asking is: will you be accepting my protection.

“After this morning, I believe I’ve had enough company for a lifetime.”

The knight’s brow draws tight, an apprehensive frown beginning to pull at the corners of his lips. You roll your eyes.

“Oh, don’t worry so much, Ser Lorent. It gives you wrinkles,” you tease. Adjusting the slit running along one side of your dress, you reveal the dagger holstered on your thigh. “I assure you that if any of these Riverlanders dare lay a hand on me, they’ll lose some fingers.”

Ser Lorent snorts, head shaking. “It’s not you I worry about, princess,” he jokingly admits. “Just stay close by, understand? Your mother will have my head if anything happens to you.”

“Yes, yes—understood,” you dramatically gripe, already walking past him to the exit.

“Oh, and princess?” He calls out just as the guards pull the doors open for you to leave. You glance over your shoulder at him, brows lifted. “At least try not to injure anyone.”

With one last roll of your eyes, bright with mischief, you shout on your way out, “No promises, Ser Lorent!”

Wandering through the outer yards of Riverrun, the blistering sun beating down upon your skin, you find yourself overwhelmed by a sudden ache in your chest.

You miss home. Desperately.

You miss Dragonstone’s near-constant cover of clouds, forever shielding you from the heat. You miss the cool breeze rolling in off the Blackwater, the air peppering your cheeks with salty kisses.

But even as you dream of a reprieve from the muggy Riverlands, you can’t help but miss your family—your brothers—most of all.

Perhaps it is that feeling that led you here, to the training yard, guided by the familiar lull of splintering wood and steel slicing through the air, the sound offering a much-needed remedy to the homesickness twisting in your gut.

Smaller than the one at Dragonstone, Riverrun’s yard was no more than a cramped stretch of dusty-dirt, lined with old training dummies and archery targets. Mostly encircled by the towering sun-bleached stones of the castles, only a small part of the yard remained open to the sprawling gardens beyond, sectioned off by ornate iron fencing.

Striding over the open gate, your attention falls upon the lone boy standing in the yard's center.

As the sunlight beats down overhead, long shadows dance around his feet as he glides through a set of movements—each step calculated, every strike deliberate.

You step closer, keeping your steps light as you approach. With his back turned to you, you watch as sweat drips down his neck, glistening. It soaks into his tunic, the thin black material clinging to his lean, muscled back.

He’s talented—you think, studying his form.

Talent is something you're familiar with—intimately. You were raised around warriors—trained by the Rogue Prince himself. Yet never before had you found yourself so utterly bewitched by a fighter.

He didn’t move like other boys.

He wasted no time on the flowery style displayed by so many summer children—the ones who thought of battle as a performance rather than a matter of life or death.

Instead, he moved with the lethal prowess of an apex predator—his blade cutting through the air with a controlled ferocity that, while lacking the flourish of other warriors, was undeniably impressive.

Dirt flies as he throws himself into another set of movements—a series of strikes and parries, executing with unbelievable precision. With every twist and pivot, muscles tense and shift beneath his tunic, his body as powerful a weapon as his sword.

He lunges forward—and wood cracks! as he slashes his blade along the belly of one of the dummies, a move that would have disemboweled a living opponent.

Cutting through the sudden stillness, you bring your hands up to your chest, filling the yard with a slow clap. Back still turned to you, the boy's spine goes ramrod straight at the unexpected sound.

“Impressive,” you muse, taking another step towards him. Mere feet remain between the two of you, now. “You move well—better than most, I’d say.”

The boy spins around to face you, his once elegant movements now blundering as he nearly trips over his own feet. Biting your tongue, you try to hold in a laugh.

Big, storm-cloud eyes meet your gaze, pinning you in place as he blinks, visibly thrown-off by your presence. “Sorry-” he stammers, out of breath. “I didn’t think anyone else would be coming out here-”

You lift a hand, cutting him off with a smile. “Oh, no—don’t apologize on my account! I enjoyed the show,” you tell him. “Seems that you have a real talent for swordplay.”

His cheeks flush, his lightly sun-kissed skin turning a stark crimson. “Thanks.” His laugh is a nervous, awkward thing—endearing, too. He sticks a hand out towards you, the other still limply holding his sword. “Benjicot. Blackwood,” he introduces himself, fumbling over his words, “but you can call me Ben or Benji—or anything, really.”

You take his hand, biting your lip to mask your amusement. “Pleasure to meet you, Benji.”

A beat of silence passes before confusion finally tugs at his features, his hand falling back to his side. “Uhm—” another sweet, awkward laugh— “and you are…?”

Realization dawns on you, leaving your brows to shoot up to your hairline.

Seven Hells. He doesn't know, does he?

A sudden speechlessness grabs hold of your tongue.

You suppose you shouldn’t be surprised—after all, you aren't what many expected of a Targaryen princess.

Plain-featured and dressed in thin, common clothes, you imagine you likely appear no different than the servants surrounding you at lunch, fanning you to keep the heat from going to your head.

Even so, it's rare that you met someone who doesn't know who you are. And, selfishly, after a morning filled with insincere compliments from haughty Lord’s, you like the idea of remaining nameless—titleless—for the first time in your life.

“Wow—sorry—that was thoughtless of me, wasn’t it?” Tapping a finger to your temple, you laugh. “I’m Mylissa,” you lie, stealing the name of one of your handmaidens. “Mylissa Strong.”

“Strong?” He echoes, brow furrowing. “Strange—you don’t sound like you’re from the Riverlands. Your accent is—”

“Southern?”

Benji nods.

“Well, I’ve spent the better part of my life in the Crownlands, so I suppose I’ve picked up their accent,” you explain. “I’m here with the princess, actually—as her lady-in-waiting.”

The mention of the princess—you—turns his skin a pasty white.

Keeping a tight leash on your curiosity, you try not to sound too intrigued when you ask, “And what about you? Raventree Hall is a decent ride from here, is it not?” On horseback, the ancestral seat of House Blackwood was two days away from Riverrun, if not three. “Are you here to meet with the princess?”

Benji shifts his weight, leaning from one foot to the other. “Supposed to,” he begins, his words tumbling out, “but I don’t know—I’m not so sure that I’ll go through with it.”

Your expression falters, disappointment washing over you like a cold wave, combatting the intolerable warmth of the sun.

“Why not?”

He shrugs—a timid, shy gesture that feels so unlike the predator you had snuck up on. “There are over a hundred men in there,” he waves an arm to the castle, to the Great Hall within, “all waiting for an opportunity to impress the princess—meanwhile, I can hardly get out a single sentence without choking on my own spit.”

Your laughter bubbles up involuntarily, a few giggles spilling past your lips. The Blackwood boy shoots you a playful glare from beneath long, dark lashes.

“Well,” you begin, absentmindedly toeing the dirt between you, “perhaps the princess might find it endearing, don’t you think?”

Benji scoffs. “Doubtful. I mean, think about it!—she’s a princess!”

Your eyes widen, glimmering with mock-offense. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

Once again, that crimson tinge returns to his skin, crawling up his neck, this time.

“I meant no offense,” he defends himself, mistaking your expression for one of a Lady meaning to defend her princess. “But what could I possibly offer a princess?”

You tilt your head, pretending to think on his words. “Well, the Blackwoods do have a history of being valiant warriors, do they not? And you seem to be quite skilled yourself,” you say, daring to let your stare drift down to his arms, the short sleeves of his tunic revealing well-muscled, sweat-slick biceps.

He snorts. “I’m willing to guess that the princess would likely care naught for my skill with a sword.”

“Then you would guess wrong,” you retort, a faint, teasing smile on your lips. “Many say that the princess herself is quite skilled with a blade—I imagine she would quite like a boy that’s capable of challenging her.”

Benji’s eyes darken a shade, an unreadable expression crossing his features. “And what about you, Mylissa?”

The false name catches you off-guard, but you do your best to hide it.

“What of me?”

A bit nervous, he asks, “Would you like a boy that can challenge you?”

Your heart stutters in your chest—skipping several beats as his stare lowers, dipping past your waist and falling upon your thigh. On the dagger sheathed there, no doubt.

Heat begins to crawl up your neck, hotter even than the sun's blistering rays. “Oh—” You stutter, words lost upon you.

It’s true that you were used to the attention of men. After all, your morning has been filled with it, and soon enough the rest of your day will be, too.

But this was different.

Benji wasn’t giving you attention because you’re a princess, a mere royal womb to strengthen his House’s bloodline. Rather, he was doing it simply because he wanted to—a feeling that was utterly foreign to you.

Wiping a clammy hand on his sweaty tunic, Benji misreads your silence, taking a half-step back. “Apologies, my Lady—that was too forward and-”

You don’t let him finish his rambling. Taking a step forward, you close the gap he sought to create between you. “I’ll make you a deal.”

“A deal?”

You nod. “As you know, the princess will be in the Great Hall for the rest of the evening, holding court with the other Lord’s who’ve come for her hand. I'd like for you to meet with her.”

Benji cocks his head, confusion crinkling the corners of his eyes. “I truly mean no disrespect to your princess, my Lady, but I was asking if you might be interested in–”

“I know what you’re asking, Benji.” You lift one shoulder in a casual shrug. “And after you meet with the princess, if you still wish to inquire about my hand,” you say, placing a palm to your chest, “then I will happily hear you out.”

In the distance, a bell sounds out—signaling the time, you realize.

“If you’ll excuse me,” you start, already taking a few small half-steps backwards. “I’m expected inside.”

Letting his sword drop to the ground, Benji lunges forward to catch your wrist. “So you agree to meet with me after court, then?”

“If you’re still interested,” you muse, a tinge of anxiety laced through your tone, “then yes.”

The corners of his lips twitch into a bashful smile. “I give you my word that–”

You planned to interrupt him. To tell him not to make oaths he wasn’t certain he could keep, knowing that he may very well change his mind about you once he realizes who you are—that you’re not technically a Strong. But, before you can, another voice intervenes.

“Princess!” Ser Lorent calls out, exasperated, as he walks through the gate. “We must hurry, princess,” he continues, pausing only to give a wary glance at Benji’s hands wrapped around your wrist. “We’re late.”

Your pulse begins to pound, a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins at being exposed as a liar by Ser Lorent.

Benji’s face goes blank—then his eyes go wide, big as saucers as you snag your wrist from his grip.

“Princess...” He utters, voice laden with disbelief. “Princess?!”

You can hardly bring yourself to do anything other than grin stupidly at him, nearly stumbling over yourself as you back-up to where Ser Lorent is waiting impatiently.

“It was lovely meeting you, Benji!”

You hope he can hear just how genuine your words are.

“I’ll see you in the Great Hall,” you call out over your shoulder, sparing him one last glance as Ser Lorent guides you to the gate, watching as he blinks in astonishment, still processing the revelation.

Walking back towards the inner-castle, Ser Lorent glances down at you with a knowing look. “You seem giddy.” There’s a teasing glint to his words that makes you roll your eyes, cheeks flushing. “So,” he continues, his brisk pace never faltering, “does this mean that your statement from lunch no longer stands? That, perhaps, this sweltering purgatory may yet grow on you?”

You bite your cheek, a permanent grin still etched onto your face.

“Let’s just say that I’ve decided it’s best to keep my options open, Ser Lorent.”

a/n - you may ask yourself: lainie, why would you refer to him as mostly BEN in the last fic and BENJI in this one??

and the answer? I have not ONE clue. my brain is rotting and benji is cute.

anyways, hope you guys enjoy this one! feel like I got to explore more of his personality here. additionally, I need HBO to know that if this boy ends up not being benjicot blackwood then I'm gonna fucking riot

benjicot blackwood tag list - @a-song-for-ages @ghostinvenus

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kurooh · 5 months ago

Text

PROFESSIONAL ( AT LOVIN’ ) !

⊹₊˚. HAWKS’ BDAY 2024 — after six months of being his press agent’s friend with all kinds of benefits, keigo struggles to find a way to tell you that he can’t keep up his side of the agreement any longer. / or, his heart’s been in it since the very beginning.

word count: 14.3K (um….please read🧎‍♀️)

warnings: 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, friends with benefits -> lovers, angst, unprotected sex, creampies, cunnilingus, drinking (everyone is mid twenties), dirty talk, squirting once, office sex.

xoxo, juno: happy LATE birthday to keigo <33 WOOO first fic of 2025 and it’s the longest one i’ve ever written.. inspired by the weeknd’s kissland! hope you enjoy, love you guys :,) 🩷

“this pussy of yours is pretty fuckin’ greedy, huh?”

“how could i not be when you always fuck me so g-good?” the filthy words rush out of your mouth in a surge of euphoria that has taken over your cognitive functions and renders you clinically cock drunk. in this state, things you’d normally never agree to are suddenly more alluring than a shiny trinket to a nesting bird. sex on the roof of the heroes’ safety commission is outlandish and obscene (you’d used those words when keigo had first brought it up in jest) — but here you are getting plowed by none other than the no. 2 hero of japan.

“aw, dovey,” keigo coos, gloved hand closing around the slope of your neck and tugging you back into his chest, “you’ve always got the best compliments, don’t ya?”

“ah, r-right there!” you gasp, eyes rolling back into your skull as your third orgasm of the half hour boils in your tummy like magma in an explosive volcano. “shit, kei, ‘m gonna cum again..”

“heh, go ahead ‘n let it out for me,” the heel of his other hand digs hard into the plush skin above your pubic bone and the crude slapping of skin against skin grows louder. “c’mon, baby, cum all over this cock. show me how good you feel, yeah?”

“yeah,” you whimper, desperately throwing your ass back onto his cock to get him even deeper, “oh my god, keigo, fuuuck—‘m cumming!”

it nearly sweeps you off your feet, the strength of your blissful orgasm leaving you shaking violently and clenching uncontrollably on keigo’s cock. his teeth sharply sink into his lower lip when he quickly pulls out of you, lamely stroking himself to completion above your ass and spraying strings of ivory onto your skin. your body is slick with sweat and now cum, but the messiness of the situation doesn’t hit you quite yet — you’re busy trying to catch your breath while he hangs his head lowly behind you.

keigo still holds you upright on legs of jelly, lightly beating his wings to help stabilize himself. watchful gold eyes sweep over your body, doing a once over and admiring every inch of you. he’s always considered you as the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, and has always felt lucky to touch you — so why does he feel so damn unfulfilled? it’s probably a form of karma; keigo hasn’t ever had a consistent relationship, all due to his own actions. so many of his old girlfriends had clashed with him over his neglectful habits — his inability to give them time, attention, and effort. all of his relationships began positively, then quickly deteriorated into toxicity he’d grown tired of dealing with.

he’d been single for a year, and went without sex for longer. if he didn’t always have the press looming over his shoulder and scrutinizing each of his damn movements, he would’ve been able to get his dick wet sooner! keigo would certainly never admit it, but the total deprivation has been a good thing, allowing him to reset and understand why those relationships had completely gone downhill. at the time, he’d pettily blamed his girlfriend or the new guy she’d moved on with.

you let out a tired puff of breath and break away from his hold too soon just to look at your phone, which is sitting on top of keigo’s jacket. “so, my lunch break isn’t over just yet. we can hit the sandwich place around the block if you’re up for it?”

god, you’ve got that lazy smile playing on your lips like it always does after he’s made you cum. how is it possible for someone to look so elegant even as she buttons her blouse and wipes cum off her ass with a spare napkin? his brain literally short circuits when you hand him his jacket, plush lips shaping around a word. words. didn’t you just say something? maybe his post nut clarity has faded into obscurity, or he’s lost his hearing from how hard he just came.

“keigo,” you sigh, snapping your fingers in front of his face and briefly contemplating slapping him out of his stupor, “is the light on upstairs?”

a shiver jolts through him despite the fact that the weather’s warm, and his disassociated eyes finally hone in on you, standing right in front of him. “yeah, sorry. what’d you say earlier?”

you shrug on your suit jacket and slip into your heels. “i’m still free. we can grab sandwiches around the block if you’d like.”

so thoughtful. his heart swells happily at the prospect of eating lunch with you. it always does, usually accompanied with a flip in his stomach, whenever he tags along on something you’re doing, whether it’s eating lunch or sorting through lengthy documents after the office closes.

“sounds good. are we walking or flying, dovey?” your favorite sex petname rolls off his tongue naturally, and after months of this arrangement, you’ve stopped correcting him.

“let’s just walk,” you say decisively, wrapping the used napkin in another, “it attracts less press, showbird.”

☆ ☆

still thrumming with the sensations of sex, keigo walks into the restaurant behind you, piping up to place his order and then to swipe his card for the lunch. he dutifully waits at the table while you stand at the counter, glancing at your phone every now and then to alleviate the impatient boredom that accompanies most edible purchases. keigo allows himself a moment of respite, and instead of looking at his phone, he looks at you — particularly the way your clothes hug the slopes and curves of your body, much like he does when he’s coming down from an orgasm.

it was exactly eight months ago when keigo had first laid eyes on you. he knew right then and there that under no circumstances would he allow his old persona to shine through or mess things up between the two of you. for the first two months out of those eight, keigo had befriended you (with much encouragement from his friend mirko, bless her) and spent time getting to know you as a person over friendly lunches and the occasional drink. he’d committed each of your stories to memory and marked your birthday down on the calendar, something he’d never done for anyone else before. the beginning of everything was after one of those rare drinks that had landed you in keigo’s apartment and sitting criss-crossed on his bed, discussing your unlucky love life.

he’d listened with rapture as you pored over the freaks you’d met and gone out with in detail, mistakenly trusting your friends to set you up with someone nice on a blind date. in their defense, you’d drunkenly mumbled, it’s not their fault that there’s so many people catfishing. one inebriated conversation led to another, and you’d happened upon the fact that neither of you hadn’t had any good sex in a very long time. in the morning, you came into work late and sore all over, but also newly enlightened. for the past six months, you’ve successfully maintained a friends with benefits relationship with keigo takami, the no. 2 hero of japan.

“this one’s yours. here’s the receipt,” you push him a tightly wrapped sub sandwich and his tab.

he catches the sandwich after letting it spin on the table like an arrow on a game spinner, then crumples the receipt. “why don’t you believe me when i say i enjoy paying for you, hm?”

you sigh after a bite. “it makes me feel like a sugar baby . . but also, i can pay for myself.”

“so you’re either saying i’m old or rich,” keigo chuckles when you roll your eyes dramatically, “i know you can, but just let me spoil you, dovey.”

you knew it was a losing game the moment you brought it up, cheeks heating a little at the implication of his words. maybe being his baby isn’t that bad. conversation comes to a comfortable standstill as you both dig into your sandwiches, crumbs falling to the table and making a small mess. when you look up to pause and wipe your mouth, a laugh tumbles out before you can stop it.

“what?” keigo asks confusedly, holding his sandwich tightly and going so far as to swivel around backwards in hopes of pinpointing whatever made you laugh.

you wrap a napkin over your fingers and lean across the table. instinctually, keigo leans in for a kiss, only to be a little more than heartbroken when you swerve to the side and dodge it to instead dab at a streak of mustard across his chin. the sudden intimacy and close proximity cause the apples of his cheeks to turn rosy in embarrassment. “did you just lead me on?” he asks when he notices you giggling at him again, voice taking on a playful and petty tone. “because it totally feels like you did that on purpose.”

“no, keigo,” a wide smile spreads across your face at his usual antics, “you were the one eating so quickly you got mustard all over your face! someone had to clean you up.”

in an instant, his voice drops an octave, becoming low and sultry. “you keep talking like that and i’ll clean you up.”

“i— we’re in public!” you exclaim, a dull ache pulsing between your legs at the thought of him using his tongue on you.

he shrugs noncommittally, feeling triumphant now that he’s briefly flustered you. “public or not, you know you love it. now eat your sandwich.”

“way ahead of you,” heat floods your cheeks as you pick up the sandwich, feeling dirty because of the slick pooling into your underwear. keigo doesn’t understand how easy it is to get you worked up, whether it’s with his words or the mischievous footsie he keeps playing under the table with you. “if i come across a headline about this conversation, i’m gonna kill you.”

☆ ☆

“late night?” keigo hums, shattering your concentration on the current task. startled and disheveled, you glance up just in time to catch his typical smirk. his gold eyes shamelessly rake up and down your body as if he’s spotted something he wants—no, needs—to claim. however, his raunchy ogling comes to a screeching halt when he hones in on the shadowy dark circles beneath your eyes.

“the latest,” you blow out a peeved breath through pursed lips, doing your utmost to avoid looking out the window. it’s completely dark outside, the sky an inky blanket of night and stars over the city. “i’m fucking swamped.”

it comes out bitterly, and keigo cautiously steps forward, wings twitching nervously behind him. that well-groomed mess of vermilion feathers at his back seems to have a mind of its own, constantly betraying their owner by displaying his emotions so openly.

“what, you coming to rescue me?” absentmindedly, you swish around your empty coffee mug. not a single drop flies over the edge, the porcelain totally dry as if it was never used.

“c’monnnn, you know i’m always up to rescue you,” he teases playfully, gently tugging the mug out of your grip and setting a reassuring palm down on your hunched shoulders. “i’ll get us some coffee and help you out when i get back.”

“i highly doubt that you’re qualified to deal with PR work, keigo.” a small though rascally smile plays on your lips, corners flicking up as your sour demeanor starts to mellow out.

he sticks out his tongue and steps out of your office, heading to the kitchen. as his feet quietly pad along the hard carpet, he considers your recent behavior — last week you were fucking around on the roof and then getting sandwiches like it was nobody’s business. keigo was seeing you around the office and outside of it, but the time he’d been spending with you had decreased dramatically over the past few days. the coordinated lunch breaks and escapades were no more, and keigo’s been caught up wondering why. now, the reason for this couldn’t be linked to anything he did or said — still, it’s impossible for him not to overthink.

“god, you’re a lifesaver!” you groan joyously as keigo sets down a full mug of coffee in front of you and away from your laptop and notepad. “thank you for this.”

“slow down, you haven’t even seen the things i can do outside of making coffee.”

you rotate your laptop once he finally takes a seat in front of you, insistently pointing a finger at the various tasks on your metaphorical plate. “if i give you some work, you’ll have to do a lot of proofreading.”

keigo nods, and his eyebrows suddenly pull downwards in a mix of playful confusion and surprise. “wait, is that a virtual shrine dedicated to me?”

“what?” you mutter, squinting your eyes as you frantically look over the computer screen to no avail. “oh, shut up. just start reading while i finish up the rest.”

there’s a pause and a beat of silence as you both settle into your respective assignments.

then, “i actually came to the office because i missed you a little.”

“you what?” you laugh increduously, licking a finger to aid you in flipping through paperclipped pages. his eyes follow you, from the moment your tongue darts out to wet your skin and then flicks through pages you skim to find what you’re looking for.

“well, i haven’t seen you outside of work in a while,” keigo sniffs, tearing his eyes away from you and refocusing on the words on the screen. at the risk of sounding too vulnerable, he throws in something disgustingly horny to save himself. “was just wondering about my fuck buddy.”

fuck. he’s really cringing now, throat instinctually closing up once he feels waves of nausea crashing over him. but you don’t even bat an eye, too busy setting papers aside in different stacks and barely paying attention to him. “oh, yeah. i’m sorry, it’s just that a ton of people have been dumping so much work on me.”

“so that’s why i’m reading a drafted article enshrining endeavor as number one?” he grins, briefly catching your eyes. you’re not quite sure if it’s the exhaustion finally catching up or something else, but your stomach flutters when you automatically meet his gaze. loose papers drift to the floor, falling right past you.

“yep, that’s why,” you laugh nervously, snatching up the papers so forcefully that they crumple in your grasp. keigo’s always so damn charming, and it affects you more now that you’re so tired. right?

“you want some dinner, dovey?” the affectionate pet name lingers in your mind, echoing loudly until it finally fades into a memory from a while ago. the transition of his affectionate voice into one choked with unadulterated pleasure is seamless, leaving you breathless in an instant. a glance at his wings has you sloppily picturing them fanned out above you and frantically beating the air as keigo ruts his hips into yours . . god, what’s gotten into you? he certainly could.

“i want you,” it slips out before you can stop it or even control it, words laced with a silent desperation only he can detect. “uh, i mean—”

“bold words,” a wolf whistle trills out into the air, reminding you that you’ve now started something you won’t be getting out of easily. “sure you can handle what you’re askin’ for, baby?”

“don’t act like i haven’t countless times before,” you retort, voice a little weaker than you’d like. it’s frustrating, the influence he has over your body — he hasn’t even said anything meaningful and yet heat’s surging to your cheeks while a shiver of excitement ripples through you.

“riiiight. aren’t you the one always saying you can’t handle it? ‘oh, keigo, please! i can’t, i—’”

the endless teasing is just too much — it makes your blood boil, gets your pulse racing, and absolutely does what it was intended to do. your full mug of coffee tips off the edge of the table and spills when you slam the laptop shut, leaping forward to rapidly close the distance between you two. your lips, slightly sticky with coffee, crash onto keigo’s hard, causing your foreheads to knock together too.

it’s a palpable invitation, one that he eagerly accepts without hesitation. his strong hands settle firmly on your hips in an attempt to stop their slight tremble, fingertips pressing into the curve of your waist. he pulls you into his lap and you fall into sync with one another just like always: keigo slips his tongue into your mouth while you tug at his blonde curls. impatience curated by time apart and characterized by frustration has the air in the room sparking with white hot electricity that’s strong enough to cause a power outage — you’re so close to finally scratching that unbearable itch, at least until it comes back tomorrow with much more ferocity.

keigo draws back with a knowing smile, lips curling up. “we should stop, dovey.”

a thin, glossy string of saliva connects your lips to his. you’ve got this desperate, needy look written all over your face, which crumples petulantly as you consider the possibility of being left unsatisfied. something purely horny twists in his chest, alongside his still yearning heart — keigo fucking loves being in control, being the only one who can give you the satisfaction that you so desperately need, but the thought of being something more resurfaces in his mind again.

it always comes to him at the worst times: right now, during a sexual moment, or before he falls asleep and when he opens his eyes to daylight in the morning. it’s eating him up inside, and he’s already too far in to stop — or is he? no, he isn’t! not if he finds a way to extricate himself from the suffocating casualness of this mess and advance whatever’s left into a real relationship, one that’s abundant in love and adoration. the evolution of the relationship hinges on the timing of his love confession, so he’ll definitely plan to wait until you’re not holed up in the office and on his lap looking like you’re about to shed tears.

“i c-can’t,” you gasp breathlessly, heart pounding in your ears, “kei, please— i need you so badly, i’ve been waiting so damn long.”

and who is he to deny you, when you’re begging so beautifully?

“so you missed me?” keigo murmurs, pressing kisses to the column of your throat and savoring the way you softly gasp. this is his moment. he’s going to slyly frame a question for you, and when you answer it correctly, he’ll spring his confession onto you and then give you what you’ve been dying for.

“god, yes,” a moan rushes out from between your lips, head tipping back to give him easier access. with his nose pressed into your skin, keigo blissfully inhales the faint wisps of your favorite perfume. eight months later and you’re still wearing that scent daily, ever since he complimented you the day he met you. “you know i did, keigo.”

“what’d you miss the most?” he smirks between open mouthed kisses, guiding you straight to the answer with his warm hands that slip under your shirt and languidly caress the small of your back.

“your cock, t-the way you fuck me,” you groan, unintentionally shattering his plan into pieces; but he doesn’t let it show, chuckling into your neck as he rapidly snatches them up and off the floor. it’s okay, he’s okay. all he has to do is ask a few more questions and offer up some multiple choice answers — in doing so, he’ll have a chance to tell you how he really feels.

“mmmm, is that all?”

your eyebrows furrow in confusion and you tug him back by the hair, scrutinizing him with eyes clouded by lust and nothing else. a carnation colored flush sits high on his cheekbones, and his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows down a pesky i love you. not now, not here — this isn’t the right moment.

“keigo, why are you questioning me like my boss does?” he blinks, averting his eyes to your glossy neck, shining with his saliva in the dim light. it smells like coffee now, and he’s wondering if it’ll ever get cleaned up, dark liquid overflowing and soaking through the carpet, straight into the floor. he doesn’t want to be like the coffee, forgotten about and lingering in the air since it had fallen off the desk without you having caught it.

keigo knows you — he always has, and it’s too easy to pick up on the unmistakable tension twisted in your question, along with undertones of discomfort and deflection. automatically, he slips back into his typical persona, lips curling into an impish smile while he waggles his eyebrows to emphasize his words. “heh, you’re so impatient. can you blame me for wanting to build things up?”

you visibly relax, plush mouth forming into a pout he wants to kiss away. “i think there’s been plenty of build up. don’t tease me again.”

“yes ma’am,” he replies coolly, lifting his hands into the air in a show of submission. you release his hair and he pulls you into his chest, holding you tightly as he stands up from the chair. it rolls away into a corner, plastic backing hitting the wall with a soft thud just as keigo slams you down on the desk, papers flying every which way.

“keigo, hah, you haven’t even gotten me naked yet,” you sigh, heat rushing to your face as he sinks to his knees on the hard carpet, his eyes never leaving yours. dexterous, impatient fingers find the clasp of your pants, and he drags them down your legs, along with your sticky panties.

“i know,” keigo breathes, pulling your thighs over his shoulders and pulling your hips close to his face, “and yet, you’re already fucking soaked for me. aren’t you, baby?”

“yeah, i am,” you whimper, feeling your cunt clench around nothing when he rewards you by spitting onto your clit. “all for you, kei.”

“you’re so cute.”

you really are, all spread out on the desk, pretty and pliant just for him. there’s not a shred of resistance when he manuvers you closer or teases his fingertips around your quivering hole, ignoring your strained cries for more. dark pupils enlarge against gold irises, and keigo’s wings flutter eagerly as his arousal crashes over him in continuous, steady waves of heat. now that he’s between your legs and focused on his favorite late night snack, the scent of the coffee dissipates along with his thoughts.

“keigo,” you keen, fingers threading through his tousled curls, “please, just—oh god, stop fuckin’ teasing me.”

a sportive smack! lands on the side of your bare ass, kicking up a few papers when you jolt forward in surprise. “easy, baby. easy,” there’s a low, warning pitch in his voice, and you settle down frustratedly, gnawing on your lower lip. keigo’s never been one to rush when it comes to eating your pussy, even during quickies—you’d be more aggravated if he didn’t always make you cum so damn hard. his face is flushed pink and shining with eagerness as he pushes two fingers inside you, fixated on the way they slide in so easily.

he experimentally curls them, and a lick of heat washes over his whole body when he watches your face crumple, head tipping back weakly while you tug at his hair. the blond curls are soft between your fingers, giving you something to grab onto when you need to steady yourself.

“fuckkk,” keigo groans, attaching his rosy lips to your clit and lightly sucking at the swollen, sensitive bud. clumsily, you grind your hips against his mouth, body sweltering as the small office fills with the impolite smacks of his lips and wet squelches of your sloppy cunt. “loosen up for me, baby, you’re too tight.”

a trembly breath leaves your lips as you obediently readjust for him, spreading your legs and trying to relax so he can tug his fingers back. for a moment, he pauses to appreciatively look over his glossy, creamy fingers—he sticks them into his mouth, moaning and squeezing his eyes shut as he puts on a show of swirling his tongue around them like some kind of slut. once he opens his eyes, those piercing gold hues meet your own and he plunges them back inside, making you whimper.

“listen to me, dovey,” keigo murmurs, breath fanning over your wet clit, “i want you cumming hard on my fingers in the next thirty seconds.”

“but—oh,” your voice cracks when he deeply curls his fingers, purposefully interrupting you, “what if it’s not enough? i don’t think i can—”

sharp, pearly teeth lightly graze your clit and make you mewl noisily, the action both a warning and a reward. “yes, you can, dovey,” he utters in a hushed voice, “c’mon, show me you’re a big girl. i’ll be counting for ya.”

with that, keigo dives back in, furiously licking your clit while he roughly curls his fingers into that sweet, spongy spot inside you. it’s probably not serious, but something in your stomach flutters at the thought of disobeying him—if he wants you to cum, you’ll do just that. your hips rock into his tongue, developing a messy rhythm that could possibly rival his own when he’s inside you—he smirks against you, clearly pleased with himself. papers lift into the air, swirling around in a flurry of white as if they’re caught up in a tornado. the source of the miniature storm is his wings, uncontrollably flapping about as he determinedly licks at your clit like a lollipop.

twenty five. a thin sheen of sweat shines on your forehead, making the skin tacky. absentmindedly, you wonder if it could be possible for him to cum in his pants just from eating you out. he certainly enjoys it enough — whenever he says he’s feeling thirsty or hungry, he’ll end up eating you out for so long you pass out by your seventh orgasm.

twenty. keigo’s absorbed in the smell, sight, and taste of you. nothing’s better than watching you fall apart on him, dewy tears in your eyes as you fight back overstimulation or impatience. but this is new: he’s never demanded you to cum after setting a time limit in place. it occurs to him now that he didn’t think far enough ahead to answer the question you’ll probably end up asking afterwards, something along the lines of ‘what would’ve happened if i didn’t cum?’ . .

fifteen. with your eyes rolling back into your head as your hips lurch off the desk, a bit of drool pours down your chin. covered in a mixture of sweat, spit, and slick, you’re at a loss for words as keigo’s damn tongue rolls over your clit again and again. perhaps you’re too dazed, but you swear you feel him etch the letters of his name into you with the tip of his tongue.

ten. keigo’s pussydrunk, soaking his boxers with precum as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge. his eyes are dark with lust, and the rosy skin of his cheeks and chin is smeared with that sticky wetness he just can’t get enough of. all of your muscles pull taut like a bowstring, and you sob out his name, pushing his face into you as euphoria hits you from every direction and all at once.

“kei, oh my god, ‘m gonna fucking cum,” within seconds of your frantic gasps, you abruptly gush on his fingers, hard enough to push them out of you — cum squirts from your cunt, getting onto his face when he curiously leans in to lick it away.

you don’t get a second to come down from your high because keigo roughly licks you through it as if he’s severely dehydrated. “mmmph!” you squeal, hips immediately pulling away from him like he’s given you an electric shock. “wai—wait, keigo, it’s way too much!”

he relents, rolling his eyes as if he doesn’t believe you. “fine, fiiiiine. you win this one, dovey.”

“pants off.”

he quirks an eyebrow but starts to undo his belt, letting it fall to the floor with a soft bang. “you’re so fucking greedy, i swear.”

you throw him a glare, wiping sweat off of your forehead as you sit up, slowly hopping off of the desk.

papers fall all around you, quietly crinkling as they hit the floor and surround the desk in a sloppy circle. your lips press into a thin line as you take the sight in, mildly exasperated by the mess you’ll force him to clean up. “on the desk, keigo. tuck your wings in too.”

he laughs in disbelief, used to calling the shots when it comes to sex, “so demanding, baby.”

you fix him with a serious look, crossing your arms over your chest while papers ride the dying currents of air made by his wings. keigo clears his throat and folds his wings close to his back, “yes ma’am.”

his flushed cock is rock hard, bobbing as he settles onto the desk; it’s fraught with veins and beautifully curved to one side, something you’re endlessly thankful for when he’s inside you. above him, you’re dripping wet and ready to take him deep — keigo shudders when you grip the base of his cock, carefully balancing yourself on the desk so that you can easily sit down on it.

“holy—oh, shit,” he curses, abs clenching beneath his clothing as he forces himself to keep his hips down. if you want to take control, he’ll give it to you — anything you could ever want is immediately yours. bleary gold eyes clear up and hone in on where you’re connected; your pussy swallows his cock whole like it’s nothing, leaving him breathless.

you swallow, gnawing at your lower lip, “i’ve fucking missed this, kei. been s-so long.”

memories from your most favorite escapades rush back to you so quickly your head spins, momentarily distracting you from the task at hand. there’s a beat of silence before keigo grips your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he borderline begs you, “baby, c’mon, fuck me already.”

“don’t tell me what to do,” you breathe, placing your hands in the center of his chest to hold yourself up, “you don’t get to do that right now, keigo.”

“god, you’re gonna kill me.”

maybe you won’t, but your hips will — they start to move until you’re bouncing roughly on his cock, letting his tip bully itself against your cervix. it’s the kind of kiss that only the two of you can understand, filled with affection and an hungry obsession for more.

for what seems to be the hundredth time, this mahogany desk is christened with more sex. skin claps against skin, filling the room with the same applause that echoes in a theater after a successful show; the whole building is empty, and it’s only your window that’s flooded with fluorescent light in the otherwise dark night.

“dovey,” keigo moans, voice cracking on the familiar pet name, “if you keep going like this, i’m—i’m not gonna last much longer.”

you don’t answer, eyes squeezing shut against the burn of exhaustion setting into your muscles. handsy as always, he grabs at your tits, pulling you further on top of him and taking a hardened nipple into his mouth.

the sharp edges of his pearly teeth drag against your skin as he sucks, golden eyes shutting once he hears your whiny moans grow louder. you’re fluid and all too smooth, riding his cock into oblivion while working in these little humps against his pelvis that don’t disturb the rhythm you’ve built up. your clit drags across his skin deliciously—shit, it’s possible that you could cum together.

“haah, baby,” keigo trembles beneath you, wings spreading out and quivering against his will. “i’m so damn close, i want—” it nearly sounds too intimate, but he ignores the voice in the back of his mind and focuses on his impending orgasm that’s fighting its way out of him. “shit, i just want you to cum with me.”

sensitivity creeps up your spine and makes your body ripple with a shudder, “r-rub my clit ‘n i will, kei.”

everything happens so damn fast; it doesn’t take long for your body to respond to his frenetic touch, and you completely fall apart on his cock, triggering his own high. while your cunt desperately grips him like a vice, he’s shooting endless ropes of cum deep against your cervix. ultimately, it was pointless for him to fold up his wings — they’ve fought against him like usual, strewing more papers around the room and knocking objects off of your desk.

“d-don’t move just yet,” he wheezes, holding your hips in place the moment you try to retreat, “just stay here for a second, dovey.”

a mixture of slick and cum is smeared in the wispy beige hair that adorns his pelvis, and he looks at you pleadingly, cheeks a blotchy pink. it’s cute, but not nearly convincing enough for you to stay much longer than half a minute. “c’mon, i’ve got some stuff to finish up.”

begrudgingly, keigo lets you go and winces as you pull off of his cock. it flops lamely against his stomach, cum dribbling down the sides and adding to the creamy ring around the base. he sighs, unsurprised by your eagerness to depart — his thighs are cooling now that you’re no longer sitting on top of them.

“that was good,” you say, voice layered with praise as you stand on the tips of your toes and peck an appreciative kiss to his cheek, “let’s get started on sorting papers, shall we?”

you’re already across the room before he can grab your waist and show you what a real kiss feels like, slipping through his fingers like fine grains of sand each and every time.

☆ ☆

rules are the stitches in the seams of anything, always there to hold things tightly in place. it’s natural to break a few every now and then, but what if there are some that should be broken? perhaps they tend to hold things back rather than securely in place.

“okinawa’s just beautiful,” keigo says wistfully, reminiscing about white sand beaches and the bird’s eye view of colorful tourist umbrellas dotting the shoreline from above. there’s a small glitch in his memories that adds you to the scene in a bikini, sunbathing on a towel while he convinces you to come swim in the water with him. he hears himself say something impulsive, but he doesn’t regret it. “maybe we can go on a trip there together. i’ll fly us.”

you stir your drink with a straw, watching the alcohol whirl around ice. “ah, i think we should build up to that, keigo. you’re forgetting that i’ve never flown around that far with you before.”

“we could always change that,” he replies, voice suave. “nighttime is the best time to fly.”

“someday i might just take you up on it,” a laugh spills out of your mouth after a gulp of sweetened tequila, and keigo’s face softens. one of the things he loves most about you is the fact that you’re not afraid to be yourself around him, never once hiding a smile or laugh. “anyway, is there anywhere you haven’t traveled?”

“hmm, let me think,” he raises his fingers to his chin and ponders momentarily, although the answer had come to him the moment you’d started to ask the question. “well, there’s your house.”

you shake your head, nudging his wrist with your own. “noooo, i’m talking about other countries and cities. haven’t you flown out of japan?”

“only to okinawa,” he supplies, wings twitching anxiously. whenever he brings up your home in the city or worse, him going to it, you always clam up or push him away. granted, it was a boundary line you’d marked in the sand when you’d gotten into this reciprocal relationship all those months ago. escapades have taken place everywhere but your home—he could count on one hand the amount of times he’d mentioned doing it at your place, only to end up on a random rooftop or in an empty alleyway. ever the quick learner, keigo learned not to bring it up. but now, when he’s considering all the variables involved when it comes to confessing to you, he can’t help but feel that it’s necessary to see your house at least once.

sweat rolls down his spine and he unconsciously tugs at his fitted shirt, feeling the heatwaves brought on from both the liquor and the crowded atmosphere of the bar. there’s so many people walking behind the two of you, so much noise, so many bodies all in one space — he feels a little trapped.

“i’ve never been,” you say, derailing his train of thought as you drain your third drink of the night and then flag down the bartender for another. “it’s supposed to be a great vacation spot, though.”

he wipes away the sweat from his forehead with his arm and finishes his drink before nodding your way, wings fidgeting behind him. “it really is, dovey. you wanna take off after another drink or two?”

two glasses slide on the counter, the sides dripping with condensation and cold to the touch. it’s nice to feel in his hands, and he feels his nerves calming after a few long sips. “sounds good,” you answer, feeling hot yourself. the edges of everything in the room seem to blur, thanks to the halos circling the dim bar lights. “you might have to carry me out of here, though.”

“oh, i don’t mind,” keigo answers with a smirk that you can hear in his voice before looking up at him, “but only if you promise you’ll hold on tightly.”

“yes, keigo,” you drawl, scooting your barstool a few inches closer to him. he follows your shameless eyes, tracing your weighted stare to the small gold chain around his neck. it makes a tinkling sound when keigo loops a finger beneath it, hazy eyes meeting your own.

“can’t stop staring, can you?”

you automatically roll your eyes and look away, although your heart starts to race with anticipation. it should be an innocent question, but keigo’s words roll off his tongue in a way that is loaded with his unique charm and flirtatiousness. in a matter of seconds, you’re overthinking the question and the certain innuendo behind it; your breaths come in shallow pants that are just barely audible, and a finger slips beneath your chin to tip your head up.

keigo leans in, lips barely grazing the shell of your ear. “gettin’ all worked up and i haven’t even touched you? that’s a first for you, baby.”

just stop it, you think, yet you’re unable to turn away. damn, he’s got you right where he wants you, and he knows it — keigo shoots you a knowing smile when he notices your thighs unconsciously squeeze together. it’s so hot in this bar, and it only grows hotter in his presence; an uncontrollable shiver races up your spine and you shakily reach for your drink. “stop it, kei.”

your words are shaky, and his wings twitch triumphantly behind him, feathers slightly puffing up. the dewy glass slips right out of your hand and splashes all over your blouse, sticky tequila soaking all the way through to your bra and dampening your chest. keigo stifles a snicker and plucks the glass out of your lap, a little bit of liquid still sloshing around inside it.

“that—that was your fault,” you drop a loose ice cube into the remains of your drink and glare at him angrily as he dabs a handful of napkins against your chest, unabashedly looking over the shrinking fabric. now that it’s all wet, it clings to every inch of your chest and emphasizes the outline of your tits.

“oh, but i wasn’t holding the drink,” keigo clicks his tongue and sends you a wink, sweat shining on his forehead.

“someone has to foot the bill,” you grouse, sourly blaming him for your now stained blouse and sticky chest. then, it hits you—neither of you are drunk enough to leave the bar. after flagging down the bartender and requesting six shots, you look at keigo competitively. “listen up. whoever finishes the shots first wins and doesn’t have to pay.”

“really, a drinking challenge?” keigo grumbles, knowing you have a better chance of winning. normally, he wouldn’t mind paying for you, but you’ve challenged him and might risk covering the bill you’ve both racked up. his head is fuzzy, but one thought is clear: he won’t let you.

“yes, really,” you shoot back, nose crinkling at the smell of the liquor all on its own in the shot glasses. it’s not sweet and there’s no chaser, but you’re determined to fight your gag reflex as it goes down. “ready?”

“i’m ready,” keigo sighs, lifting a shot glass.

it ends faster than the alcohol was poured. you’re proud to have won, and keigo doesn’t let on the fact that he assisted you. despite the liquid fire burning your throat, you’re happy—too happy; this is the most drunk that keigo has ever seen you, and he’s in the same boat as you, looking for the oars.

he nearly forgets his card when he struggles to his feet and walks out of the bar with you, right into the not-so-dark nighttime of the city. all of the streetlights are fuzzy and the sounds of racing cars are muffled; this is a different area of the city and it takes a moment for you to register where you are in relation to keigo’s apartment.

“dovey,” he says, cheeks flushed a bright red, “do you wanna go to my place?”

strong, possessive hands find your waist and pull you close, pressing your damp chest against his. those gold eyes of his search your face carefully, as if he’s taking in your features and committing them to memory or looking for something he’s intent on finding.

your hand settles on his cheek and you pull him forward for a kiss on the busy street, not caring about who sees or writes about it. you’re in your own world, thinking of nothing but keigo and his plush, yearning mouth—he’s got the sense to pull away before it goes further, vaguely gesturing for you to turn around. when you oblige, he wraps his arms around you and under your own, holding you securely against his chest.

“i’ll treat you to a little night flight.”

vermilion wings beat the air powerfully, kicking up dust and litter along the sidewalk as keigo lifts you off the ground and into the sky. you’re shocked and speechless as you look over the city from above, thousands of buildings endlessly illuminated with light and color from the entertainment district. “it’s beautiful up here,” you breathe, feeling a little less drunk now that chill air washes over your face and cools you down. “why didn’t you invite me up here sooner?”

keigo laughs, riding on the wind and becoming one with it. “i did, you just never took me up on it. as to why, i don’t know.”

everything’s so much clearer from up here. the view is impeccable, and the air is fresh, free of the different scents of the city — exhaust fumes, restaurants, cigarettes, the occasional incense store. you’re shivering, a little too cold from the breeze blowing through your damp blouse, but being pressed against keigo’s warm chest makes it more bearable. something prods at the back of your drunken mind, a thought you’ve pushed away each time it arrives.

keigo thinks he’s slick. he thinks you don’t notice his lingering gazes, the odd way he tries to snuggle up to you every time you finish having sex, or the acute tenderness written all over his face every now and then when he’s talking to you.

but you do. you notice it, each and every time—in fact, you know exactly what all of this behavior stems from, but you choose to ignore it. clearly, keigo is in love with you. it’s evident in his actions and body language, yet he hasn’t actually said anything. it’s so damn easy to notice and understand because you feel the same, you’re just better at hiding it. something about the idea of a relationship with the no. 2 pro hero of japan is daunting — not only because you’re his agent or you’ll constantly have to face the public, but because there’s a possibility that transitioning into something more from being friends with benefits may be too dramatic of a change.

“oh, fuck,” keigo groans, getting lost in the myriad of lights and buildings below. he doesn’t know where the hell his apartment is and isn’t sure if he has the time to fly around for a half hour looking for it.

“what’s wrong?” you ask worriedly, suddenly aware of the fact that your legs are dangling in the air. in order to preserve his pride and sensitive ego, you don’t bring up anything about him dropping you, but your body tenses.

“it’s the shots,” he grouses, speaking quickly, “they’re gonna come back up.”

“where’s your apartment?”

“i don’t know,” keigo answers, and now you can hear him starting to gag as he forces the contents of his stomach back down. “i can’t keep flying around much longer . . sorry to cut this little flight short, baby.”

“it’s okay, just don’t get sick,” you reassure him slowly, trying to pinpoint your own apartment. surprisingly, the building is a minute or two away from you, if he flies fast enough. “keigo, we’ll head to my place. see that dark building right there, near the red billboard?”

he nods, and the waves of nausea evaporate instantly. after months, he’s finally going to see your apartment—he’s now leagues closer to successfully confessing his feelings to you. keigo’s heavy wings slice through the sky as he hurdles toward your apartment; while the speed is steady, the course is not. from below, people watch as something wobbles through the sky, shifting awkwardly from side to side in a way that isn’t at all graceful . . or intimidating.

you assume he really has to throw up, when it’s quite the opposite. “k-keigo, see that balcony with the potted plants? there’s only one pot of flowers.”

“is that yours?” he asks, struggling to control how giddy he is. “i see it.”

☆ ☆

with the solid, familiar ground of the balcony beneath your feet, things around you are a little steadier. still, the alcohol buzzes persistently in your head and makes you giggle over nothing. it’s warmer now that you’re out of the sky, standing close to keigo and surrounded by all of your potted plants. a pleasant tingling sensation courses through your limbs as your body wobbles, adjusting to being out of the air and the new thoughts that rush into your head.

everything’s still a little fuzzy at the edges, a reminder of your tipsiness and disorientation. keigo wraps a supportive arm around your waist when you nearly stumble to the ground, quietly giggling at your own actions and sighing contentedly in his grip. there’s a beat of silence as your body meshes into his, the kind that settles between two people who’ve just shared a long day, and it feels so natural that your mind absently drifts to two pairs of shoes beside one another and two cups of coffee in the mornings—perhaps you didn’t notice the routine you’ve slipped into, one so innate that it makes everything else feel a little less important.

“hey, did i mention how sexy you are when you’re drunk, dovey?” keigo hiccups, wings quivering as he leans on you for some support, struggling to balance just like you are. his knuckles nudge into your side gently, grin widening as if he’s waiting for a reaction from you. the playful edge to his voice falters momentarily, and you exhale through your nose, shaking your head in disbelief.

“ugh, you must’ve had much more than i thought,” you laugh, kicking the doormat up and retrieving the brass key from beneath it to unlock the door. it’s dark out here on the porch and the same inside, leading you to awkwardly jam the key into the lock.

“you always blow me off,” he sighs ruefully, smile dropping as he notices you using the key upside down. “what, do i embarrass you or something?”

“i-it’s not that,” you breathe, tensing the moment his chest presses against your back and his hand envelops yours to help you with the key. goosebumps rise on the tender flesh of your arms first, then all over your chest, beneath your damp blouse. you recover once the lock gives, sliding the heavy glass door open and catching your breath. “kei, you’ve always got something to say to me.”

“you, of all people, have the power to shut me up whenever you want,” keigo teases, following you into your quaint apartment. instead of appreciating the moment, his mind races to find an answer to the million-dollar question: why were you so intent on keeping him out of here? even in total darkness, the place is cozy, shelves adorned with knickknacks and décor that suits you. totally lost in concentration, keigo’s wings bristle and he accidentally knocks something off a shelf, but manages to catch it in his hand. you’re in the middle of saying something, but he doesn’t even notice, his eyes completely lighting up at the sight of the object.

“is this that glass bird i gave you all those months ago?”

a nervous laugh rushes past your lips and you nod, hand falling away from the light switch. “yeah, i thought it looked nice up there. it’s pretty.”

“wow, baby,” he gingerly puts the figurine back in its place, elated by the possible significance that this little glass bird holds. “if i’d known you liked it that much, i would’ve showered you in gifts.”

in the middle of unbuttoning your blouse, you trip over your own foot, and keigo, ever the hero, catches you as gently as he did the figurine. his fingers splay across your bare side and you blink up at him, faced with another small gap that’s dying to be closed. “i know what i want as a gift,” you utter, voice low and sultry. the words seem to hang in the air like more of a promise than a request.

keigo can smell the liquor on your breath and the temptation that accompanies it—without a second thought, his lips are on yours and he’s pushing forward with alcohol buzzing in his veins. he’s so full of hope, believing the best over what he’s considered a sign of something more; it feels so right to kiss you like this, with his hands spanning your bare waist and tugging gently at your waistband. it doesn’t quite occur to him that he is inebriated and therefore may not be thinking as sharply as he would if he were sober in this situation.

you shove forward, pushing him hard into a wall and nipping at his lips hungrily. despite being a little bothered by him being in your apartment, you can’t say you’re not interested in fucking on your own bed for once. a shaky gasp leaves you when you pull away for breath, stomach fluttering delightedly at the hardness of his cock pressing into your thigh.

his breath hitches in his throat, hazy mind racing a thousand miles an hour. the question leaves his lips with more urgency than intended. “i—shit, you really want me to take you right here?”

“in the hallway?” you laugh, astonished. “i’d much prefer my bed, it’s easier for you to fuck me as hard as you want.”

desire and lust conducts your actions, has you dropping your blouse to the floor and unclasping your bra next. each article of clothing falls to the floor in a heap, forming a trail leading to the bedroom door. keigo follows your lead, wings jittering with anticipation as he crosses the threshold. billowy curtains blow up and around the window, lifted by the night breeze, and your room is dark, the details barely visible: keigo notices the many pillows on your bed (so that’s why you were on his ass about buying more than just one) and the full length mirror off to the side.

keigo stops to glance at his reflection in the mirror, fraught with the sculpted curves of muscle—each line a testament to years of hard work and dedication. dark hickeys litter his tanned skin, all left behind from the heat of many moments. momentarily, his eyes shift from the glass to you, perched on the bed and waiting for him. his fingers subconsciously graze over one of the marks, just as he recalls one of your rules, a line that had been drawn in the sand early on—no marks, nowhere near your neck or anywhere at all, even if people couldn’t see them.

it’s a curious little thing, isn’t it? you clearly have no qualms about marking up his body, but you never let him give you some in return—he hasn’t voiced it, not yet. he exhales softly, feeling the ache between his legs flare once you call his name expectantly. it’s like a switch flips, causing his mind to sharpen and his pulse to quicken when he steps toward you.

bathed in opalescent moonlight, you sit back against your makeshift throne of pillows, eyes raking over him shamelessly, as if you’re looking for something else to sink your teeth into. vermilion feathers puff up and shake themselves out as the bed dips beneath his weight. “come here,” he beckons you lowly, with every intention of making you his. “you’re mine, aren’t you?”

now mussed with abundant wrinkles, the bedspread shifts beneath your bodies as keigo slots himself on top of you and hastily kisses down your neck, lightly nipping at the tender skin, just enough to elicit soft moans from you. doubt melts into desire, lacing his ministrations with something more urgent. for six months, keigo has never seen or left a single mark on you, and tonight, that’s about to change—you’ve already broken the biggest rule you had by bringing him to your apartment, so how much further could this go?

“yeah, ‘m all yours,” you whine, back arching off the bed when he bites at the soft skin of your tits, tongue lapping away the sticky tequila you spilled earlier. it’s so different—he can’t believe he went this long without making any objections.

things are heating up fast, and that haziness from the liquor creeps up on both of you, blurring your thoughts just enough. his hips chase yours into the bed, and he eagerly grinds his hardened cock against your thighs, all over them. your voice cracks slightly when you try to moan his name, impatient as always. but keigo decides to take his time with you, kissing and biting longer than usual—he’s in no rush, not yet.

it’s intoxicating in every way possible, causing your body to swelter and thrash beneath his own. keigo’s moving fast, delighting in your pleasure and drinking in every reaction unapologetically. fuck, to think you’d denied him and yourself for so long—he should make it up to you somehow, shouldn’t he?

“dovey,” he pants, fingers slipping under the fabric of the panties appreciatively, “you wore my favorites?”

crimson fabric adorns your waistline, threaded with soft lace. for lingerie, it’s pretty comfortable: it doesn’t floss your asshole like a thong or g-string does, something you’d told keigo when you tried it on in the dressing room. he knew he’d be buying it the moment you stepped out with a bright smile on your face. seeing it on you now is surreal, and he nearly creams his boxers at the sight of it, wings conveying his thoughts for him through a tremble.

your hips rise up and off the bed so he can pull away the last bit of fabric that covers your body. “yeah, but it doesn’t matter now,” you titter cheekily, shockwaves of arousal shooting straight between your thighs.

unceremoniously, your legs are thrown open and keigo’s wings flutter in amusement, always the first thing to react to whatever you have to say. “it matters to them,” keigo comments, jerking a thumb back to point at his pesky wings, “fair warning, this place might be a mess by the end of this.”

“so long as you help me deal with it tomorrow, i don’t mind,” your fingers swipe his cooling spit off your chest, and you’re a little startled as you press at a fresh hickey. it’s sticky, skin now sensitive and tingling in a way that’s just right.

fierce as always, keigo doesn’t waste any time diving between your legs, eager to fuck but even more so to eat your pussy. glistening strings of slick stick to the tender skin of your inner thighs, connecting them to each other thinly until he licks it away. “mmm, dovey,” he moans adoringly, and your pulse quickens, “taste so goddamn sweet.”

keigo’s a proud pussy eater, the filthiest and best you’ve ever met. he could be gasping for air with his face covered in your cum and yet, he’d still have something utterly nasty to say. unapologetically nose deep, he slurps loudly at your soaking cunt and pins your antsy legs down over his shoulders.

“ngh, keigo,” you thrash forward, thighs squeezing his head like a vice while your hips uncontrollably buck into his face. “please don’t stop, don’t fucking stop—”

“keep squirming around like that and i will,” he grunts, one hand pressing you down into the bed while the other pushes between your thighs. those tenacious gold eyes of his are hooded now, gleaming rapturously as he devours everything you have to give him like he’s been starving. loud, sloppy slurps soon fill the room, falling into cadence with your whiny moans; scarlet feathers ruffle in response to his most favorite sounds, and his hips rut carelessly into the mattress, desperately seeking friction.

your head falls back into the downy pillows, jaw dropping slackly as you unsteadily sneak a hand down to your clit, fingers seeking to rub a lustful itch away. keigo’s fingers wrap around your wrist and snatch it away from your pussy, instead guiding your hand to his head in a show of acquiescence.

“don’t go doing that,” he groans, pulling up for air and pressing a thumb to your swollen clit hard enough to make your eyes roll back into your skull, “use your words instead, dovey.”

you weakly nod his way, and a sudden, swift slap is delivered right to your clit, the force behind it causing you to see stars. a twisted yelp tears from your throat, and you’re doe eyed when you tearfully glance down at him, chest rising and falling rapidly.

“gotta work on using your words, baby,” keigo coos, thumbing away a stray tear from your cheek. “jus’ trying to make you understand that i need you to tell me what you want.”

there’s a dark edge to his voice that makes the apologetic tone he’s taken on seem ingenuine, almost a little mocking. and yet, you let out a sweet moan, leaning into his touch with a hushed, “yeah, kei. i understand.”

still reeling from the tingling impact of the pussy slap, you guide his head back down between your legs and unsteadily grind into his mouth. he greedily drinks you in, smacking his lips like he can’t get enough of your honeyed taste, and unconsciously pulling you closer. his fingers rub tight circles into your throbbing clit, occasionally pinching the bud to elicit a scream or two before letting go.

keigo had always been taught not to play with his food—but when she’s quaking against his face and sobbing out his name over and over, he just can’t help himself. he’s had a perpetual mean streak that he’s only ever unleashed during sex with you, taking an overwhelming satisfaction in fucking you dumb and then teasing you about it. he notices the way your thighs tense at either side of his head, the way your head falls back whenever he tenses his tongue.

your clammy fingers claw through blonde curls, saccharine moans spilling from your lips with each ravenous push of his tongue through your folds. it’s a push and pull rhythm that is nothing less than addictive, dragging out the air from your lungs and leaving you utterly breathless.

“g-god, keigo,” you keen loudly, shoving him down without any regard for his ability to breathe, “need you to—i need you to fuck me with your tongue.”

he groans in response, shamelessly humping the bed now that the ache between his legs has become too prominent to ignore. it flares dangerously every time you say his name or look at him with that blissed out expression written all over your face . . fuck, now you’re telling him exactly what you want and pushing him around, something he’s always enjoyed. his tongue slips into your awaiting cunt and pushes deep, tasting even more of you once he finds that puffy, spongy spot inside of you that makes you clench up every damn time.

your breaths come in rushed, frantic gasps that soften each word. “fuuuck, right there—yeah, t-that’s it,” your voice shakes involuntarily, tight with inevitable euphoria. “kei, you’re gonna make me cum, hah—‘m real close, don’t stop, don’t stop.”

you chant those last words religiously, and keigo’s offended that you’re thinking he’d ever want to. “on my fuckin’ tongue,” he half groans, half begs, not sure if you even hear him at all.

keigo doesn’t dare to stop until you finally come undone on his tongue, shuddering uncontrollably as he licks you through your high, nearly passing out from a severe lack of oxygen. you’ve got him in a beautiful leglock that he regrets breaking out of, but seeing the dazed, drunken look on your face when he comes up erases the thought from his mind. the entire half of his lower face is covered in your cum, and heat floods your face when his pink tongue darts out to clean up his lips, all while holding your lidded gaze.

a few sanguine feathers float around your face, falling from the air like snowflakes and lightly settling on the bed like rose petals. it seems to make the moment warmer, more romantic as if this is your first time with him—in hindsight, it would’ve been nicer to christen the relationship with a bed of rose petals and scented candles scattered around the room. instead, it was something that happened fast and right after conversations about ex partners.

you pout at him as he positions himself on top of you once again, pressing a wet kiss to your mouth. instinctively, you lick away the mixture of spit and slick he leaves on your lips, tasting yourself on your tongue momentarily. it’s bittersweet and a little syrupy . . maybe he really isn’t lying about you tasting like candy. your thoughts fade away when you catch a glimpse of his vibrant wings — you’ve always seen them, but not like this. this time, you’re up close to them, so close you can see the downy barbs and delicate vanes of each individual feather.

“are your wings . . sensitive?” you ask curiously, voice carrying the barest note of reverence as your hand tentatively inches over his shoulder. after each and every covert tryst of yours, you’ve seen keigo smooth out the feathers or greet you in the morning with stimulating news of his freshly scrubbed wings. but this—touching them—feels like crossing an unspoken threshold.

keigo doesn’t answer, his breath catching in his throat. he’d been in the middle of dazedly tugging his boxers down his body when you’d just dropped a miniature bomb on him. this is the first time that he’s been this astonished, features mellowing profoundly. soon, he finds his voice and uses it, words intertwined with an unexpected tenderness: “ . . it’s alright. they’re just a little sensitive, heh. nobody’s ever touched them before.”

as if they understand you’re talking about them, his wings shift toward your fingers, obviously inviting you to touch them. this is certainly new — for the first time, his defiant wings are actually yearning to be touched, even though they get a little choosy when it’s him who’s brushing his hands through the feathers. gingerly, you reach forward and your hand disappears into the mussed feathers, fingertips brushing lightly against the sensitive skin beneath. the apex of his wings is abundant with small, downy feathers that quiver at your touch.

his eyelids flutter shut and he emits a shy moan, swallowing a sudden heart-shaped lump in his throat. courage swells in your chest and you push further, awed by the all-encompassing softness that meets your fingers. you’d expected them to be coarse, rough from years of flying and smelling earthy or musky. the faint scent of mango wafts through the air, stirring up a sense of familiarity and comfort in your chest, reminding you of all the times he’d protectively wrap his wings around your body as if to steady you.

“they feel so nice,” you murmur, feeling his cock throb against your thigh. it draws you back into the moment, where you’re naked beneath him with anticipatory legs sprawled open. “so . . soft.”

keigo’s buzzing when you experimentally stroke your fingers through the thin feathers, an intimate form of worship that is only understood between the two of you. “you, ah, didn’t expect them to be?”

a wind created by his flapping wings kick up your curtains and make the metal rings clatter on the bar they’re hanging on. “i thought they’d be a little rougher,” you purr, voice smooth and sultry as your legs lift, locking tightly around his waist. his v-line is visibly sharp and hard to the touch like cut marble against the pillowy skin of your thighs, muscles flexing as he guides his cock to your soaked pussy.

“i’ll show you rough, dovey,” keigo huffs, smearing his cock with your slick and pulling your legs away from his sides. he’s going to fuck you up, and he can’t do it properly in this position—your feet are thrown haphazardly over his shoulders, thighs folded tightly against your chest. he’s painfully hard, leaking sticky precum all over and trembling by the time he pushes the tip of his cock between your folds. your response is immediate; an eager moan slips out of your mouth, hips bucking impatiently onto his cock.

“damn, baby,” his chest heaves tirelessly, skin flushed pink and covered in a thin sheen of sweat, “you’re ready f’me, aren’t you?”

you look up at him with dewy eyes, electricity shooting through your every nerve. “i-if i was made for—ah—anything, it was taking your cock.”

god, you can’t just say shit like that and cluelessly think he won’t actually fall in love with you—he was only asking for a simple ‘yes’, but now he’s got hearts in his eyes as he finally pushes inside you, swallowing down the sudden urge to blow his load this fast. pulsating, gummy walls wrap around him and seem to suck him deeper without him even moving; he weakly presses his head into your shoulder, gasping frantically as he tries to adjust to the grip you’ve got on him.

“f-fuckkk,” he stutters out, regaining his cool composure after a moment despite the room feeling like a sauna, “i’m gonna hold you to that, you better not forget it.”

he’s relentless, going from zero to sixty in a second with no thoughts of slowing down — he’s jackhammering his hips, curved cock ramming right into your sweet spot and french kissing your cervix. you’re dripping wet, slick pouring down your ass and making each thrust slip ‘n slide all the more smoothly; the bed creaks ceaselessly beneath the weight of your bodies, groaning so loudly it occurs to you that it might just break. but that isn’t even a problem, not with keigo, who’d drop a ton of money on something you could just express the slightest bit of interest in.

“h-holy fuck, keigo,” you gasp out, back arching off the bed, “i could—oh my god, i could cum just from this.”

“yeah, dovey?” he grins, voice tight as he quite literally plunges deeper into heaven. “jus’ from my cock?”

sweat beads on your forehead, making your body swelter with endless steam that seems to vaporize any inhibitions you still had after all the drinks. “nghh, w-wait, ‘m gonna cum—”

“wait?” keigo practically barks out a laugh, shaking his head ruefully at you, “there’s no waiting. i want you to cum right on my cock ‘n i’ll fuck you through it, dovey.”

you nod with mascara infused tears streaming down your face, legs quaking uncontrollably. everything seems to happen at once — a twinge of pain takes root in the backs of your thighs just as the built-up tension inside you snaps into thousands of sparks, finally igniting your long awaited orgasm.

keigo forces himself to keep his eyes open despite the fact that he’s risking an early orgasm, balls clenching at the sight of you: your lips form an o shape as euphoria washes over you, making your body quiver frenetically. he swallows dryly, closely rocking his hips against yours so you don’t push him out.

“kei,” is the first thing you sob out when you recover, struggling to catch your breath with every thrust fucking the air out of your lungs. you’re sensitive all over, skin prickling with heat that doesn’t cool even with his wings creating a draft.

he’s straining tight at the seams, heart pounding in his ears as he thinks of nothing but you.

you, you, you.

with your sweet, glossy-lipped smile in the mornings and the voice of a vixen when you innocently call his name. you’re nothing less than beautiful beneath him, clawing at his shoulders and staring up at him with those glazed over, blissed out eyes while your body molds against his. it’s a shape he knows well, one he’s pictured in his head when he’s all alone, one he’s been dreaming about whenever his eyes close.

his breath catches in his throat. “haah, fuck—dovey, i can’t hold it anymore.”

“right fuckin’ there,” your voice cracks into a squeal, “mhm, jus’ cum inside me.”

“you mean it?” keigo asks dumbly, nearly melting at the wild look you throw him in response.

“yeah, kei—shit, ‘m gonna cum again,” the words rush past your lips, urgent as ever and spurring him on to keep going, “i want you to—i need you to fill me up.”

something sweet flashes behind his gold eyes and he tucks his face into your shoulder, breath coming in frantic pants while he gasps your name. you’re practically in your own world, moaning loudly and dragging his slim hips closer to your own. when his cock starts to twitch deep inside you, the heel of your palm digs into his lower back, forcing his tip right against your cervix. he’s burning hot, utterly lost in you with no way of finding his way out — cum spurts from his cock and the spasms wrack his body, each stripping away a layer of him until he’s left with only his heart in his hands.

“i fucking love you,” it rushes out and he doesn’t regret it for a second, “god, baby. i love you so much.”

your eyes roll back as your body surrenders to the toe-curling sensation of your third orgasm of the night, euphoria hitting you from all directions and rendering you clinically cock drunk. you muster just enough strength to wipe the salty tears away from your eyes, teeth chattering just the slightest bit as you drag in a gasping breath.

after a moment, you yawn, stretching out your folded body and nudging at his chest to get him to lay down beside you. “ooh, that was great, kei. there’s no fucking way i’m walking tomorrow.”

coming down is the hardest part.

keigo’s shaken to his core by your flippant response to his confession, but most of all, he’s deeply embarrassed to have said something—no, to have thought something this stupid. finally, he’s getting a taste of karma from all of his failed relationships; he wishes that he could allow himself enough pity to ask the abyss of the universe what he did to deserve this. the heat that had once been sexy dissipates immediately, leaving him as cold as a corpse. he rolls over to the side, letting go of you and staring up at the ceiling, laying on top of wings that don’t even have enough life to twitch. pathetic tears prick at the corners of his marked eyes, and for the first time, he’s happy that the lights are off.

“keigo? did you hear me?”

“sorry, i didn’t. what was it you were saying?” he drags a forearm across his sweaty forehead, overlooking the tender inflection in your voice.

“i just . . i don’t know. that was really good,” he may not hear it, but you do. quickly, you clear your throat and tug up the blankets, inviting him to crawl underneath with you. “goodnight, kei.”

he should bite his tongue, but he doesn’t; this is the last time. “goodnight, dovey.”

☆ ☆

after tossing and turning the whole night, keigo finally decides to end the torture at 5:20 am the next morning. it’s still dark out, and he figures that he can easily slip away under the cover of night. he’s got a mild hangover, but it won’t impair him, not when he’s determined to keep it together until he gets back home.

soberly, he absorbs his surroundings and recalls the memories that have been plaguing him for hours. his body tenses, thick cords of muscle pulling taut as if he’s bracing against the impact of a punch, and like it has countless times before, the scene replays in his head again. his emotional, devoted admission of love was something you’d completely ignored—again and again, you’ve only ever shown an interest in his body.

in his chest, he feels his heart clench horribly as he looks over your sleeping form. you’re curled up in yourself under the warm blankets, turned toward him with a serene look on your face that makes it all the more difficult to slip out from under the sheets and into the cold. like a cat, he silently pads into the hallway and collects his clothes as if he was never there. he’s inches away from the back door he’d been so excited to step through last night when he stops in his tracks, head hanging lowly as pangs of guilt hit him like fists. it’s not right to just leave you like this, not without making an effort to say some kind of goodbye.

keigo hesitates in the hallway, feet seemingly glued to the floor. all he can hear are loud alarm bells—every instinct is begging him to leave, to spare himself the imminent heartbreak of going back in that room to see you. against his better judgment, he eventually tiptoes into your room with every intention of giving you one final kiss. at your bedside, he bends forward and presses his lips to your forehead; the kiss is entirely chaste, the brief touch carrying a blend of quiet grief and the tenderness of a love that was bound to fall through.

like most things in his life, this kiss doesn’t go as planned. there’s a momentary flash of blue and white—he’s managed to give you a strong, accidental static shock with an innocent kiss at 5:22 in the morning. you blearily wake up, squinting up at him in confusion and making out the high collar of his hero jacket.

“good morning, keigo,” you stretch under the blankets and reach for his hand, “what—what time is it?”

“it’s early,” he answers unsurely, sitting down on the foot of the bed. his wings droop, vermilion plumes seemingly inanimate. “y’know what, don’t worry about it. go back to sleep, baby.”

“but where’re you going?” you sit up abruptly, eyes narrowing at his fully clothed body. a glance over the edge of the bed reveals that he’s even got his boots on!

“i’ve got patrol, silly,” keigo picks the easiest excuse out of an array of choices, and you sniff it out immediately. “i’m a hero, remember?” silence hangs in the air for a moment before you slowly speak up, sounding more confused than anything else. “but saturdays and sundays are your off days.”

keigo pauses, tongue sliding over his teeth as he contemplates what to say now that he’s been caught in his lie. like an idiot, he’s managed to trap himself. you scoff, cognitive functions coming to back to life as the final vestiges of sleep fade away into the ruined morning. did he actually expect you to wake up naked and hungover, all by yourself?

“okay, you caught me. i’ve got some stuff to deal with.”

“this early? c’mon, why’re you in such a rush?”

ultimately, it’s best for the both of you if he pulls away.

keigo’s usual smile drops and he sighs, “i’ve got shit to do, okay?”

it’s this early in the morning, and your blood pressure is already spiking in a way that is most undesirable. “are you fucking kidding me, keigo?”

the way you say his name so angrily, so accusingly—it fucking irks him, causing the corners of his lips to pull downwards into a scowl. he’s not really angry at you, he’s angry at himself for causing this dilemma to begin with, but you don’t know that. how could you really know anything about him aside from the way he likes to fuck?

“why are you getting so damn pissy? i’m going to leave whether you want me to or not, okay?”

stark naked, you exit the safety of the bed and make a beeline to your dresser, where you yank open drawers in search of clothes. keigo stands, watching longingly as you pull on some panties and a bra.

“i’m getting pissy because you wanted to take off so i could wake up naked and alone! you didn’t even say goodbye.”

“i was trying to,” keigo argues back, jumping to his feet, “but you were the one who ruined that for yourself, didn’t you?”

“a kiss isn’t enough!” you snap, now covered in a loose t shirt and pajama shorts. “couldn’t you have just waited a few hours? maybe then you could’ve told me why you were leaving.”

“what the hell? so you’re saying i need a reason to go back to my own house?”

“i don’t see why you think you can lie to me!” your voice raises furiously, words sharp as daggers, “i’m not just your agent, keigo. i know you, i care about you! don’t you get that?”

it’s quickly evolved into a dangerous game of catch, the pressure to be the one to drop the ball growing heavier atop his shoulders with each passing moment. painfully, a vein in his forehead pulses from the headache brought on by the hangover and the memories that follow it. it’s been hours and he can’t seem to shake away the pain that gnaws away at him. he’s so stupid.

“yeah, i know you are,” keigo grits out bitterly, “all i wanted to do was leave.”

“so abruptly?” you press him for answers, flicking on a small lamp so you can see him clearly. deep wrinkles span the entirety of each article of clothing that hangs on his body, but it’s the dark circles under his bloodshot eyes that makes him look unusually sloppy, getting you to pause as you take the sight of him in. concerned for his wellbeing, you soften, body relaxing. “what—keigo, what’s wrong?”

“it’s just the hangover,” he squints defensively, backing away and into a corner, “anyway, you got your goodbye, didn’t you?”

your gentle, worried face falls away. it hurts more than any injury he’s ever gotten, but he has to keep the walls up to protect himself from the pain even though guilt slips in through the cracks like mustard gas. with a pinched sigh, keigo backs away from the wall, wings limply hanging behind him as he prepares to exit your bedroom with no intention of ever coming back.

he’s blindsiding you, lying to you out of nowhere and slipping through your fingers like steam, too elusive for his own good. without a second thought, you close the distance and grab firmly at his wrist, a gesture that would’ve worked once. “i can’t do this anymore,” he mutters without looking over his shoulder, snatching away from you as if he’s been burned. “i just . . i can’t.”

“what’re you—what do you mean, keigo?” he looks out into the distance of the hallway, focusing on a specific floor tile and tracing its grooves so he doesn’t have to see your face. just from your voice, he knows you must be absolutely crushed. for courage, he allows himself a steady inhale before stepping past the threshold and leaving you in the lurch.

“this,” keigo turns, gesturing wildly and spitting out the words as if everything that’s happened in this room is horribly filthy, “it’s bullshit, all of it. i’m done, got that?”

there’s a beat of silence, and keigo stays a second too long.

“keigo, you’re breaking my heart here.”

you’re probably referring to the sex, aren’t you? surely you’re disappointed by the fact that you’ll no longer be fucking the no. 2 hero, petting his wings and calling him by a name few are able to.

“oh, come on,” he looks over you sourly, shaking his head as his eyes span the entirety of your body, “you’re pretty. you’ll find yourself a new fuck buddy, it’s not that big of a deal.”

immediately, he regrets saying it, feeling a rush of nausea in his stomach—he doesn’t want you with anyone else.

you blink back tears, his stare suddenly invasive and hurtful. “i don’t want a new fuck buddy, i want you.”

“tough shit,” keigo grunts, wings drooping further down. the longest feathers now drag along the floor, picking up whatever there is to offer. “i’m done being friends with benefits.”

“i just—all this fucking time, i’ve been wasting my time wanting to be with you,” the words tumble out of you bitterly, filling up the space between you with everything you’ve ever wanted to say, and his ears prick, grasping at a possible implication beneath all of it, “god, to think i was afraid we wouldn’t be able to become something more—all of this was a mistake.”

keigo pauses, heart pounding in his ears and possibly affecting his ability to hear. “you’re . . in love with me?”

“i was,” the correction is swift and choked, reverberating straight to his core and making his body stiffen. it hurts more than anything to hear, carrying a horrible weight, the kind that makes him realize you’ve given up on him.

“then why didn’t you—that doesn’t make any sense,” he gasps, the newfound information hitting him like a freight train, “if you were in love with me, why didn’t you—how couldn’t you have said something?”

“what’re you talking about?” you hiss, harshly rubbing away the tears in your eyes with the back of your hand. keigo’s bewildered now, face devoid of anything but shock and some kind of adoration as he seems to process something inside his head.

he stares at you desperately, struggling for the right words, “fuck, dovey, why didn’t you say anything last night?”

“don’t call me that,” you snap, the petname far too fond for a moment like this one, “why would i possibly have said something last night?”

keigo falters, and his voice cracks as the words rush out like a torrent. “i told you that i—god, i fucking told you i loved you. didn’t you hear me?”

oh.

his heart squeezes painfully in his chest when the realization washes over your face, making him realize the gravity of this misunderstanding—you didn’t hear him.

wearily, you take a seat on the edge of the bed. he sees the way your spine curves forward, and bites down hard on his lower lip once the first sob slips out of you. in an instant, keigo’s beside you and pulling you into his arms, shaking all over. he doesn’t know what to say, but his voice breaks with endless regret when he finally comes up with something. “i’m sorry, god, i’m so sorry,” tears race down his cheeks and into your hair as he murmurs despairingly, “i thought you didn’t care, i didn’t know—”

there’s nothing more to say.

keigo tries anyway, brokenly whispering apologies that fade into the air like smoke. his arms are tight around your body, holding you closely — it’s an unspoken promise to never let you go again. for the very first time, he truly melts into you without the walls in the way or the burden of hidden feelings. when you slowly relax against him and your sobs become quieter, something shifts in the air. vermilion wings, once held down by the weight of everything they’ve been carrying, finally come back to life. wings that have had no other purpose but to protect keigo now extend outwards to protect you too, soft feathers cradling you tenderly in the quiet of the morning. just over the horizon, the sun begins to rise, bathing the city in the light of dawn and new beginnings.

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pellucid-constellations · 6 months ago

Text

Fable - During

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel was too late, and something was brewing. The fate of your wings rested in the balance and there was nothing left of him to reconcile with.

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: Angst, injury, violence

a/n: This is part of a mini-series but each part can be read on its own/out of order. The next part is going to be long guys <3 Thank you for reading all of this angst!!!

Series Masterlist (all parts ♡)

The ground beneath Azriel’s feet must have disappeared.

He was unstable, falling, plummeting into an unknown abyss.

When he looked down, Azriel saw the plush carpet at his feet, but as he replayed Rhysand’s words—four words, echoing—the blur behind his eyes made the physical obsolete. We can’t find her, Rhysand had said, followed by a multitude of questions from Cassian that Azriel could not hear. Everything was buzzing and the carpet was gone.

Where was Lucien? Azriel remembered that Lucien was to go with you. Where was he?

He had to be dead because if he were alive and you were missing, Azriel would kill him himself.

“Lucien,” Azriel spoke, his voice rough, interrupting the conversation he had not been part of.

“What?” Rhysand asked.

But Cassian ignored his High Lord’s confusion. “She was never bringing Lucien,” he growled, throwing his brother a sneer. “She only said that to make sure you went on your date. I told her I should’ve come. I told her—”

Azriel had lost his breath. He was grappling for it, trying to make sense of Cassian’s words as his lungs began to burn, but you wouldn’t do that, would you? Why would you lie to him? Over something like this?

“Cassian, enough,” Azriel gasped, the buzzing of his brother’s voice a constant barrier in the losing battle within his head. “Who’s looking for her? Where should we go?”

Azriel was dressed in a ridiculous button-up shirt with slacks that now felt too tight on his legs. His sleeves were rolled up to his forearms and his shadows took advantage of the open space, trailing up to protect him from nothing. Because nothing was here—he wasn’t in danger.

You were.

Azriel had only gotten through drinks with Elain before the call from his High Lord sent him into the sky. He couldn’t remember if he apologized. Azriel’s shoes were pinching his feet.

“I had just lost connection with her when I called you. I sent her to the northeast camp. There’s a possibility that—”

Azriel was traveling through the shadows, darkness consuming him before Rhysand could finish his sentence. He should have grabbed Cassian for backup, but that was a thought Azriel would only have much, much later.

His mind was on you—only on you.

That wasn’t unnatural for Azriel; you were one of the most important people in his life and you had been in trouble before. Life-threatening, war-induced trouble, but somehow, this felt different.

You had been distant lately.

Azriel had noticed, but Azriel had also been so zeroed in on getting Elain’s attention that he figured he would have time to check on you in a few weeks.

When he landed in the camp, the foreboding quiet made him consider that he might never get to check on you again. Illyrian camps were never quiet. There was always shouting or fighting or nagging mothers getting after their young. But the insects in the bushes could be heard in this camp, and Azriel paused amid his racing heart to make sense of the noise.

And then he heard the scream.

Your scream.

And he was running.

His shoes groaned as they pounded into soft dirt and you screamed again. Azriel had never heard that sound come from you. The way it erupted into the air—it was as if it was ripped from your throat, evoked from nothing but agony.

He pushed himself harder, faster, until the screams became closer and a small hut materialized on the horizon. The image of the quaint house brought Azriel relief, but that relief was short-lived because your screams had become tired in his journey. With each step, your voice broke more and more and Azriel didn’t even feel angry.

The rage he expected to feel was consumed by the terror that gripped him.

He ripped open the door and that terror only increased tenfold.

Azriel was usually focused during battle, his mind razor-sharp. He was known for calculating every step, for remembering each life he took, and being able to recount each slice of his blade when asked for a report days later. Azriel was a warrior and a spy.

But Azriel could not remember his actions.

From the moment he opened the door and found you on the ground, surrounded by enemies and so broken, he lost the ability to calculate anything other than death.

He figured a few must have gotten away because he vaguely registered that the door made a sound. But over the screams, that sound was inconsequential, and with the image of you before him, lying in your blood, chest only minutely rising and falling, everything else was inconsequential.

He only remembered that the rage finally found him.

Only when bodies littered the floor did the anger make way for the visceral fear that came with reaching for you—grabbing you as you let out small, weak sounds and took labored breaths.

“Y/n?” Azriel stressed, eyes roving over your figure with haste that his hands couldn't match. He had to be careful; so much of you was broken. “Y/n,” he spoke again, as if the echo of your name would somehow fix you, snap you out of the hurt.

Azriel’s breath quivered. His scarred hands hovered over your skin now, afraid to touch you more than to bring you into his arms. His fingers shook. Your wings—it was your wings.

“You’re okay,” Azriel affirmed, whispering only to himself. “You’re okay. You’re okay.”

Salt tainted the surface of his tongue, and Azriel then recognized that he was crying. Fat, heavy tears blurred his vision and fell into his mouth as he repeated his mantra into the stagnant air.

Your wings looked beyond repair. When Hybern destroyed Cassian’s, the roots remained. The delicate flesh was burned and torn, but regrowth was still feasible.

Only small pieces of the membrane along your back remained.

Azriel’s soul wept.

You groaned, and Azriel stopped his inspection of your back, his hands brushing your hair off from where it stuck to your skin.

“Y/n?” he tried again. “Can you hear me? I’m—I’m going to bring you home, okay? You’re going to be fine, I promise.”

He shouldn’t have promised that. His voice broke as he spoke the words and Azriel knew he shouldn’t have promised that because you only let out a broken rendition of ‘my wings?’ that Azriel had no response to. He only squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his forehead to your temple before shadows consumed him once more. They had been rampaging around the pair, whispering worried, angry words in Azriel’s ear, but they remained faithful.

They brought you home.

Mor screamed first.

He assumed everyone would be out looking for you, but Azriel hadn’t broken the connection to Rhysand’s mind, and they had been expecting him. His family stood before him as your blood stained the rug of his High Lord’s favorite sitting room. Rhysand was missing, gone to retrieve Madja, but Azriel was only looking for those he knew could help you.

His throat caught on air as he frantically searched for Feyre in the room. When he saw her wide eyes, he let out a desperate, “Help her,” that sounded nothing like him. His High Lady’s shoulders rose and fell with hurried panic as she came forward and then hesitated.

Azriel heard someone vomit in the corner of the room—Cassian, he thought—and Mor came to kneel beside him.

“Feyre,” he sobbed. “Please. Please, try.”

Mor was crying. Cassian had wiped his mouth and come to stand beside Feyre, but everyone was too afraid to touch you. You rested in Azriel’s arms, but even his palms remained face up and did not connect with your skin. He would break you more, he was sure of it. Your wings bent at odd angles and hung from your body by only tethered threads and no one knew what to do.

Azriel thought that dying would be better than this.

His button-up was stained red.

“Fuck.” Rhysand’s voice rattled the air in the House. At some point, Feyre had broken her hesitancy and kneeled before you, a gentle glow emitting from her hands as she tried to stitch together the broken remains of your skin. When her mate appeared with the elder healer, she turned wild eyes towards him. Rhysand stood frozen, mimicking each person in the room, but he was the High Lord—a composed leader—so his reverie lasted only seconds before he was sent into action.

“The table,” Rhysand demanded. “Lay her on the table.”

No one moved.

Azriel couldn’t stop looking at you.

Madja then spoke, no, demanded, “Now.”

The table was cleared, everything swiped to the floor with abandon. As gently as he could, Azriel rose from the floor on shaking legs and heaved you up with him, offering soft apologies as you cried out. He wished you would pass out from the pain, be free of it all, but the agonizing reality that you might not wake up struck him harder.

“I’m so sorry, y/n,” he whispered against your hair. His body ached. Azriel leaned you against the table as the other members of his family turned you on your stomach. He kneeled to meet your lidded gaze, your face pressed against the wood. “Madja’s going to fix it, okay?”

The healer was giving orders—Cassian to get water, Mor to support your head, Feyre for support. It was all a buzz in Azriel’s ears. He licked his lips and tried to meet your eyes, but they were trailing off, unfocused.

“Y/n?” he tried. “Angel?” A name he had dropped once Elain came into the picture. Your lashes fluttered. His attention peaked. “It’s okay, angel. I’m so, so sorry. I’m sorry—”

Azriel was torn from his position on the ground, a heavy hand shoving him up and against the wall. His shadows remained caressing your skin, but a fist met Azriel's face and he lost sight of you.

“This is your fault.”

“Cassian!” Mor called, desperately pleading with no one.

“It is,” Cassian seethed, his arm pressed to the Shadowsinger’s throat. “If he hadn’t been searching for something with a woman not even meant to be his, he would have been there. She would have said anything to ensure your happiness. Anything, Azriel.”

Azriel blinked and Cassian’s face was inches from his own. “I didn’t—”

“You have been blinded, brother. You’ve been blind for years and now this is the price.”

“I don’t—what are you saying?” Azriel pleaded, trying and failing to look over Cassian’s broad wings to catch a glimpse of you.

“Cassian, this is not the time,” Mor scolded, but the anguish burned so deeply in Cassian’s eyes that Azriel could tell he wasn’t hearing her.

“She gave you everything,” his brother continued. “She—”

Your scream punctuated the building tension in the room. Cassian whipped around and Azriel used the opportunity to shove him away, the Shadowsinger racing to your side once again. But, once again, he was pushed away. Rhysand held his shoulder back this time, shaking his head with a furrowed brow.

The screams echoed in the room and they hurt.

They hurt everyone.

Feyre and Mor stood beside Madja, the three of them set to the fruitless task of saving your wings. A small part of Azriel spoke the truth that they were also just trying to save you. You had lost so much blood and he still knew nothing of your other injuries.

“Rhys,” Azriel begged, beseeching him with his gaze.

But Rhysand only shook his head once more. “They need the space.”

“She needs me.”

Cassian scoffed and ground his jaw, but a glance in the general’s direction found only tears and the quivering of his lips as he pressed them together.

“You need to let them work.”

“This is my fault,” Azriel spoke, his tone dead, lost within the echo of your screams. “I was seeing Elain,” he admitted. He met Rhysand’s eyes. “You told me not to. She lied so I could go.”

Rhysand didn’t even look disappointed. He didn’t look surprised. He only ticked his jaw to the side and breathed deeply through his nose as your screams filled the room once more.

Azriel flinched. The soles of his shoes were caked with blood and cracked along the stitches.

Rhysand would have the right to be angry. He had the right to send Azriel away and force him to sit in uncertainty and the consequences of the night, but Rhysand found something familiar in the Shadowsinger’s eyes—something different. Something that Rhysand could find in himself if he were to search his mind from the night he thought Feyre to be dead.

Impossible, the High Lord assumed, but you were still screaming and there was no time to inspect the intricacies of Azriel’s reaction.

So Rhysand only held back the maelstrom of his own emotions, his sister broken on the table just feet from him, and kept his response to that of a leader.

“Let them work, Azriel.”

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x female!reader #azriel x y/n #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar #acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel angst

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serosblunt · 10 months ago

Text

Kiribaku x Reader: Miss You

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Kiribaku x (Gender-neutral) reader

Warnings: Snippets of spicier content, pre-NSFW, 18+

Description: Bakugo's out of town on a mission, Ejiriou decides to text him late at night.

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12:46am

The numbers stared at Eijiro, taunting him with every blink. It felt like there was never enough space in your enormous king-sized bed, but somehow, now that there wasn't an angry blonde on the other side of the mattress, it felt remarkably empty.

You were long since asleep, curled up and drooling on his chest before 11:30pm - despite your adamant denial that you 'do not drool'. You were tucked up against his side, Dynamight plushie firmly secured under your chin.

The sturdy hero thought it was the purest thing he'd ever seen, and it gave him a reason to text Katsuki so late. He knew under normal circumstances, the blond would kill him for being awake.

He doubted Kats would even be awake himself, but if he wasn't, at least he'd see Ejiro's text in the morning.

So he snapped a quick photo of the two of you, cringing at the brightness of the flash.

~ Red 🪨

Think someone's missing you

The responding message came through in seconds.

~ Blasty 💥

Can't believe we still have that stupid thing.

*image saved*

True enough, the limited edition plush had more than a few scorch marks on it. Evidence of Katsuki's previously attempted 'hits' on the doll.

Ejiro smiled to himself fondly.

~ Red 🪨

I think we'd both prefer it if it was the real Dynamight

~ Blasty 💥

Obviously.

Which in Bakugo language translated to 'Yeah, me too.'

You stirred slightly under your boyfriend's hold, and the red head made a mental note to type more quietly.

~ Red 🪨

How much longer do they think the assignment will take?

~ Blasty 💥

Fuckers keep giving me different answers. Hard to tell. If it’s not done by Friday I’m coming home anyway.

Ejirou knew he very likely would.

~ Blasty 💥

It’s late. Go to sleep, shitty hair.

~ Red 🪨

Can’t sleep. Miss you

~ Blasty 💥

Miss you too, E, and the Gremlin.

He meant you. The nickname stuck after the first time you all slept over together and Katsuki discovered your 'unsavoury' sleeping habits; snoring and latching onto people.

~ Red 🪨

This time it was Kirishima kissing your head gently, your face smooshed even further into his pec with the change in angle. He knew it was risky to use flash, but he was praying you’d stay asleep.

Wish you were here x

~ Blasty 💥

*image saved*

Why’s Friday so fucking far away?

The typing bubble filled the empty silence for a few seconds before disappearing. Riot held back a chuckle, he was tell Katsuki was wrestling with admitting defeat his feelings.

You guys are cute.

~ Red 🪨

Naww thanks babe, you’re not so bad yourself ;)

~ Blasty 💥

Don’t start shit, Ejiro. It's too late.

The red head felt suddenly cocky.

~ Red 🪨

That a challenge?

~ Blasty 💥

Warning you, E.

The red head considered his options for less than half a second before rolling away ever so slightly so he could send his partner a more…scandalous photo.

Pointing the camera towards his chest, Ejirou made sure to get his pec in frame once more, only slightly hardened this time, knowing how much the explosive hero loved them- even if he would rather die before admitting to that.

A cheeky smile showed off his sharp teeth and tongue that hung teasingly out from between them.

He winced at the flash once more, but decided his mission was worth it. Satisfied with himself, he pressed the send button as you stirred beside him.

~ Red 🪨

“E…what’re y’doing?” You mumbled.

“Shit, I’m sorry sweetheart. I was just texting Kats.”

“With flash on?” You grumbled, clearly unhappy with the hero beside you.

“I’m, ah….helping him out?”

“Oh. Can I see?”

~ Blasty 💥

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 1 year ago

Note

F***ing FINALLY!!! I've been looking for stuff with a Reader saving Dogday since he's been introduced and I've only got like, three so far-

And I want this Reader to be resourceful, using anything to patch Dogday up(including scraps of Miss Delight's dress)

I hear your calls <3

...............

"You're wasting precious time, angel. Poppy needs you. I'm only gonna slow you down. Just leave me here, and tell her I'm-"

"You'll get to tell her that yourself, Dogday. Because I'm not going anywhere. I'm gonna help you whether you like it or not."

With a huff, you used the grabpack to wheel in a cart filled with an assortment of items you picked up around the Playcare area: doll parts, plush felt, metal bars, and even Dogday's other missing leg, which you have miraculously found in the playhouse.

You did your best to stitch them back onto his body, although the real challenge was fixing them up first--considering how badly they got mangled by the smaller Smiling Critters. Through sheer luck, you were still able to recognize them as his legs.

And conveniently, you've retained some of your craftsmanship skills from your days working with Playtime Co.

You were given some praise for being able to speedily patch up broken and torn-up toys, but you've never touched upon any of the "Bigger Bodies" despite seeing similar injuries on them. They simply never gave you that clearance, and dealing with blood and organs (and possible death) was something way above your paygrade.

But with Dogday, you were able to apply similar techniques you used in doll repair. You made patches out of Miss Delight's polka-dot dress to cover up any tears, and you created small mechanisms to put inside his legs that would (hopefully) enable him to walk again.

It was like you were performing a surgical operation..

Except, well..that's exactly what was going on.

Despite your unwavering determination--and the fact that you succeeded in reattaching one leg to him so far--he insisted that you were only putting yourself at risk trying to help him.

Hell, you nearly got torn apart by those little Smiling Critters who chased you both down, being scared off by the flares you shot at them. He didn't think you'd have enough..but by the grace of god, you did. And you escaped and found a safe place where Kissy Missy and Poppy were also hiding out.

Not only did you finally get a breather, but also a chance to help one of the few toys left here who somehow didn't lose their humanity.

Even so, Dogday still feared for your safety.

"You know..this will only enrage Catnap, right?" He rasped, choking out a wet cough. "He'll know that I'm missing. And he'll know you have something to do with it.."

"Wait.." Pausing in your work, you glanced up at him with furrowed eyebrows. "Why would he care about where you are? Or better yet..why would he keep you alive at all?"

"...because I was his favorite."

"Huh..?"

"Before the Prototype became his sole focus, we did everything together." He explained somberly. "We helped the others fall asleep, stayed out of trouble. Catnap and I..we were like day and night. Two peas in a pod. He brands me a heretic now, but...somehow, I don't believe he likes doing so. Maybe..he hasn't forgotten our friendship, after all."

'Well, stringing someone up by belts and ripping off half their body doesn't sound like something a good friend would do..' You thought to yourself, although you understood where he was coming from.

Yet it didn't change the fact you still wanted to kill that stupid purple cat. Especially after he gave you that hellish nightmare of Huggy crawling out of a television.

"I know you wanna believe there's still good in him, but..he's long gone." You shook your head. "Those critters..they tried crawling inside your body, and he was just gonna allow it all because you didn't wanna follow the Prototype's will."

"........"

Silence was your only reply, but you decided to shift your focus back on repairing the other leg. Dogday allowed you to work, no longer protesting as he instead looked at the stitches on his arms, feeling grateful yet unworthy at the same time.

Him and the others...they were all monsters. He never killed a single human in his existence (or at least none that he could recall), but he felt like he was just as terrible as those who did.

Eventually, you finished, and his ears perked up at your sigh of relief as you set down your tools and pushed the cart away. "There we go. Try to stand up, but take it slow. Okay?"

He nodded, feeling quite nervous as he looked at his legs, before he slowly pushed himself off the ground. For a few moments, he was able to stand, but he wobbled a little and had to hold onto the nearest wall so he didn't lose balance.

'When was the last time I had my legs? It's been so long...'

Then he felt your grabpack's hands gently steady him, and soon enough he could stand on his own without their support.

You smiled and retracted them. "How do you feel?"

"Much better...thank you, angel." Dogday looked down at you, the corners of his wide smile turning further upwards. "You truly are something divine. You've come to heal us, mend all of our broken pieces, even when we do not deserve such kindness. How could I ever repay you?"

Right as you were about to respond, you heard sounds of plush feet moving and turned around, seeing Kissy and Poppy entering the room.

You didn't really he'd nearly be as tall as Huggy's spouse.

"You fixed him! What can't you do?" The redhaired doll gasped in awe, hopping onto Kissy's hand before she was carefully transferred over to Dogday's paws, stepping into them.

He held her gently, smiling. "Poppy."

"It's so good to see you, my friend." She smiled, although it was quick to disappear. "I thought all of you were gone."

"It's just me now, and...I'm....I-I'm...." He began to sniffle, his voice breaking as the weight of everything that's happened came crashing down. "I'm so sorry...I tried so hard, but...I-I failed! I couldn't protect them!"

Thin streams of tears seeped from the corners of his eyes, darkening the fur along his cheeks. "Kickin'...B-Bobby..they all died because of me! I was supposed to be their leader, but all I did was lead them to their demise! I-I should have joined them in-"

"There, there..it's going to be alright." Poppy softly hushed him, patting his arm in comfort. "You did your best to protect them given the circumstances. I promise we'll have our chance to avenge them. But you must live, for their sake..and for [y/n]'s sake, too. They went through a lot to fix you up."

"I know but..I-I'm so scared. I don't wanna face him alone-"

"You won't be alone, because I'm gonna take care of him."

With another sniffle, Dogday looked down at you, feeling you gently petting his ear as another comforting gesture. Your eyes held nothing but sympathy and heartache for this poor creature. "I'm sorry, but we have to put him down. It's the only way we can move forward."

"Are you sure?" He mumbled. "He's gotten more powerful, and hungry-"

"So were Huggy and Mommy, but I saw how [y/n] dealt with them..and they're more than capable." Poppy remarked. "But now that Catnap's onto them, they'll need all the protection they can get."

"Then..I'll do my best to help." He finally declared, smiling at you.

You blinked, surprised that he was willing to stand up against the one who tortured him. But you simply nodded and smiled back, watching as he returned Poppy to Kissy, before he turned back to you and crouched down.

He enveloped you in a warm hug, the vanilla scent still seeping from his suit and helping you feel more at ease.

"Thank you, Dogday." You chuckled, hugging him back.

"No..thank you, my guardian angel. I will follow you to the ends of the earth."

#clanask #poppy playtime x reader #poppy playtime dogday #dogday x reader #poppy playtime poppy #kissy missy #platonic #poppy playtime spoilers #hurt/comfort

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pseudowho · 8 months ago

Text

Deeper, Harder, Faster: Reader/Ino/Nanami

After a chat with the lovely @nanaslutt, I can with absolute delight say that they have given me their blessing to write this exquisite smut blurb in full.

Everyone say thank you @nanaslutt 🙇‍♀️ for allowing Haitch to go to town.

Based on this! post here. Please do go and like/reblog the original idea.

Warnings: 18+, mentor/mentee relationship, threesome, PiV, anal, oral f!receiving

Here we go...

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Nanami Kento bristled with annoyance, as another doghouse sigh broke his fragile peace. Ino slumped on his arms, his cheek pressed against the table, looking like such a boy that Nanami couldn't help but enquire.

"What is it, Ino?"

"It's nothing, Nanami."

Nanami folded his book closed, huffing a little. "It's clearly not 'nothing'. I'm not one to pry, but--"

"It's my girlfriend, Nanami, I'm letting her down. She says 'go faster', or 'go deeper', or 'go harder' and she doesn't know what she's asking for, I don't want to hurt her--"

"Stop. Ino."

An awkward silence hung between Ino and Nanami for the former's fractious outburst, and the faintest blush smattered across Nanami's high cheekbones. He cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses.

"Well, that took...absolutely no insistence at all on my part, did it?" At Ino's groan, muffled as he pulled his balaclava down over his reddening face, Nanami cleared his throat again and continued. "While that was...altogether none of my business, I might hesitantly suggest that the young lady knows her own mind, Ino. If she is...dissatisfied with intimacy, have you considered doing as she asks?"

"I just think she's asking too much, y'know? I'll hurt her--"

"Have you a safe word?"

Ino hesitated, stuttering. "A-a...safe word?"

"Yes, a safeword. You've tried some different positions, I assume? Perhaps you've let her lead the way if she chooses? Responded to her cues?"

Nanami looked over his glasses with each recommendation, feeling grimmer and grimmer at Ino's continued vacant expression. Nanami hummed into his coffee, a cover-all sound of dismay, before a switch flicked on Ino's face.

"Could you show me?"

Nanami choked on his coffee, recovering with a cough, shocked by how eagerly his cock twitched against his thigh. Thoughts of watching you spread beneath Ino, pleasured by his own instruction, bloomed a sordid power fantasy he'd never known he had. He tried to look impassive, and not as eager as he felt.

"Show you?"

"Yeah, uh...I-I bet she wouldn't mind."

Nanami could blame the way that the blood rushed from his brain to his dick, as the reason for his easy agreement, but he'd be lying.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Nanami was as taut as a bowstring, his suit-jacket discarded, in yours and Ino's bedroom. He was humid with the scent of your sex, shot through by your whimpers and gasps, as Ino fucked lazily against the bed with your clit in his mouth.

Nanami's fists clenched as your head rolled on the bed to look at him; the only outward sign that he was at all affected by your plush, parted lips, the way your breasts peaked, lonely and without attention, and the way your orgasm crept closer. And yet, it all meant naught when your pleasure was so two-dimensional.

"Deeper-- Takuma-- please--"

Though Ino was tonguing your wet little pussy to climax through mouth alone, you arched, frustrated, wanting more than just the first slim inch of Ino's fingers. Ino curled his fingertips barely past your entrance, featherlight, hardly past the first knuckle. Nanami suppressed a scowl.

Ino muffled something into your pussy as you came with a weak cry; an orgasm, yes, but not the one you had wanted. Not the one that would have you seeing God, and forgetting the days of the week. Your cunt and belly had, after all, been left utterly unfucked.

"See, baby? Nice and gentle..." Ino whispered against your thigh, pressing tender kisses to your folds, to your blushing, half-satisfied smile. "So good...so pretty--"

Nanami felt your frustration; despite having never been entered, he knew the unique deep, yanking climax of a hook behind one's navel, and suspected that you were fucking yourself better with toys than Ino was with his body.

Nanami squirmed, spreading his thighs to allow room for the heavy tenting of his lap, and tried to be unaffected by the way your head turned to him again, a thread of pleading in your eyes. Nanami was never one to deny a woman begging, and it tortured him even to pay witness to it, as a mentor.

All the worse, even Ino's cock was gentle, sliding into you as if you were made of glass. Nanami could have cried for the way Ino shook with the effort of holding back, despite your arching, despite the way you whispered to Ino, for him to move 'deeper' and 'harder' and 'faster'.

Watching the slow, supple roll of Ino's tight body into yours, and watching the way you had given up asking for more, Nanami's self-restraint snapped, his cool voice belying stormy waters.

"Listen to your girl, Ino. Do as she says."

Ino's hips stuttered, a flush on his cheeks as he threatened to come before he'd even taken you to the brink and back again.

"S-she's...she's okay, aren't you, babe?"

You blushed beneath Ino, lying as if you weren't scrutinised by sharp brown eyes; lying, as if your own eyes hadn't been begging for Nanami's intervention only moments before.

"Yeah, I...I'm fine, I--"

"Fine?" Nanami spat, on his feet now, and prowling around the end of the bed, examining Ino's slowly fucking hips from all angles.

"You're supposed to be pleasured until you can't remember your own name, and you're just fine?"

You blushed, called out, turning your head away as Ino's movements slowed to a halt, and he gazed down at you, breathless and uncertain.

"...babe?"

Nanami continued, growling, palming his aching cock against his zipper. His breath, his cologne, ghosted against Ino's flushed cheek.

"You're supposed to be making love to her, not treating her like a little glass doll. You're satisfied with her calling your cock 'fine'?"

Ino doubled down, foolishly. "I just don't wanna hurt her, I'm big and I--"

Nanami growled, his hand tangling into the back of Ino's hair to yank Ino's head backwards. Nanami's voice rang deep and dark and desperate; "She said deeper. She said harder. She said faster. Do you need to be forced?"

Ino's lip puckered up, almost tearful, defiant, as if he hadn't been the one who had asked his mentor for help. Nanami nodded, coming to a slow realisation, before firmly, affectionately, slapping Ino's cheek once, twice, three times.

"Ah...I see. Well, if that's the only way you'll learn..."

Ino watched with a squirm in his belly, as his mentor, thick-bodied and tall, paced over to the bedside table, pulling out a bottle of lube.

By the time Nanami had walked back round to observe the way that Ino's cock had completely stilled within you, he had unzipped himself and hooked his own aching cock and balls out.

Still in his tie, his shoes, his harness, fully dressed, Nanami hissed as he slid one lube-wettened fist down his twitching length, gritting his teeth, his eyes blackened over by something altogether more military. He cast his eyes over the pair of you once more, barely more than a pair of kids in your early twenties, fucking like amateurs.

It wasn't your fault, Nanami reasoned, masturbating himself as if his cock could possibly get any harder. And so, he threw his attention back to his mentee.

"What are you waiting for, Ino? Deeper. Harder. Faster."

Ino shuddered, every fine sinew across his sculpted shoulders twitching, as his hips picked up a fractured, barely increased pace. You arched again, sighing into the almost there thrusts into your core, whimpering with frustration when Ino chased his own hips backwards at your insistent arching.

In immediate response, Nanami's free hand slapped Ino hard across the ass, eliciting a yelp from Ino. A muffled giggle burst forth from you, before you clapped a hand over your mouth. It threatened to bubble over, as you swore you saw the hint of a laugh at the corner of Nanami's mouth. Instead he rumbled again, to Ino's mortified blushes.

"Deeper. Harder. Faster."

"I am, Nanami--"

"I don't see you having to hold her in place. I don't hear the headboard rattling. I don't hear a single fucking noise from her."

By the time another minute of Ino's shallow, pitiful thrusts had passed, Nanami had made up his mind. Ino felt another slap to his ass, yelping as Nanami chased him up the bed. You scooched up beneath him, and your heart stuttered to feel your boyfriend pressed down to your chest, with Nanami arching above him, mounting him.

"Am I going to have to show you, Ino?"

That voice; so much calmer than Nanami was, in truth, with precum dripping onto Ino's ass. Ino felt every hair on his body stand on end, swallowing thickly. He felt Nanami's cock, longer and thicker than his own, heavy against the small of his back.

"I...I..."

"Well?"

"I...o-okay. Y-yeah. Show me."

A satisfied grunt from behind Ino...and the wet pumping of a bottle of lube. Ino felt Nanami whisper at his ear, and a thick, insistent nudging at his entrance.

"Even with less prep than you gave your girl, you'll take me hard, and deep, and fast. If that's the only way to show you."

Ino felt Nanami's bulbous, slippery cock head fuck into his entrance with little warning, and Ino collapsed onto his forearms above you, his hips finally flush with yours as he was forced deeper into your pussy. Nanami swore, cursing and pushing himself even deeper in one swift movement, to bury his cock fully inside Ino.

Ino whimpered between you and Nanami, and you bit your lip, burying your fingers into Ino's hair and whispering sweet nothings into his ear.

"...attaboy...show you what she needs, hmm? Fuck...so tight..."

Nanami appeared to be collecting himself above you both, panting and straining with the effort of giving Ino a moment to adjust. You threaded your other hand around Nanami's harness, your fingers tight against his chest, and he opened his eyes, heated. The hint of a smile was there again, and he looked into your eyes as he pulled almost completely out of Ino...before fucking into him again, immediately setting a ruthless pace.

You and Ino both crumpled as one, crushed beneath Nanami's overbearing force. The harsh drag and thrust of Nanami's cock in and out of Ino, moved Ino's hips for him. Ino's cock only hardened with Nanami's relentless pounding into his prostate, and you finally felt every single inch of Ino, forced into you to the hilt, finally giving you the belly-deep fullness you had craved for so long. Your guttural moan, and the way you dragged both Ino and Nanami closer by harness and hair, told Nanami he was finally hitting the mark.

"There you go...Ino...see?" Nanami panted, slamming himself into Ino's prone, twitching body. "Look at...at her now. Harder...deeper...faster. How does it feel...darling?"

"G-god-- o-oh my god-- so good so so good--augh--!"

The noises coming out of Ino were barely human, burned at both ends until his entire core was aflame. It took all of his strength simply to not crush you, and he found himself woefully out of control. He had only the vaguest, nebulous thought that his hips were being slammed into you with more force that he could ever generate himself...and you were crying his name in absolute bliss. Not begging him to stop. Not telling him it hurt. But, begging him for more, in desperate little babbles and whimpers.

Though Nanami's thrusts were brutal, they showed no sign of slowing. When he felt Ino's hole clenching around his cock, seeing the first signs of Ino's orgasm approaching, Nanami looped one thick forearm around Ino's neck, forcing Ino to arch up to him, and growling into Ino's ear.

"Not yet-- I don't think the lady's quite finished, is she? Don't be such a boy."

Ino sobbed into your neck, begging to be allowed completion, his voice wet against your skin as Nanami denied him his orgasm for the sake of your own. Ino's sloppy mumbling was barely coherent, combining with Nanami's fractious grunts and curses to give you the orgasm soundtrack of your dreams.

"--s'too much-- so f-full, sorry--s-sorry, I didn't...feels so good...m'gonna come-- babe--"

Reaching around Ino to you, and pulling back for just a moment, Nanami scooped your ass and thighs up into a harsh mating press, with Ino crushed between you both. With Nanami's enormous hands pushing your knees to your chest, and Ino's sobbing, forced fucking into you, you were reduced to divine whimpering, your pussy beginning to clench around Ino's twitching length.

The heavy pressure of Ino's weight forced against your clit and his belly-deep thrusts, sent you tumbling over the edge fast. Finally, your orgasm had teeth, and the cries that left you were hoarse with bliss.

Unable to look at Ino, with his tearstained face still buried in your neck, you instead cried your pleasure to Nanami, your eyes glossy, your face twisted as if in pain. Seeing the way his pupils dilated, and the way his hips stuttered, made you certain you were milking Nanami's cock, instead of your boyfriend's.

You heard Nanami's satisfied whispers guiding you through, feeling him admiring the way tears glittered on your lashes.

"--good girl...good girl, you knew...knew you could take it...clever girl..."

Ino followed you swiftly into oblivion, your plush fluttering walls dragging his orgasm as Nanami's cock against his prostate pushed it. Ino convulsed, a choking symphony of moans spilling over, unbidden. His legs kicked out against the bed, his hands clasping the sheets, while white-knuckled pleasure surged through him from head to toe.

You knew his seed would take time to trickle out of you tonight, so deeply seated was his ejaculation against your gulping cervix, that you wondered if any would make its way out of your cunt at all. Nanami was too far gone, husky, and still, somehow, chastising Ino through his pleasure.

"--listen...to your girl, and don't...don't come crying to me...if you can't satisfy her...don't deserve her if you don't listen to her...shit..."

Having done his duty, with commas of hair escaping over his forehead, Nanami buried himself to the hilt inside Ino and came with a hushed, broken roar. All the while that his teeth clenched, and his seed striped the inside of your boyfriend, you could have sworn that you felt the pulsing heat within you, instead.

Nanami groaned and murmured, his cock fucking slower, deeper, softer, his orgasm long and draining. You knew you wouldn't be able to look at him the same again, knowing the voice of his pleasure.

Finally, Nanami stilled above Ino, groaning and giving Ino's hair one firm ruffle, before pulling out with a hiss. Nanami stood back on shaking legs, surveying the wreckage before him, sniffing and swiping one hand back through his hair.

Cleaning himself, Nanami nodded to you. Ino was too fucked-out and spent to even begin to communicate, and covered you like a weighted blanket, filled with Nanami's cum, while his own filled you.

"Any problems," Nanami toned, calm and collected once more, "come to me."

"Y-yeah." You panted, crushed beneath Ino's whimpering weight. "I'll... I'll take it...from here."

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t1red-twilight · 28 days ago

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hold me close

content/warnings: gn!reader, fluff, cuddling, no plot oops, avengers tower new era, probably spelling mistakes (i’m falling asleep)

wc: 2k

masterlist r. r. masterlist

the rest of the team had left about twenty minutes ago to go on a mission. you hadn’t really caught onto why they were leaving, but currently you couldn’t find it in yourself to care that much. to be honest, it just sounded like: “blah, blah, blah, guns, blah, blah, blah, the power of friendship.“

bob, of course, stayed behind. and while you were always upset that he couldn’t join the team on these important missions, currently you were enjoying spending time alone with him. somehow, someway, when he was alone he was even softer and gentler than he was regularly.

plus, it helped to have a alone time with him. especially when the two of you weren’t quite ready to tell the team that you were, well, together. you knew that they wouldn’t mind. not at all, in fact. there was already some teasing on a regular basis.

but the both of you reveled in the privacy, for as long as you had it. eventually, you would tell the rest of the team. but right now, this felt perfect.

as for why you were staying behind, it was because you had gotten injured on the last mission. you had gotten shot through your abdomen, and while you insisted that you were perfectly fine the rest of the team insisted that you stay behind.

you remembered bob’s reaction when you had to came back from that mission. you had been stitched up at that point, but that did not stop him from panicking. his breath had quickened in pace, and his hands were shaking violently. it took you, yelena and ava to calm him down.

ever since then, he had been even gentler with you than before, and you hadn’t even considered that physically possible. you reassured him daily that the pain medication was working, and just him being around was medication in and of itself.

when you had told bob that you were staying behind on this one, you could tell that he was definitely upset about your injury. but, there was an underlying feeling that you both caught onto. you staying behind meant that you could have more alone time together without having to hide. his small, giddy smile, never got old.

so, the team had left quite a few minutes ago. you and bob waited just in case alexei or john had left something behind and needed to double back. after enough time it passed, you could finally be as close to him as he wanted to be.

you laid down on the couch. the plush of the couch caressed your back and provided comfort that you needed for what remained of your injury. you were fine, you swore. no one seemed to believe you, though. after some negotiating, you had successfully convinced bob to lay on top of you. if anything, the pressure on what was left of your wound was quite comforting and provided relief.

some rerun ran in the background. all you could focus on was bob’s soft breathing that brushed against your collarbone. you ran your fingers through his hair. you always found yourself able to relax when you were around him. you hoped and prayed that it was the same for him too. you knew he wasn’t asleep, just retreating into a relieved, calm state.

his arms were encircled around your waist, and you would’ve asked him if his blood circulation was being cut off, and he had casually and honestly told you that no, they weren’t, and he didn’t really care.

you felt bob inhale deeply. you were sure that if you looked at him, you could see him smiling widely. “this is always my favorite.“ he inhaled deeply again, “being with you. it’s the best part of my day.“

your thumb began to caress his cheek. “i don’t know what i would do without this. you’re always able to ground me.“

he craned his neck up to look at you. this time, you could see his smile in all its glory. “mhm. i agree completely. not in a way that i want you to think that i need you around constantly – i don’t want you to ever feel like you’re obligated to –“

you chuckled slightly and cut yourself off quickly. “you could never make me feel like that, bob. i wouldn’t want to be around you so much if i didn’t like you. you’re one of my favorite people on this planet.” you paused for a moment, then continued. “perhaps in this galaxy and every single multiverse. i’m never gonna leave unless you want me to.“ you matched his smile.

bob’s eyes softened. the slight tension in his jaw released; you caught onto the fact that he clenched his jaw often, and ground his teeth in his sleep. (not that you snuck into his room, and vice versa, and left before anyone could find out. never. there was also, never, any sort of pleading that either of you should stay longer. of course not.)

bob returned his head down on your collarbone again. his hand on your waist, dragged up to your upper back. you leaned down and kiss the crown of his head. you could’ve sworn that you felt slight shiver up his spine. you hoped that the effect that you had on each other would never lessen. you knew for a fact that his effect on you would never lighten.

all your partners before bob had not treated you in the nicest way, and occasionally his kindness and softness surprised you. bob nuzzled his nose into the spot where your neck met your collarbone. you could’ve sworn that you felt him smell you, but honest to god, you didn’t mind. after all, bob always smelled nice to you. it was flattering that it seemed that he felt the same for you.

“are you enjoying the show?” bob murmured it into your neck. the vibrations from his voice sent shivers through your body, and you tried to suppress them. he still had an effect on you, and you were trying to get used to not hiding that despite your embarrassment. the embarrassment just stemmed from a place of being embarrassed of liking him as much as you did. you had never liked someone like you had him.

you chuckled mischievously. “i’m not really watching it, to be honest.“

bob laughed with you. “yeah, me neither. i’m just too lost in how comfortable you are.“ you laughed again, louder this time. you pulled his head closer to you and kiss his forehead this time.

bob responded by pulling you closer to him as well. you traced circles on his neck with your fingertips. you sighed contentedly, it was so easy to get “lost“ (to match his phrasing). he was just so perfect for you. he understood you when you were hurting, and so did you for him.

when you first started your rendezvous, you hadn’t expected him to be so touchy. but the more time you had with him, the more you realized that physical touch was something that he longed for. you didn’t like to think how much of that he had denied himself, or that he had been denied.

and while you weren’t super fond of physical touch from other people, you craved it so very deep deeply from him. he would kill a man just for one hug from him, as dramatic as that was.

bob was just teddy bear heart. a large teddy bear, and a traumatized teddy bear, but neither of those bothered you. you’d give him all the reassurance and comfort that he needed because he returned that when you needed it.

“how long do you think it will take for them to get back?” you whispered, teetering the edge between being awake and falling asleep.

bob tried before responding. “i don’t know. i just hope it takes a while.” you snorted.

you bit your lip as you held back a smile. “so you want them to struggle? do you want them to be in danger?” you stated with sarcasm saturating every word.

bob looked up again, meeting your eye line. “what? of course, not. i just want to have as much time with you as I can.” his watery blue eyes looked at you with confusion. you couldn’t really tell if he was also being sarcastic or not.

you laughed at his response. “i’m just joking, honey. i knew that’s not what you meant. in the least sadistic way possible, i hope there’s just a tinier bit of trouble more than usual. just so i can have a little more time with you.”

you tucked his head back down again. “i figured.” after a few moments he spoke up again. “should we turn off the tv? we’re not really watching it.” his voice was dropping in decibels, sleep clouding his words.

you shrugged. “i don’t really mind if it’s on or off. if you want it off, we can turn it off though.” he mirrored you by shrugging again. neither of you had really watched the movie.

his breath began to slow, and he once again pulled you tighter to him. “eh, i don’t really care.“ he placed a kiss along the column of your throat, and grinned when he felt you shiver.

you reached to your side to grab the remote off of the coffee table. at this action, bob grunted in faux annoyance. you smiled lovingly and shut off the tv. then, you settled back in and wrapped your arms around him. one of your hands was on his upper back and the other was on the back of his head.

in the back of your mind, you knew that it wasn’t a good idea to be falling asleep on the couch. however, you didn’t really care in the moment. bob was just holding you so closely that you couldn’t focus on what was best, considering your secret arrangement.

you noticed the chill of the room. some part of you wondered if he had lowered the temperature right before the team had left so that when the time came, he would have some excuse to be close to you. you had caught him doing this before. but you didn’t mind; it was kind of cute.

it didn’t take long until sleep overcame you despite you best efforts. bob always fell asleep before you did, and at some point he had mentioned that falling asleep was easier with you around. you too felt more comfortable around him than you did alone.

you awoke to the sound of a shutter noise, coming from above you. “shit!” someone, probably ava, hoarsely whispered. “why isn’t your phone on silent?” her tone was filled with vitriol.

“what do you mean silent?“ another voice whisper-yelled. bucky, maybe? “i don’t know what that means. i only have this phone because you and yelena made me get it.” yep. definitely bucky.

your eyes opened just a crack. there was the team, coated in dirt and grime, and hovering above you. bucky’s phone was directly in front of his face, akin to how an old man would be holding his phone. well, that is technically what he was.

you shook bob awake. “bob, we have an audience.” he shook the sleep off, and pulled an arm out from underneath you to rub the sleep out of his eyes.

“huh?” bob looked around at your crowd. “oh. damn. i guess we don’t have to tell them now.” he looked back down at you, and he didn’t seem all that upset. and frankly, neither were you.

alexei yelled, making you flinch at the noise. “what do you mean tell us? have you been banging behind our backs? how long?”

you looked at him and confusion. “first of all, no one says ‘banging’ anymore. second of all, this is exactly why we didn’t tell you in the first place.“ while you were being honest, you made an effort to sound not too serious. bob was right though, at least now you didn’t have to sit them down and tell them.

#lee’s writing <3 #robert reynolds #bob reynolds #robert reynolds x reader #bob reynolds x reader #x reader #fluff #bob reynolds fluff #marvel #mcu #thunderbolts #mcu x reader #marvel mcu

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fadedtoneverland · 1 month ago

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d&g’s prince | c.sn

❤︎ synopsis — your boyfriend is away at milan for another fashion show. you’re lowkey (highkey) missing him very much, until he facetimes you to check in on you… wearing something a little too sexy

pairing: choi san x fem!reader

theme: fluff ✿ , suggestive ❤︎, slight crack ✦ (if you squint)

a/n: seeing the clips of him circling around online in this outfit …. i went a lil’ too crazy … i didn’t want to post another smut fanfic of san, so i just went for the suggestive route

cw: reader makes lots of sex jokes cuz they’re feral. implied sex at the ending. mostly teasing and shi

you never knew true boredom and desperation.

well, at least not ‘till this week.

your absolutely stunning, gorgeous, panty-dropping enigma of a man, choi san, had left your poor self all alone in your apartment. not intentionally, of course. being a hot idol that’s constantly in the spotlight, was a busy lifestyle that you completely understood.

and san just so happened to get invited to one of dolce & gabbana’s latest fashion week shows, a brand that san has modeled for numerous times.

he was over the moon, absolutely beaming about going to milan again. you were happy for him too. only problem is, he couldn’t take you with him. san being san, wouldn’t stop whining about how he couldn’t take his “absolute unit of a partner” with him, but you reassured him everything would be fine back home in seoul, and you’d regularly text.

even then, sending off san with kisses and goodbyes at the airport didn’t stop you from missing him. because, he’s choi san. who wouldn’t miss their boyfriend if he was choi san.

so now here you were, curled up in your plush, king sized bed underneath the duvet. a jellycat goose tucked underneath your chin while you scrolled through your texts with san.

sannie <3 [12:03am]: baby

sannie <3 [12:03am]: are u up ??

sannie <3 [12:03am]: just finished a pop live

sannie <3 [12:04am]: come facetime me i wanna say hiiii :33

sannie <3 [12:05am]: do it >:((

you couldn’t hold back your smile. oh san, that lovable little dork. despite being the hottest person to literally grace god’s green earth, he was still a clingy goofball of a man.

your fingers glides across your screen as you typed back

y/n [12:07am]: omg i will

y/n [12:08am]: so needy, ur lucky ur cute

sannie <3 [12:10am]: ik i am <3

sannie <3 [12:11am]: open ur laptop, baby. i’ll be on soon

and you did as you were told, getting comfy underneath your duvet while pulling out your sticker-infested laptop. snuggled in san’s favorite hoodie that had a faint scent of his sandalwood cologne, you eagerly opened the screen and clicked on the bright green facetime icon, waiting for him to call you up.

you were incredibly giddy too, trying to act like you weren’t delusional and the most sane person on planet earth. and well- you weren’t really being delusional, considering that you were dating the choi san himself.

the incoming call icon popped up on your screen, and you quickly shifted to sit up while hovering your cursor over the green button, clicking it, and watching as the screen expanded to reveal your stunning boyfriend.

“hi, baby!” san called out, waving to you. his voice smooth as honey. ugh, you could listen to him forever, especially when he sounds so happy.

“my man,” you sighed dreamily while giving him a little finger wave, resting your cheek on your palm. “i seriously felt like i was gonna die if i went another day without hearing your voice.”

san laughed, the sound light and teasing. “oh, really? and you’re calling me needy? can’t even go a week without hearing my angelic voice, y/n.”

“yeah? well—“ you were about to retort wittily to his teasing, but the grainy web camera on san’s end cleared up a bit more, showing off a bit more details of the black outfit he was wearing. the sight made you effectively stop talking, which san took notice of.

“baby?” san called out, smirk faltering a bit from concern. “you alright—?”

“stand up.” you suddenly said.

your boyfriend blinked.

“i- wha—“

“i said stand up, choi san,” you interrupted firmly. “show me what kind of slutty fit you have on.”

san blinked once. then twice. he did a little head shake before chuckling, slowly standing up from his swivel chair and adhering to your hasty demands.

“whatever you want, angel.” san sang teasingly, pushing the chair away from his desk and stepping back to give you a tantalizing view of the outfit. the camera cut out his face, and the desk cropped up to his thighs, not showing you the full body, but showing just enough details to make you go feral.

san always looked good in black, made his features pop more, and just dripped him out in sin and scandal. but your eyes roved hungrily over the expanse of his muscles that were very much defined by his shirt.

his top, thin cotton fabric in the form of the sexiest blouse you’ve seen him wear. the middle part dipped down just enough to reveal a flirty little chest window for your lucky eyes. some black stringed ribbon was tied together nearly at the front of his shirt, creating a more sinful feel, knowing he can just untie those strings and flash you with his glorious tits at any given moment.

and the jeans? tight, leather, and fucking whorish. even when he did a little spin in front of the web cam to give you the whole galore of his outfit, you couldn’t stop thinking about how those jeans fitted perfectly along his hips and curve of his ass.

you were destroyed completely, reduced to nothing but a horny little dog who felt like they were gonna howl at the moon any second. and san seemed to notice, due to your lack of speaking after he showed off his stripper fit.

“uhh… y/n?” san called out while leaning down so his face was in view of the webcam. “are you okay?”

a beat of silence. one breath. then two.

and…

“you little shit.” you suddenly blurted out.

san was baffled. “… huh???”

“who told you that you could dress up like a hooker??”

silence.

then san shook his head, blinking furiously. “i— w-what?!”

your devastatingly hot boyfriend practically lurched himself back in the rolling chair, completely bewildered by your bold, yet astronomically down bad statement for him. meanwhile, you just stared at the camera, completely serious.

“babe, this is so unfair. you can’t dress up looking like a full-course meal and not expect me to go feral,” you said, practically whining with how devastated you were. “and you’re in milan too? ugh, even worse. who’s gonna suck your dick ‘till the skin falls off now??”

san choked on his own saliva. “until the skin falls off—?! baby- it’s just a shirt!!”

“yeah, a shirt that’s making my pussy way too wet. there’s a whole damn tsunami down there.”

“princess—“

“if i was a man i’d be popping the biggest boner right now, i’m just saying.”

san was crying with laughter. laughter from both disbelief and amusement. he’s heard you say all sorts of diabolical stuff regarding many things, but never to this level of down bad. maybe this was your glorious way of reminding him who gives him the best blowjobs while he’s gone.

“baby— honey—“ san laughed, rubbing the tears of joy out of his eyes. “you- you can’t just say stuff like that! it hasn’t even been that long since i left korea.”

you scoffed, and turned your head dramatically away from the virtual image of your boyfriend. “yeah, but it’s been long enough since i last saw you, and you have the audacity to come on here and flash me??”

san blinked. again.

“flash you???”

“uh, yeah? i’m getting the whole front row view of your twelve inch dick through those slutty pants, babe.”

“i— twelve inches!?”

“god created men and sent you as an apology, baby. you’re the whole package and i’m about to unwrap your boxers like one. i’ve gone too long without your glorious presence.”

san’s jaw was practically on the floor with that one, and you looked unfazed. composed, cool, collected, despite the sheer diabolical-ness of your filthy words.

remind him why you were his girlfriend again?

“okay, okay. if you really want to come see me, you can catch the closest flight to milan,” san said, leaning closer to the screen, flashing those cheeky dimples, “but it won’t be any cake walk trying to get alone time with me, baby.”

“fine by me,” you declared, smirking back at him. “i can be stealthy.”

san raised an eyebrow, amused. “i doubt it.”

“are you saying you don’t trust me?” you retort teasingly.

“no~ im just stating the facts, the fact that your chances of sneaking past all the guards and paparazzi and staff to be with yours truly is slim.”

“slim but never zero, baby. come on, i’ve done this plenty of times during tours. i can do it again for fashion week~”

and you just had to pull out those sparkly, mischievous eyes that you know san loves so much. god, he was a weak man when it came to you. but who could blame him? he was also dying to have you near him soon, especially with how busy the d&g fashion week as gotten him.

“i better see you here soon then, baby,” san said, grinning ear-to-ear while leaning back. “and wear an outfit that’s easy to rip off.”

you smiled devilishly, knowing you’ve won.

“already looking for tickets to milan, prince.”

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#ateez #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #kpop fanfic #kpop bg #ateez x reader #choi san #choi san x you #choi san x reader #ateez fluff #atz x reader #san x reader #fluff headcanons #choi san hard hours

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yandere-daydreams · 9 months ago

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Title: Malefic Attachment.

Pairing: Yandere!Malleus x Reader (TWST)

Written for a very lovely anonymous commissioner.

Word Count: 3.0k.

TW: Platonic (At The Moment) Yandere Malleus, Manipulation, Deliberate Social Isolation, and Obsessive/Delusional Behavior.

The worst thing about you, Malleus had decided, was that you’d chosen to be his friend.

‘Chosen’, because you’d been the one to approach him, a dazzling smile painted across your lips and a dozen questions about his life as royalty in a faraway land on your tongue, and ‘worst’, because he couldn’t think of a single other thing about you that he despised so fervently, or for that matter, that he disliked at all. He couldn’t be sure when he came to such a grim conclusion, although it had most likely been some time between the fourth time you’d sought him out in the minutes between your classes and the seventh you apologized for having to cut your conversation so short, nor was he entirely certain why the thought of having any claim to you left him so unsettled, despite how innocent your relationship was.

Briefly, he’d considered keeping you at a distance, telling his retainers to make sure you stayed at arm’s length, but he hated the thought of inconveniencing Silver and Sebek, and he hated the thought of having no claim to you at all even more. He’d never hurt you, nor was he possessive by nature. Most days, the only thing he craved was to sit by your side and—

“Malleus?” He felt a shoulder nudge into his side, a glanced down to find you, of course – staring up at him, smiling as if you already knew he’d been too lost in his own thoughts to listen properly. Immediately, it was all he could do to settle into place and smile back.

Most days, the only thing he wanted was to sit by your side and be with you, and it would’ve been a shame to squander such a golden opportunity to do just that.

He moved to apologize, to explain himself, but there was no need. You were already rolling your eyes and returning to your previous posture; curled into yourself, your legs folded against your chest, chin resting on your knees. It was strange – what lengths such a small creature would take to make itself even smaller. Malleus couldn’t help but find it endearing, the way he might’ve found a plush toy endearing, or a particularly charming prey animal. “I just don’t understand what’s going on,” you sighed, slumping further into yourself. Instantly, Malleus knew that whatever the cause of your distress was, it would not survive much longer than that night.

Still, he listened intently, as you went on. “I mean, I have to be the problem, right? I’m the only common factor – well, me and NRC, but it’s not like people are avoiding school.” Another sigh. This time, when you buried your face in your knees, it remained there. “They’re just avoiding me. I must’ve done something wrong.”

“Never,” he said, because it was true. Because you were infallible, save for your poor taste in companionship. “I can’t imagine what would lead you to believe such a terrible thing. Did someone tell you that?”

There was no real point to asking. He would’ve known if someone had planted such a vile thought in your head; would’ve dealt with it on the spot. Despite his reservations, Malleus made a hobby out of your safekeeping. If something were to happen to you, a human brazen enough to share his company so often, it would’ve reflected poorly on him.

(It’d occurred to him that you were not the first human to ever approach him, nor would you be the last, but Malleus opted against lingering on such technicalities. You were the only human to enjoy the spoils of his protection, and that was enough to make you wholly unique.)

You didn’t answer, not at first. Instead, your attention drifted from him to the view you two so often enjoyed together. It’d been difficult to convince you to join him here – on the roof of Diasomnia’s tallest tower, where one could make out mile after mile of dark, inviting forest in every direction and the dark colors of your dorm uniform blended into those of the night sky – but it’d been even more difficult to convince Vil to let you slip out after curfew. While Malleus knew he had no right to question the nature of your soul, he did often wonder why you had to be placed into Pomefiore, of all possible dorms. Schoenheit was one of the stricter house wardens, outmatched only by Rosehearts. It was difficult to steal a student of his dorm away at the best of times, and Malleus rarely wanted to see you at the best of times. If you’d belonged to Savannahclaw or, should he be so lucky, Diasomnia, there would be no need to rely on Schoenheit’s sparse charity after he’d already gone to the lengths necessary to seek you out.

But you were precious to Malleus, and there were few things he wouldn’t do to ensure your happiness. He cared about you – irrationally so. “My lab partner,” you admitted, eventually. Malleus felt something deep within his chest lose its shape, and yet his smile could only seem to widen. “I don’t know him that well, so it’s not like I have any right to feel… betrayed, I guess, but—”

“You have every right to feel exactly how you feel,” he interjected. “What did he say?”

Malleus already knew. He wanted to hear from your lips, though.

“It’s a little hard to remember.” And yet, you didn’t hesitate to go on. “I think… I think he might’ve said it was too dangerous to be around me. That I was a hazard to have in class, or something.”

That was only half-true, although he doubted you were lying deliberately. Just ‘a hazard to be around’ would’ve been more accurate, on its own. “Is that all?” He moved closer, draping an arm over your shoulders. Automatically, you melted into his side – your body slotting perfectly against his. “You have to know how untrue that is. You’re an excellent mage, and a pleasure to—”

“He’s not the only one, though.” It was the first time he heard your voice so pitiful, so distorted. Malleus couldn’t help but find it endearing. It would’ve been better for both of you, if you allowed yourself to be more reliant on him. “My roommate – that’s someone you have to share a room with when your dorm doesn’t unanimously decide to worship the ground you walk on, I know you’re probably not familiar with the concept – requested to move last week, and—” Your voice caught in your throat, your gazing turning downward. Malleus felt his fangs sharpen behind his lips, but repressed the urge to act on his less wholesome instincts. “There’s this boy in my third hour – from Ignihyde, I think. I swear, I’ve never even talked to him, but last time we had class together, he just came up to me, and—” You paused, shrunk into yourself. You attempted to pull away from Malleus, but he only drew you in tighter, and your resolve gave away far faster than his patience. “He called me a freak.”

Ah.

Malleus had wondered what’d come of his brief conversation with your classmate. It was a tamer offense than what he’d expected, although you were having a much stronger reaction than he would’ve hoped.

You weren’t wrong, for what it was worth. You hadn’t spoken to that particular classmate, but you could have. He’d planned to confess to you during your shared period, although he hadn’t thought to phrase it quite so romantically. Sebek had overheard him building up his courage, and it’d only taken a few words from Malleus to dissuade him from doing anything so foolish. Not that it was foolish to want to be around you – if that was true, he would be the biggest fool of them all. It was only foolish to think that someone so insignificant, someone so unimportant had any more right to be around you than Malleus did.

He couldn’t help but notice, as time went on, that all of the people you may’ve once considered friends were rather weak-willed. It was a tragedy, really. Malleus was aware that he had a reputation among the mortal portion of NRC’s student body, but that was no excuse to act the way your ‘friends’ always seemed to – sniveling and shaking, brought to tears by even the implication of a threat. He worried, at first, that they’d go running to you, spout off something awful and exaggerated that painted his protective habits in an unflattering light, but as far as he could tell, it was unfounded fear – an easily dealt with one, at that. Should anyone ever try to put anything but distance between you and themselves, he’d—

Well, he couldn’t hurt them. You wouldn’t care for him as much as you did, if he tried to.

That was, if you ever found out.

Again, his mind drifted back to Schoenheit; all narrowed eyes and pursed lips and disapproving scowls every time Malleus mentioned your name. It didn’t make him angry – he’d never been quick to anger, and it would only be childish to change that now – but he didn’t care for the way he felt when he was apart from you, when he couldn’t find an excuse to do away with the flimsy barriers that separated you from him. He didn’t enjoy the tightness in his chest, the dryness in the back of his throat, the way every little inconvenience left him on the brink of violence. No, he didn’t care for the way he behaved when you weren’t with him.

Yet again, his mind turned to Vil.

Perhaps he was more prone to anger than believed himself to be.

“Mortals,” He was talking before he realized he’d wanted to. His gaze flickered from you, still despondent and curled against his side, to the landscape, all-but pitch black under the thick veil of night. “are fickle creatures. They tend not to trust what they don’t control. Humans, especially.”

Another jab to his side, albeit not as forceful as the first. “Keep in mind that you’re talking to a human right now, Mal.”

“How could I forget?” This time, it was Malleus who detached from you, pushing himself to his feet and offering you a hand to help you do the same. With a huff, you followed him, mimicking exasperation as you let him guide you. “I only meant to say that you might not be entirely understood by such short-lived creatures. I mean, you’ve seen how they act around me.” He squeezed your hand, and bashfully, you looked away. “You agree, don’t you, (Y/n)?”

It took a moment, but with a small sigh and slight smile, you nodded. “…yeah, I guess. It’s not like teenagers are supposed to be nice or anything.”

“You agree, then. They’ve been treating you cruelly.”

Your smile wavered. Malleus considered that it may have been your fragility that’d endeared you to him. Or your inability to hide it, at least. “Well, I wouldn’t call them cruel, but…”

“But?”

“They can be mean, sometimes, I guess. The people in my dorm, especially.” You forced an airy laugh, turning away from him entirely. “I… I think Vil might’ve told them to keep an eye on me. They’ve been acting like I’m under house arrest, lately.”

“You must know how unfair that is.” Almost as unfair as Schoenheit’s attempts to keep you away from him. “And I’m sure you must know that you’d be much happier in a dorm with more open-minded students.”

Immediately, your expression dropped. You tried to pull your hands out of his, but he only tightened his grip. It pained him to exert any amount of control over you, but some pains were necessary. Those that kept you within the scope of his protection, especially. “I… I don’t really like where this is going, Malleus.”

“You haven’t even given me a chance to explain myself.” He didn’t realize his hold had tightened into something bruising until your lips quirked downward, eyes narrowing as you struggled to choke down a fractured whimper. Reluctantly, he released you, but his hands soon found their way to your shoulders. You couldn’t run, not on a rooftop, not very far, but there was no reason to give you the chance to. “I only think that you should consider how happy you could be if you—”

“Malleus,” you interjected. “I really don’t—”

“If you belonged to Diasomnia,” he finished, despite your protests. Impressively, you managed to bite your tongue long enough for him to explain himself properly. “Our students are much less territorial, and the majority are still human. If you’re afraid you’ll be an outcast, don’t be. You’ll still be among your own kind, just a less hostile breed.” When you failed to move, he gave himself the luxury of a less restricting form of affection – bring one hand up to cup your cheek. “I’m only trying to suggest that you seek out a more suitable place for yourself. It’s not as if staying where you are will make you any happier.”

“…I like Pomefiore, though. And it’s not like everyone’s avoiding me.” A lie, albeit one plausible enough to send a bolt of white, searing fear from the deepest hollow of Malleus’ chest to the back of his throat. He flinched, but caught himself before his pointed nails could harm your delicate skin. If you had any friends left (aside from himself, of course), he would tear them apart. He would carve their hearts from their bodies. He would—

He would change that.

There was no need to be so gruesome about it. Not yet, at least.

“You care for it more than you care for me?” He made sure to keep his tone light, teasing, only letting it dip into something more serious when you bit the inside of your cheek and looked away. “Please, don’t tell me that you still think they’re worth your time.”

“They’re not all bad.” You still weren’t looking at him. Malleus might’ve been more annoyed if he thought you had anything beyond him to pay attention to. “Vil’s a really good house warden, and—and, we have these skincare nights once a week, which might not sound very fun to you, but—Well, I haven’t been invited recently, but—”

To your credit, you didn’t need him to say anything. All it took was a sympathetic look, his palm slotted tenderly against your cheek, and you cracked before he had the chance to say a word.

“…but, even if I wanted to, I couldn’t.” You shook your head, shrugged, as if it wasn’t a matter of true concern. As if you wouldn’t give anything to be as near to him as possible. “It’s not like I can just decide to change the nature of my soul. That’s between the dark mirror and…” Another chirping laugh, like windchimes and birdsong and silver bells. Malleus could only hope he’d hear it again sometime soon, in a more celebratory context. “…itself, I think.”

“Normally,” he admitted, running his thumb over your cheek. “Save for when you have another extremely competent house warden to petition the headmaster on your behalf.”

Even in the dim light, he could make out your cheeks flush. Good. He wanted to have an effect on you – any effect at all. “Malleus, I—I really can’t ask you to do that. You’re already so busy, and I really don’t mind—”

“(Y/n).” Immediately, you went quiet. He rarely used your name, and you knew to pay attention, when he did. “If you can tell me, honestly, that you do not believe you’d be happier in Diasomnia than you currently are, I’ll drop the matter entirely.”

You pursed your lips, your eyes meeting his own for the first time since he’d broached the topic. “…and if I couldn’t say that?”

Biting back his grin would’ve been impossible. He could only hope you mistook his delight for relief. “Then consider it done.”

You really were a delicate creature. A few seconds of quiet anticipation, a gentle squeeze to your arm, and he all-but watched you fold into yourself, crumpling under the weight of your own isolation. A small, unsteady smile spread over your lips as you pulled away from him altogether, only to throw yourself into his chest; your arms winding around his neck as you pulled him into a lung flattening hug. After a startled beat, he returned the gesture, pulling you that much closer as you buried your face in the leather of his coat. “Thank you thank you thank you thank you,” you stuttered, speaking quickly enough for each word to slur into the next. “I—I just haven’t had anyone to talk to, but you’ve been so patient, and so nice to me, and I… I really don’t know what I’d do without you.” You pulled back, looking up at him. Your smile was brighter than he’d ever seen it, and Malleus took a moment to savor that he’d been the one to draw it out of you. “You’re the best, Malleus.”

“Think nothing of it.” He was tempted to pull you back, to hold you for just a few seconds longer, but you were already tearing yourself away from him, clapping your hands together as you rambled excitedly about how much fun it would be to stay in the same dorm, how much more time you could get to spend with him and Lilia, how excited you were to get to know Silver and Sebek and all the other underclassmen who liked to, in your own words, ‘bite at his ankles’. It was only when you took an over-eager step towards the rooftop’s ledge that he took you by the arm, pulling you back with an airy chuckle. “It’s gotten late,” he explained, snapping his fingers. In the blink of an eye, the two of you were standing in his dorm room, the rooftop and the night sky’s expanse left behind entirely. “Why don’t you spend the night in one of our spare rooms? I’ll make more appropriate arrangements in the morning.”

You agreed without a second thought, and as he walked you through the shadowed halls of your soon-to-be home, he decided that he’d been wrong, initially. The worst thing about you wasn’t that you’d chosen to be with him. Really, your closeness wasn’t a bad thing at all.

The worst thing about you, undeniably, was that you could still choose to be close to people who weren’t Malleus.

Thankfully, he was already taking measures to fix that.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twst #yandere twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland x reader #twst imagines #yandere malleus draconia #malleus x reader

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rafesangelita · 2 months ago

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hiii there angel i’m so happy you opened up requests again, i love your writing sm. could i plz request sheep!reader and dark!rafe? he’s super rough during sex but sheep!reader is crying and she asks him if he can be soft but he doesn’t know how so she kinda guides him? sorry if this is too specific!

warnings: dark!rafe, mean!rafe, unprotected sex, rough sex, hair pulling, slapping, groping, crying, dacryphilia, slight angst, a little bit of fluff

“raferaferafe!” you cried out, heavy teardrops rolling down your cheeks as your nails clawed the sheets for dear life. your scalp burned as rafe roughly pulled at the roots of your hair between his fingers, his jaw set tight as he dug crescents into your skin with his merciless grip. you hiccuped, reaching back to grab onto his wrist to indicate for him to slow down the pace of his thrusts. in hopes of muffling your screams, rafe pushed your face into the plush pillows beneath your head, your knees threatening to give out from under you.

he knew he was sick and deranged for getting off on your tears, each drop bringing him closer and closer to that high he desperately chased. he watched you as you tried to move away from him, your pathetic attempts deemed useless against his strength. “stop— fuckin’ moving,” he snaked a hand underneath you, wrapping his fingers around your neck before pulling you up against his chest, his cock still buried deep within your aching cunt, “do i have to bend you over my lap and remind you what happens when you try to run away from me?” he said through gritted teeth, a shiver running down your spine at the memory.

“no!” you shook your head, your voice shaky as rafe cupped both of your tits, your body molding to his touch like you were putty; soft and malleable. “it hurts too much—” you softly stroked the hand he had around your neck, prompting him to loosen his hold on you. “can we try something different?” rafe left a trail of wet kisses that went from the curve of your shoulders to the underside of your jaw, a dissatisfied grunt rumbling from his chest. he hated to be interjected on, the adam’s apple in his throat bobbing as he swallowed thickly. “no, i want you like this.” he whispered, taking your chin and forcing you to face him.

“please, just this once, ray..” you begged, hoping with all of your heart that he would, at the very least, consider what you wanted to propose. rafe blinked, his chest rising and falling as he scanned your face. “what do you want?” you nearly sighed in relief when he said the words, your teary gaze finding his in your dimly lit room. “can you be softer? i mean, like— not hit me and rough me up?” rafe almost laughed at the ridiculous request, the only thing stopping him being the fucked-out expression gracing your features. you looked absolutely spent. soft? gentle? those were two words that rafe has never been quite familiar with.

“you want me to be all sweet and shit?” he moved his hips slightly, the sudden movement sending a shockwave to your system. “y-yes, exactly that..” rafe felt uneasy at the proposition, the idea not sounding enticing to him in the slightest. “i don’t know. i don’t even think i could do that.” rafe pulled out of you with a hiss, a small gasp leaving your lips at the sudden emptiness. “yes you can! i’ll show you if you let me.” you turned around, that pleading look in your eyes slowly making his resolve crumble. rafe thought it over before ultimately deciding to just give it a try.

“fine.”

you laid down on your back, finally feeling some relief as you no longer had your knees pressed into the mattress. instinctively, rafe slotted himself between your thighs, his arms caging you in. “now what?” he quipped, looking at you expectantly. cupping his face, your eyes flickered between his own before the words ‘kiss me’ left your mouth in a hushed whisper. rafe wasted no time, instantly leaning in and taking your lips in a searing kiss, his teeth nipping your bottom lip as he did so. you pulled away as soon as he bit you, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

“you have to do it softly. no teeth.” you corrected him, your cheeks heating as he cursed under his breath. “no tongue either?!” rafe asked incredulously, slightly in disbelief. you giggled, pecking his lips. “no. just like this— the way i’m doing it.” rafe followed suit, the slowness of it all feeling completely foreign to him. it took a little bit of time, but within minutes, rafe was kissing you with featherlight touches instead of his usual bruising force, his hands staying on either sides of your head. rafe’s body weight alone provided you with a blanket of comfort unlike the way you felt when he had you on all fours.

you showed him how to caress you instead of groping and grabbing at you. rafe didn’t realize how many things you wanted to change until he was slowly rocking in and out of you, your usual sobs and screams were now soft whimpers and moans that he wished he could hear more often. the way you were looking up at him right now, like you were in pure bliss, was such a stark contrast to the way you usually looked at him; as if you were in pain and silently begging for mercy. holding him close, you stroked the nape of his neck as both of you came with a soft whisper of each other’s names.

rafe buried his face in your neck to refrain from scratching you, your tenderness pulling at his heartstrings. as much as he was above cloud nine right now, your velvety walls clenching around him and taking him for everything he had, he couldn’t help but feel a slight seed of guilt for how he’s always treated you during moments of intimacy. once you two were left panting, rafe stayed nestled inside of you as he turned you two over, wrapping his arms around your waist while you rested your tear-stained cheek on his chest. you listened to the thrum of his heart beat, your eyes fluttering in and out of sleep while rafe ran his fingertips up and down your spine.

“how about i bathe you after this? i’ve never done that, either..”

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lambcultist · 3 months ago

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letting pervy!loser!ellie touch you for the first time… inspired by this post. mdni. cw ; inexperienced!ellie, loser!ellie, perv!ellie adjacent. tit play. thigh riding. for some reason, this is longer than i intended.

subtlety was never ellie's best natural ability. no, really, it's not. walking into poles on the footpath, laughing too loud when she shouldn't—especially if it was something you said—and well, it's mainly you that voids her of subtlety. ellie isn't the wisest, and when she's crushing hard, her brain dissolves into fucking mush.

ellie's never felt so... nasty. when it comes to you, she has the most utterly insane thoughts imaginable. she's even thought about trying to steal a pair of panties out of your laundry hamper, but knew she couldn't pull it off clean enough.

when she sees something she likes, ellie can't help it. can you blame her? you had to know what you were doing to her, surely... that tank top looks like a second skin on your body, it's obvious you aren't wearing a bra either. the outlines of your nipples are prominent, the low neck of the tank revealing a fucking heavenly amount of cleavage. considering ellie's only had her imagination to go off—and she's been imagining what your body looks like naked—this is the closest she's ever got.

of course, what ellie wants to do right now is take a picture and let this last forever. but what she wants to do even more, is pin you down against the couch and take a proper look for herself. ha, as if.

this poor baby. she's been staring for so long, thinking you won't notice. of course you noticed! she's working herself up so much, shifting and squirming in her seat, trying to subtly press her hand between her thighs, and her eyes dart from the tv to your tits over and over.

it's a little tricky to decide how to act in response. she's your friend, and she just looks so worked up that you can't help feeling a little bad, almost like you owe her some for being the cause of her current issue. and she's vehemently reassured you that she's totally fine, just a little hot every time you've asked if she's alright.

"els?"

this time, when ellie looks over at you, prepared to force herself to make eye contact only, she unfortunately fails immediately. because you're holding your top up.

her face feels on fire, red filling her cheeks. she gasps upon initial reaction, but she still doesn't flinch or look away. she's practically stuck. that doesn't stop her from stammering a concerned question, though.

"how— why— would you do this?"

"oh." you tilt your head, drawing your lip between your teeth. the lip biting, your doe eyes, and your current state of indecency, it has ellie fucked over. "i just, i guess i noticed you were staring n' i felt like i owed you a look!"

"ohh." no, ellie doesn't understand you at all right now, but that doesn't make her ungrateful. she's trying not to act on pussy-whipped sentiments, but it's extremely hard. and what does she say in response? "you got.. niiiice boobs."

"thank you."

"can i..." ellie trails off, wiping her sweaty hands over her jean-clad thighs. "can i touch?"

her voice broke saying that, and she feels ridiculous. but you? you've never had a girl be genuinely nervous to touch you before.

"of course you can," you murmur, feeling warmth spread into both your face and panties. "i want you to."

"okay." you don't think you've ever heard ellie sound like this before. but she's reeling. you want her to do this. "i've never touched.. a girl before, never touched any boobs before, sorry."

"oh, reaaally?" you ask, giggling. somehow that only made your panties dampen more. "it's okay! just c'monn..."

"yeah, okay." ellie nods as if to psyche herself up, and then she moves closer to you. she makes sure, one more time, that her hands aren't clammy, before cupping your breasts.

she takes pretty firm handfuls, and her hands are shaky but so warm. ellie herself has to bite back a whimper, feeling your plushness in her palms. your skin is soft as silk. she's slow with it at first, massaging the supple flesh with slender fingers. the longer it goes on for, the more she discovers she really, really loves it.

ellie starts squeezing. she's hit gold when she brushes her thumbs over your nipples, because your entire body shivers. she lets out a shaky laugh before rolling the hardened buds beneath her callouses, watching you start to breathe a bit heavier. she experiments; pulling, tugging, pinching. she's squeezing your tits so roughly, pulling on your nipples a little too hard and yet when she does so, it makes you moan.

prettiest sound on earth. need to hear that more. ellie wants to hear that in her freaking dreams at night.

this feels like a dream altogether.

ellie doesn't really have any concept of gentle versus rough. she's plainly new to this and just a little over-excited. especially when you start to whimper. she's gone when she notices you start to rock your hips against the air, and she licks her dry lips.

"h-hey, come.. sit.. on my lap if you want..."

when you do, and ellie feels your thighs squeeze around her own, she feels her breathing speed up. she has her crush perched on her lap, grinding against her leg, and she's playing with your tits.

you drag your clothed cunt over ellie's thigh, back and forth. to hold yourself up you grab her by the shoulders and hold your top up between your teeth so ellie doesn't have to worry about a thing. you only want her to have the most perfect time manhandling your tits, so you'll be good and make sure your body is completely readily accessible to her.

"ellie, ellie!"

said girl is completely winded. she's wide-eyed, looking up at you like you aren't even real. you're squeaking out her name so sweetly, she's starting to think she won't make it. all this blood is rushing downwards and she can feel her pussy throbbing against her boxers. it feels like she's going to pass out.

"w-what's wrong?"

"nothingggggg, just keep doing that, s'feels sooo nice."

"oh! okay." honestly, ellie was also not so confident in her abilities. so to know that she is, somehow, making you feel actual pleasure? she's ecstatic. can't stop grinning so dumbly, bouncing her knee to stimulate you further.

and the way that your tits bounce right in front of her face? it's just so erotic. ellie relishes in the sounds of your weak whining, the fact that you're starting to sweat a little, and panting like a puppy.

"you're so fuckin' cute," ellie rasps, looking up at you. "you're doing so, so good."

now, ellie is no expert, her only 'training' is just the copious amounts of porn she's watched (and pretended was you and her). but she can tell you're getting close.

she also thought she'd be a little more suave with her words. she's trying so hard, yet for some reason no good dirty talk can make its way out. it's just getting stuck, as if she's really afraid to say it.

your orgasm builds up so fast. you hadn't even intended for it, but it hit you like a freight train. so hard and fast that when you cum, you pull ellie close and effectively suffocate her against your chest (by accident, of course), squeezing her tight whilst high moans and shrill gasps leave your mouth.

you slowly come down from the high, now panting into ellie's ear.

finally, she feels brave enough to speak up. that doesn't stop her voice from cracking, however, her shock evident. bless her.

"th–that's a good girl."

#.ellie #ellie willams x reader #ellie x fem reader #tlou2 x reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams x fem reader #loser!ellie #pervy!ellie

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mochinomnoms · 1 year ago

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Shrimpy Chronicles: First Mating Season

NSFW!Jade Leech x Shrimpmer!Reader X Floyd Leech

Synposis:

Maybe Floyd was being prophetic when he called you ‘Little Shrimpy’. “But I’ve noticed, you’ve been getting pudgier lately, and feverish. Do you have a mating season, amor mia? I wasn’t aware if shrimps did.” She’d been pointing out your latest symptoms of late. Sensitive, soft and plush, hot, and red-cheeked, like your body was preparing you for something. It didn’t help that the waters had been warm of late, or that your husbands had been extra attentive with your meals and treats. And their attention. Especially their attention. The gold wedding bands and pearl ring on your left ring finger probably helped with that, though.

[wc} - 6,873

[cw/tags] - afab!gn!reader, merfolk-sex, breeding kink, prehensile dicks, twins stated to have both sets of sex, double-penetration in one hole, pregancy mentioned at end

[notes] - womp womp, this is my first smut fic, pls be nice. also i cracked and am shrimp-brained i love shrimp reader so fun to write!!!!

If you had to decide between going back home, and leaving Twisted Wonderland, by this point you’d happily stay here for the rest of your days!

The gold wedding bands and pearl ring on your left ring finger probably helped with that, though. You were admiring them as your mother-in-law Narissa Leech swam to your side, her tail brushing against yours.

She was a beautiful mermaid, long and slender with an aquamarine tone to her skin, and a speckled snowflake pattern. Her eyes were a bright yellow-gold, and gleamed at you with delight.

“Mia cara nuora, whatever is going through your head? Still getting used to all this?” She gestured to your legs. Or your tail, you suppose.

You’d gotten married to the twins just two months ago, and made the commitment to become a merperson, just like them. The first second of your honeymoon consisted of you permanently becoming a merperson, gaining scarlet scales that covered your lower back and hips, clustering into your shrimp tail and white stripe from the hips to the tip of the tail. Between that and the shrimp legs on their hips and upper tail, it was quite ironic that you ended up becoming a cleaner shrimp.

Maybe Floyd was being prophetic when he called you ‘Little Shrimpy’.

“Yeah, it’s weird. Being in your own body when it wasn’t always your body. I think? I don’t know, it’s strange.” Despite never having 8 legs and a tail, they just felt surprisingly familiar and instinctual.

“Oh nuora, you’re a natural! Don’t you worry, if my sons could pick up human movements, you’ll be like a true-born merfolk.” She cooed, curling her arm around yours and tugging you along back to your home.

“But I’ve noticed, you’ve been getting pudgier lately, and feverish. Do you have a mating season, amor mia? I wasn’t aware if shrimps did.”

She’d been pointing out your latest symptoms of late. Sensitive, soft and plush, hot, and red-cheeked, like your body was preparing you for something. It didn’t help that the waters had been warm of late, or that your husbands had been extra attentive with your meals and treats. And their attention. Especially their attention.

You’d been filled with the need to be taken care of by your mates. For all intents and purposes, it seemed that you’d been given a mating season with your merform. And with how touchy your husbands had been, they were quite aware, and anticipating the start of your season.

“I think…I might.” You sheepishly admitted, embarrassed to discuss such an embarrassingly intimate fact. She seemed unbothered and content.

“Oh how lovely, I have been looking forward to the possibility of becoming a grandmother!” She giggled, delighted at the thought. “You know, morays always have such small broods, but shrimps always have plenty of fry. Will you be considering giving me plenty of grandbabies?”

You flustered and stuttered at the idea of having babies, let alone many. It wasn’t something you were discontent with, in fact the thought of making Mini Yous and Jades and Floyds.

You wonder how many times you’d have to go to give you your first. Would you be easy to knock up? Or would you need to be fucked over and over to ensure their seed took?

You had to shake your head to settle down the heat in your cheeks and belly, making you feel all sorts of ways.

“We’ll see Mama Narissa, I can’t say I’ve thought too much about it.” You lied.

Narissa laughed, twirling you around in a little dance. By the time she stopped, you were so dizzy that you couldn’t swim straight, pushing against her for support.

“Oh darling, trust me, my boys certainly have. Don’t let them rough you up too much, cara, they’ve always been insatiable!” She laughed at your darling cheeks, teasing you as she took you to the rest home.

She always swam you to your home, bringing you back from daily mother-in-law excursions. Narissa would take you out to the local town and introduce you to the folks, saying that it would be a good idea to make friends in town and start networking as the newest member of the Leech family. You were…faintly aware of the type of reputation your new family had, and while neither Jade nor Floyd cared about pushing you to maintain any sort of image.

While their sons might not care (in fact the twins seemed content to just keep you to themselves), but their parents, Narissa and Bruno Leech, did. Narissa scolded her sons when they tried to hide you away, switching shifts at work so that you’d never be alone.

It was her who insisted that you go out to town, meet with associates, and get you established in your spot in the family. The twins quickly gave in, as few could argue with the head of the Leech family.

You’d been surprised to hear that Narissa was the family head, or Donna, as you’ve heard others call her. From your conversations, Jade and Floyd had made out their father to be the one in charge, while their mother was overprotective and stayed home. While she was protective, she knew many people of various “backgrounds”, and spoke and held herself in a manner that demanded respect.

Her husband, Bruno, was much more wry and relaxed compared to her, though he’d been the main liaison between Narissa and any associates. He also liked going to the surface for meetings and outings, unlike Narissa who preferred to stay in the sea.

So, she’d been more than happy to drag her sons to work under their father, while she took you under her wing. You’d been suspicious, and felt that you could safely assume that the Leech parents were grooming you and their sons to eventually take over their positions.

You appreciated it, since it kept you busy. Plus, you got to see how people really live under the sea, or the Leeches at least. Based on how spoiled the twins were, you were a bit surprised at the lack of servants of any sorts at home, except a small school of cleaner wrasses that immediately scattered off at the wave of your mother-in-law’s hand.

The home for you and the twins was settled closer to the Rosarian reef, rather than the Northern Coral deep sea. In fact, the home was a coral bed built around a sea cave, apparently a luxurious real estate under the sea! Though, the main appeal was that it was close to a beach on one of the Queendom of Roses’s islands, which you visited to meet with Ace, Deuce, and Grim.

“Oh, Mama Narissa? Perhaps we can go up to the surface next week when we go out?” You swam into the kitchen together, the meal that Narissa had helped you prepared earlier on the counter.

“My friends are coming to the beach to visit me, I thought that you might like to meet them?”

Narissa wrinkled her nose, but smiled politely, “I’ve never been a fan of the surface, but I suppose it can’t be helped. I’d love to meet your human friends.”

She clapped her webbed hands, gesturing to the food on the counter as she twirled around in the water.

“Now, let me show you how to make this dish. The boys loved it as kids, I think you humans called it sushi on the surface. Come one!”

You two had made it home just an hour shy of your husbands’ return. Narissa was diligent in making sure you’d always be able to greet your husbands’ return with sweet words and sweeter kisses.

And they did enjoy it so, she stayed for 30 minutes to help you finish preparing the supper for the evening, then taking her leave so you could have some alone time for yourself up the remaining 30 minutes. Floyd cooed about having a cute stay at home spouse to come home too, while Jade delighted in the domesticity of it all.

But between your earlier conversation with Narissa, and the burning need growing in your abdomen, you were yearning for your husbands’ touch and love.

Narissa noticed before she left, cooing at you like she would a baby. “Oh nuora, are you alright? Maybe go lie down and rest. I’ll send a text to the boys that you’re feeling unwell.”

“Mm, okay…that be…nice…” You clumsy swam past her, clutching to the walls with your hands as she gently grabbed you by the waist. With Narissa as your guide, she helped you lay down on the love seat in the living room. You think she might’ve had a mischievous smile on her lips, but you couldn’t tell as you wearily curled into the cushions to nap.

You think you could make out her mumble something about ‘babies’ and ‘grandchildren’, but you’d passed out by the time you processed her words.

The next you woke up, there was a slender hand brushing through your hair, which still retained your color and cut from when you were human. You made out the familiar voices of Jade and Floyd, the latter right above you, as the former sounded like he was in another room.

“Mmmph, Flooyd? Isss that you?” You murmured, reaching out blindly for Floyd as you blinked the sleep out of your eyes.

“Heya, look at my little Shrimpy.” Floyd cooed, sinking down to be face level with you, pushing his forehead against yours. “Mama said you weren’t feeling great. Did you need us?”

Floyd spoke with a baby-voice, nuzzling against you with delight. The scent of salt and lemons, something you’d associated with Floyd, filled your nose as you happily sighed, throwing your arms around his neck to bury your nose against his skin. Floyd made a sound of surprise, though he immediately clutched onto you in response.

“Aw, cute! Hey Jade!” Floyd was giggling as Jade quickly swam back into the room carrying a potion in his hands. His gaze softened, seeing you curled into Floyd’s arms.

“Oh, look at our sweet pearl.” Jade sighed, smile growing as he watched you pull away from Floyd to open your arms up to him.

“Jaaaade! You’re home too! Give me a kiss~” you weren’t sure when you’d become so blunt and bold. Normally, you’re more reserved, if a bit teasing, with your affections, the twins loved making a game out of who could fluster who first. But right now? You felt…different.

Your mind felt like it was floating out of your body, watching everything happening from third-person. All of your senses felt more aware, from the sounds of the water currents outside, to the beating of your heart, to the humming of your skin. It was like you were both drunk, high, and yet neither at all.

None of that mattered, though, not when Jade so sweetly embraced you, the dark markings and freckles on his skin glowing as he teasingly peppered kisses over your flushed cheeks as Floyd did the same to the back of your neck.

“Aw, why didn’t Shrimpy ask me for a kiss too?” Floyd whined, huffing as you dragged Jade’s lips to yours. He glowed too, pretty like an aurora. He grazed the points of his teeth over your neck, making you whine and shiver.

“I’m—mmh—sorry, Floyd!” You separated from Jade to tilt your head back, moving one hand to cup Floyd’s cheek. “Kiss! Lemme kiss you!”

Floyd eagerly met your lips with enthusiasm, moving with Jade to sit on the love seat again in his lap, facing Jade.

You hadn’t been intimate since your transformation, so it was slightly embarrassing to be curled into the cushioned shell loveseat, sweaty, lascivious, and sensitive at your husbands’ touches.

Floyd hummed against your lips as he tangled his long tongue against yours, Jade busy with fluttering your chest and tummy with wet kisses.

“Darling, look at you, how messy and sweet you look! You’ve missed our touches. You’re craving them, aren’t you?”

Jade chuckled against your belly button, something you kept from being a human, and kissed it. He eyed your tummy, the skin there and the slight translucent sheen to it.

It wasn’t off-putting, not to them. Why many fish in the sea had see-through skin and muscle, allowing you to see their skeleton and organs. Yours was quite tame compared to those creatures, the rest of your body retaining either a pink or red opaque hue, with only your lower abdomen and stomach having the translucent skin.

“Of course they have Jade, they’ve gone months without their tummy bein’ filled up.” Floyd purred, moving away from your panting mouth and unfurling his tongue, dragging it down your chest to your navel. “And their body is telling them to breed. Just look at how puffy their slit is getting~”

You whined as both of them moved to direct their heady gaze to your cunt, hot and throbbing for attention. The scales around your slit had been slowly pushed to reveal lips and a clit, trembling under Jade’s hot mouth. Another whine was drawn from your throat, his tongue dragging on the skin around your lips.

Your entire body felt like it was melting, all the need and heat from this week amounting on top of you like the earth on Atlas’s shoulders. But now? It was all crashing down on you like your body had been waiting for this point. For the touches of your mates along your body, claw tipped fingers just grazing around where your hips and slit were.

It probably didn’t help that you hadn’t been touched, or touched yourself, in weeks with the confusion of a new body. Though, it seems that the twins were all too happy to help you learn mer anatomy.

“Jade! Please, I need you to touch me, lick me, drink ‘n eat me up—AH!” You shrilly gasped as he shoved his tongue in your hole, his long tongue rubbing against your walls. You arched your back at the sensation, an intoxicating spike of energy crawling up your spine. Jade drank in your juices, humming as he tapped your g-spot with the tip of his tongue.

The sensation was quickly becoming like a drug, spiking as Floyd took a long, slow and coveted lick to your clit until he reached the tip of his tongue, flicking it as he drew it away. He giggled at your yelp, staring into your eyes as he started sucking on your clit, suckling like a baby to their mother’s teat.

And he certainly was sucking the life out of you, keening as you shook from an orgasm that blended into a paralyzing stream of pleasure.

Yet, you still felt like you were missing something, as the heat in your belly hadn’t dissipated. Rather, it felt like it was getting stronger, begging for something to fill the empty void in you.

So it was helpful that neither twin cared for leaving their meal, waiting for you to either push their heads away, or for them to get bored. You of all people knew that they have a hard time getting bored from things they find interesting, and you were certainly captivating.

Their tongues worked nonstop, Jade tongue-fucking your sweet spots as Floyd made a particularly hard suck to your button, making you buck your hips against his. In fact, they seemed content to just switch places, Jade feeding on your pearl and Floyd pushing his tongue so far in that you’re sure he brushed your cervix.

Moans and cries freely left your lips, as several smaller orgasms rocked your body. Your chest heaved as you gasped, your gills filling with water. The twins giggled, Jade kissing up your body and Floyd dragging his tongue through your slit.

“Hmm, Floyd. Look at how needy they are.” Jade melted into your embrace as you wrapped your arms around him, placing wet kisses against his cheeks and lips. “How cute, who knew that they’d get so desperate when in their mating season! No wonder Mother was pushing for us to get home so quickly.”

Floyd cackled, nuzzling against your chest as he squeezed you against him. “Yeah! No wonder! Do you wanna be filled?”

“Oh, of course they do~” Jade grazed his teeth along your ear, tugging it before letting go to whisper in your ear, “They want to be bred silly! Don’t you, my love? Just ask, and I’ll fill you up over and over again. I’ll fill you up until you’re utterly full, and then eat my cum out of you just to fill you back up again~ Do you like the sound of that—ow, Floyd, that hurts.”

Floyd had reached up to pull at Jade’s strand of hair, a chittering growl reverberating through his chest as he hissed, “Don’t be selfish! They’re my mate too!”

Sleekly, Floyd slid up your body to take his place on your other side, pulling at your chin with his cheek. He let out a high-pitched whine as he did, his words muffling.

“You want me to fill you up too, right?” Floyd pouted, smacking ticklish kisses to your face and neck. “Floydie will give ya lots of baby Shrimpys! How many do you want? Two? Think we can get three in one go?”

Your body was getting hot again, and you felt empty. There was a desire to be stretched out around your husbands’ dicks.

“Ah, I want—I want,” You cried, moving your hips up, grinding against the water. “I wanna be filled! Both! I wan’ both of you in me!”

Both of them froze and shared a look, their sudden stillness making you feel upset, as you began babbling half-coherent begs and sobs.

“Aw, (Name). Don’t cry.” Floyd shushed you, rubbing his nose against yours as he smiled. “It’s not that we don’t wanna. We really, reeally wanna give you what you want!”

“Mm-hm.” Jade hummed, cupping your cheek as he drew your gaze to him. “Yes, of course we do. But you’re just a bit small, darling.”

Floyd and Jade had always been big, especially in their merforms. And even as a merperson, you didn’t even reach half of their length. There was no question that their dicks would be equally proportional.

“We don’t want to end up breaking you, love.” Jade breathlessly murmured against your ear. Though, from the heady tone of his voice and the grip he had on your hips, you were sure that was a lie.

“Unless you ask us. Then we’d be happy to.” Floyd cooed into your other ear, hand wandering down to caress your still slick slit, using your juice as lube to rub your clit. “Ask us. We’ll take real good care of ya after, we promise~”

It wasn’t even a question, more a matter of you coughing up your ‘yes’, but your voice was caught in your throat as they resumed their movements.

Jade took delight in marking up your neck with hickies and suckling your nape, his free hand squeezing your chest and slipping under your cover to pinch your nipple.

“Ah! I want—fuck!” You gasped as Jade started fondling your chest and suckling from your nipple. “Shit, Jade! Mmh!”

Between his mouth on you, and Floyd whispering sweet, arousing words into your ear, asking you, “don’t you want us to make you feel good? To fill you up?”

Jade hummed in agreement from your chest, tugging it with his teeth before resuming his sucking. You rapidly nodded your head, opening eyes that you didn’t realize were closed. Two gold eyes were watching your expressions.

Floyd continued being the prettiest devil on your shoulder. “Just say ask. Ask. And say ‘pleeeease’, say ‘Floooyd! Jaaaade! Fuck me pleeeease!’”

Mimicking your voice, Floyd made mean, mocking moans into your ear. You’d be offended if it didn’t make you hot. You’ll fuck him first, then complain later.

A pinch to your clit, and a nibble to your nip, and you were arching and walling, “GAAAH! FLOYD! JADE! FUUUCK ME! PLEEEEASE! PLEASEPLEASEPLEASPLEASEPLEASE—”

You yelped mid beg as Floyd let out his raspy laugh, picking you up in a bridal carry as he zoomed to the bedroom. He’d shoved you into the sheets, adjusting so that your head was hanging off the edge of the soft coral bed.

The taller twin settled to grind his navel and slit against yours, groaning as his cock was coaxed to slip out to your sticky opening. Jade, gently and firmly guiding your head, pushed his own softening slit to your lips, sighing as you licked around the slit.

Your own tongue dragged its entire length along Jade’s lips, the salty taste of this slick making your eyes close in bliss. It took but a few more licks for his long cock, green and pink-tipped like a flower, to come out. It followed your tongue and was easily coaxed to thrust into your mouth, prehensile and wrapping around your tongue.

It was gentle, only thrusting softly into your mouth, until it shuddered around your moaning mouth, Jade groaning from the vibrations. Floyd’s own dick had made its way out, pushing against your tight hole and slowly filling you up. You swear, it took up your entire womb with its size, rapidly thrusting and pushing against your walls with the intent to breed. Floyd seemed unaffected, beaming in delight at your muffled cries and begs as he grinded against your clit.

“Haah, Jade! Our shrimp’s pussy feels sooo good! It’s so tight and soft.” Floyd took heaving breaths as made out with you messily, groaning and giggling into your mouth. “It’s like they wanna make sure my seed fills them up~”

You cried out, muffled moans filling the air as you tried nodding in agreement. You’d tried answering against Jade’s dick, but only served to further stimulate him.

“Mmh, and it’s like they want to milk my cock. Greedy, greedy darling. You’re so—hah—lucky we love spoiling you.”

Jade thrusted harder against your mouth, the tip touching the back of your throat, making your gag and choke. Even so, you relaxed and let him face-fuck you with no remorse. It wasn’t like you needed air anymore, not with the gills on your neck.

Besides, it wasn’t Jade fucking your mouth that took the oxygen from your lungs, but way Floyd stretched you out and rubbed his own clit against yours.

“You feel that? You feel how good you're making me feel? Yeah~” Floyd purred, roughly grinding against you as he breathlessly laughed. “Making me feel all sortsa ways, like I could keep fucking his hole of mine forever~”

One of the first delights you learn before transforming was that, as eelmers, your darling husbands were built with both sets of sex, their slit hiding away their hastily growing cocks and tight openings. You wondered if you could return the favor and eat them out instead, the thought of a trembling Jade and keening Floyd as you feasted utterly delicious.

“Now Floyd, what did you say earlier?” Jade asked, pushing your hair away from your face as he kept at his meal. “Don’t be selfish! They’re my mate too!”

Jade mimicked Floyd’s pouting tone, mocking his brother with a shit-eating grin as Floyd growled, clawed hands digging into your hips and upper tail to fuck you even harder, making you bounce against the bed and Jade’s dick.

A particularly rough thrust against your cervix brought you back to the moment, Floyd’s teeth digging into your right shoulder as he suddenly came in you.

His cum was thick and filling, dripping from your hole from the sheer amount Floyd busted into you. And as Floyd pulled away, you pulled away from Jade and looked down to see inches and inches of his dick leaving your throbbing cunt. You weren’t even sure if you came with him at this point, all the euphoric bliss you’d been feeling blending in.

What you were sure of was Floyd’s length still being hard and firm, moving around his hand as he pumped it. That fact that he was still able to keep going made you ravenous as you wiggled your hips at him, hoping that Floyd would keep going.

You needed to feel fuller. You needed to take up as much cum in you as possible. You needed to be bred like a good little mate. At least until you could return the favor. (You pushed that last thought to the back of your mind, confused as to why your sex-filled brain conjured that.)

“Hey Jade.” Floyd ignored your cranky whines, you’d be filled up again soon anyway. “Switch spots with me. I wanna feel their mouth, besides, our mate is nice and tight, ‘n squeezes you juuust right~”

Floyd giggled, his signature laugh, slinking up your body as Jade snaked down, dragging his hands down your body as he did. Jade was quick to take his spot, his dick slick with his precum and your spot slipping into you with little resistance.

Both were big, but Floyd was slender and longer, whereas Jade was shorter and much thicker, stretching you out to the point that you were sure you’d be ruined for anyone else. As if you’d ever want anyone else.

Jade was ever so gentle with you, slowly pushing the tip of his cock as he used Floyd’s cum as lube, his girth filling you up deliciously. You groaned as you felt the cum in you push out of your hole to make room for Jade, until he eventually made it to the hilt. His length was pressing against your walls, swirling in you, as Jade started grinding his slit against you.

“Damn!” Jade cursed, gasping as he pressed his head against your chest, teething at the skin. “You’re right, Floyd, they feel so tight and soft against me! I could get drunk from your walls, my love~”

Obsessed as he’s always been with your chest, Jade took to occupying his mouth with your chest, back to suckling you like a baby. It was like he was opening for milk to come out and fill his insatiable tongue with your taste.

“Yeah! Can you imagine how much tighter they’ll be when we both fill them up? Haha! You’ll be begging to have our dicks in ya forever, our cute lil’ shrimp!”

Floyd, rougher than his brother, pulled at the hair in your scalp, firm but soft, and pushed his dick towards your mouth. He threw his head back, sighing as you took a long, slow lick from the tip of his cock to the base. It trembled against your tongue at the stimulation, surprising as it tried wrapping around the muscle before shoving itself into your mouth. You choked as Floyd began pistoning into your mouth, cackling as little tears dripped from your eyes.

Between his fast pumps, and Jade’s tortuously slow thrusts, you were slowly being driven insane.

“Ngh, d-did you just cum again?” Jade stuttered, pulling away from your teat with a string of saliva connecting you two. “I felt it…I’m close, you know. Mmmph…Want me to fill you up again my love?”

“Mmmm! Mmmphmm!” You cried against Floyd’s dick, tongue massaging his length as you sucked. You’d managed to keep rolling your hips against Jade, the stinging effects of overstimulation starting to take hold.

“Ha! I think they want it Jade~” Floyd cackled, finally shoving your face against his groin, forcing you to swallow around his dick. “Give it to ‘em, if our shrimp wants us to breed them, then we oughta make them happy~”

A chilling growl left Jade’s mouth as he clenched his teeth into your left shoulder, near the crook of your neck as his prehensile dick pounded into, practically fucking your womb, like it wanted to nestle in and never leave.

Your tummy felt hot as Jade filled you up, finally moving your head away from Floyd to cough and gasp at the feeling. Managing to lift your head, you saw a bulge on your stomach where Jade was filling you up with his own cum, right along Floyd’s.

“Aha, I’m so full!” You moaned, giggling deliriously, all thoughts from your head fucked out, as you rubbed the bulge. “It feels so goooood~”

The heat coursing through your veins has dissipated quite a bit, now a comfortable hum and tingling on your skin instead of an insatiable need to get fucked. You beamed as Jade, still in you, leaned down to kiss you sweetly, his hands cradling your face as he nipped your nose.

“We’re glad, aren’t we Floyd?” Jade purred, grinning down at you with a hungry look still. You made a noise of confusion as he moved away, rolling to his side. Whimpering as a few inches of his length slid out as he did, but he stopped, keeping most of it in. Looking down, you could make out the pearlescent cum of your husbands leaking out of you, thick and viscous.

“Hmm, yeah.” Floyd sighed, tracing along your pudgy tummy, briefly squeezing down to watch more cum leak from your hole. “Let’s fill them up even more!”

“Huh?” You pushed yourself up on your elbows, blinking rapidly as Floyd took your otherside and positioned his dick against your still stretched out cunt.

“You said you wanted both of us in you, right?” Floyd started pushing, long tongue licking over your cheek, down your neck, and slathering over the bite he made. “You wanted both of us at once. We’re giving you what you want.”

Your brain function was still yet to completely return, as you barely managed to process his words at the last second. “Wait, wha—AAAAH!”

Your hands went flying up to their hair as Floyd pushed in against his walls and Jade’s dick, stretching you beyond comprehension. Pulling at their teal strands, you could hear both of them ominously chuckle, Floyd’s hand going back down to your nub as Jade’s lips made their way home to your chest to feed.

“Fuck! Too much! Too much! Aaaaahahaha!” You gasped, laughing as the heat returned to your belly as your eyes glazed over. “Ooooooh shit! F-floyd, Jaaade…uwwwaaah…”

Throwing your head back, you started letting out open-mouthed moans, blubbering as you started speaking nonsense to your mates. Any coherent thought was yanked from your brain and tossed out like garbage as they started moving in you, lengths pushing up against all your most deliciously sensitive spots, tips hitting your cervix like they were fighting to take up the space in your womb first.

“Aahaha! Look at you! Fucked stupid~” Floyd lovingly nuzzled against your temple, kissing your forehead as he continued his mean words. “Do ya like it? You gonna cum again? Cum as much as you want~ Only we can make you feel this good~”

Floyd cackled again, bringing your head back up to make out with your drooling mouth, his tongue tangling with yours.

“Mmm, morays can go for hours you know,” Jade cooed, cheeks flustered and eyes drunk on your body as he flicked your nipple with the tip of his tongue. “Do you want us to keep going? Use you? Make sure our little mate is filled with plenty of seed for their eggs? Do you want to keep getting fucked~”

“Yesh!” You cried, muffled against Floyd’s sloppy kiss. “Fuck me more! I wa-wanna feel your cocks here!”

You placed your hand over your navel, feeling the bumps of their dicks as they pounded against your insides. Pulling away from a whining Floyd, you looked down at your belly, and gasped at the sight.

You could just barely make out the blue, glowing lines on their dicks as they moved in you, the outline just visible under the transparent skin of your belly. You could even make out the pearly white sheen of their cum filling you up under the skin. The sight shocked you into coming, tossing your head back as you panted for oxygen.

“Sho good! It feelsh shooo good! Don’t stoooooop~” You were slurring as you bawled your eyes out, shaking as you came once again for the nth time that night. Yet they didn’t stop, not from your overstimulated tears, nor your walls tightening against them.

“Floyd! Jade!” You gasped, your insides feeling raw and like they were burning, finally being pushed past your limits. “W-wait, I can’t…I just…I just came—FUCK!”

Your husbands pulled you up, wrapping their tails around yours and each other to be closer to you, as Jade forced you to look down at your extending belly and their lengths moving in and out. As soon as one slipped out, the other thrusted in, ensuring you were never empty. Unfortunately, as they did, more of their cum was slipping out as well, making Floyd whine.

“Aw, Jade! Look at how our Shrimpy is wasting our seed!” Floyd pulled on your ear with his sharp teeth, playfully chittering in your ear.

Jade clicked his tongue in disappointment, bumping his forehead against yours, “How wasteful, we’ll just have to go a few more hours then, to make sure our seed takes. Can you handle it, my love? You can, can’t you?”

You blinked open your eyes, the algae lamp on the nightstand providing a dim blue light to the room. Yawning, you tried stretching your arms, wincing at the pain that shot up from your lower back.

“Mmh? (Name)? You wanna go again?” you heard Floyd sleepily giggle to himself, spooning against your back as his tail was wrapped around your fins. “Kinda tired, but I’ll go again for my shrimp, hehe~”

You reached a hand over to pinch his nose, grumbling, “Stop it, you know exactly what yawning is.”

Floyd pouted, digging his head against your back again as he tightened his grip. From your front, Jade groaned at the movement as he nuzzled his head against your chest, arms gripping your midsection and tail tightly wrapped around your hips. At this moment, you were just a body pillow to him.

“Stop moving…it’s still early…” Jade mumbled into your skin, nipping at it briefly. “...Want to…sleep.”

“Nah, I’m awake now. I wanna eat somethin’, wanna come to the kitchen?” Floyd asked, kissing his bite mark on your shoulder as he did. He untangled himself from you, stretching and wincing from the scratches you made on his shoulders stung.

You tried moving, but felt a cramp in your hips and pelvis as you did. Between that, and Jade’s displeased growl as he tightened his grip, you were trapped.

“I don’t think I can move…you guys did a number on me.” You were just noticing your entire torso and navel covered in hickies and bruises, the most prominent being the hand marks on your hips.

“Heh, nice. Oof!” Floyd grunted as you threw a pillow at him. You had half a mind to smother Jade too as you felt him smirk and chuckle into your skin. Unfortunately for you (and fortunately for him), there was a cheery knock at the front door.

(Or the frame of your front door. Homes under the sea didn’t have doors, though you had a rather intricately designed curtain over the entrance for privacy).

“I miei figli! It’s been a few weeks now! Can I see mia nuora?”

Since your mating season started, you’d been going at it nearly nonstop with the twins the first week until your libido managed to die down to a more reasonable amount. Granted, at least one of the twins was with you at all hours as they took turns going to work. This week, you’d taken to just resting your incredibly sore body. Nearly 5 days since you were last fucked, and you were still wincing as you swam.

Unfortunately, Narissa missed you just a bit too much to wait a few more days to see you.

“Oh my god, Mama Narissa!” You bolted up, Jade grumbling as he let you untangle from his grasp. He settled for grabbing your pillow and shoving his face in it to drink in your scent. “Shit, has it really been weeks?”

“Mm-hm,” Jade hummed, finally opening his eyes to look at you. He was never a morning person, surprisingly, so it took him sometime before he was fully coherent. “You were insatiable the last few weeks…begging to make sure you stayed filled up. I was surprised at how long you lasted between rounds.”

Jade rubbed a hand against your belly, staring at it intently as he slow blinked, ready to fall back asleep at any moment.

“...It’s twins.” He said, very matter-of-factly. You blinked in confusion, but smiled at the idea.

You covered your hand over his, lacing your fingers together as you shrugged and smiled. “You think? Humans usually have just one, but I’ve also never had a mating season, so I don’t know.”

“Hm, it is.”

You blinked again, staring at Jade as he lovingly smiled at the bump on your stomach. Shrugging again, you pushed his bangs back and pressed a kiss to his forehead, making the effort to trudge through the pain and swim out to greet your mother-in-law. You sharply inhaled as you tried straightening your tail, feeling like your muscles were being pulled.

“Ah!” You hissed, rubbing your lower back as Jade perked, getting up and letting you wrap your arms around his shoulders as he carried you on his back.

“Here, I’ll take you.” Jade rubbed his eye, now fairly awake as he blissfully took you through the hallway into the living room, then the kitchen as you heard voices coming from there.

“It’s been weeks! I just wanna see my nuora too, especially since neither of you have been at work at once for nearly a month!” You could make out Papa Leech’s, Bruno’s, raspy voice from the kitchen.

“Oh relax, amore mio!” Narissa purred, kissing her husband’s cheeks as he visibly softened. He was stocky, built much like his sons, but much longer and covered in old scars. He was also a darker, muted shade of green, his eyes hazel and hair a familiar shade of black. You could look at Bruno and obviously see the resemblance between his sons and him.

“They’re fine! Look there, they are with Jade now.” Narissa chirped, swimming past Floyd to ruffle his hair as he tossed a scallop in his mouth. “Save some for your mate, Floyd. I’m sure they’re starving.

Floyd looked offended at the suggestion, replying with a full mouth, “We’ph kefft ‘em fed!”

Narissa scolded him for speaking with a full mouth as Bruno excitedly made his way to you, snatching you from Jade, who made an annoyed hiss, and twirled you around. He squeezed you in a bone-crushing hug as he spoke.

“There you are! Our family shrimp! Don’t be mad at me now, but you’ve kept the boys plenty busy! I’m gonna need to steal them back, why don’t you and Nari go—”

You yelped as four pairs of arms snatched you back from Bruno’s embrace, a hair-raising growl and clacking of Floyd’s jaws echoing in the kitchen. Floyd was holding you between him and Jade, the latter protectively curled over your stomach as he eyed his own father.

Bruno looked less than amused, rolling his eyes as he clacked his own pharyngeal jaws in response.

“Just playing ‘round with mia nuora, what’s wrong with you two?! Hissing at your own father?!” He snapped, briefly looking at Narissa as she turned his face to hers.

She had a smile on her face, gold eyes locking on Jade’s hands covering you.

“Amore, you need to be careful with (Name)! Of course, they’re hissing at you, you’re roughhousing with a berried mate!”

Berried?

“W-what? What’s that mean?” You asked, confused as Bruno immediately brightened, rapidly sinking to the ground to be at eye level with your stomach. Narissa gracefully followed, as did your husbands, now relaxed.

“It means our Shrimpy is gonna have baby Shrimpies.” Floyd giggled as Jade reached up to direct your gaze to your translucent tummy.

“See, my love? The eggs look like berries.” Jade tapped a finger against your slightly protruding stomach, right where you could make out the sight of two teal colored eggs.

You gasped, placing your hand over Jade and Floyd’s. Effectively stunned into silence, Bruno had more than enough energy to loudly celebrate for all five of you.

“WHOOP! NONNINO! I’M GOING TO BE A NONNINO!” Bruno excitedly swam around in circles, twisting and twirling around as Floyd darted to his father’s side, following his dance in happiness.

Jade chuckled, giving his mother a knowing look as they both straightened back up, moving to nip at your ear affectionately.

“I suppose we should let everyone else know the good news.”

You nodded in a daze, the thought of letting your adoptive parents up on the surface of the news dizzying.

“Yeah…” You finally smiled, breathlessly laughing into Jade’s shoulder as you reached for Floyd, who immediately met your embrace, nearly knocking you into Jade’s arms in excitement.

Between the rings on your left-hand ring finger, and the two eggs in your stomach, it was no question: you’re happy to stay in Twisted Wonderland for the rest of your days.

comments and reblogs appreciated 🩷

#mochi asks #twst #twisted wonderland #jade leech #floyd leech #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #jade leech x reader #floyd leech x reader #jade leech smut #floyd leech smut #jade leech x reader x floyd leech #twst jade x reader x twst floyd #shrimpy chronicles

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lostinlovingrevery · 5 months ago

Text

Beauty (18+)

Worst! Wolverine X Plus sized! Reader

Plot: You're a curvy girl, and a passing comment said to Logan pisses him off, leading him to show you just how beautiful he thought you were, as well as make sure you believe it too.

A/N: Don't look at me.

Warnings: Smut, a lot of smut, this whole thing is almost smut. PiV, unprotected sex, creampie, Reader is curvy/plus sized and described with stretch marks and large breasts and a belly, Logan is a a total dom but he's sweet about it, and sometimes a lil mean. Oral, (f! recieving), body worship and praise, logan gets a lil feral in the end, MDNI. I wrote this with Worst! Wolverine in mind, but honestly you could probably imagine any Logan. NOT proofread. I can't reread this filth.

Word Count: 3972

You and Logan were snuggling on the couch of your apartment. You were wearing one of his shirts, which was just a tad too big on your curvy body and you loved that. You both were spooning in a sitting position, with Logan behind you, his strong arms wrapped around you, as you both were focused on the tv, watching some old Clint Eastwood western flick that Logan seemed to enjoy.

You were enjoying the quiet time you were spending together, even if you really couldn’t find yourself to get into the old movie. Logan's arms moved around you, and you felt his hands move to your belly, lifting up your (his) shirt up, where he then grabbed at the folds of your stomach, kneading and squishing at them. It was something Logan had done before, and you never truly minded before, but for some reason it was annoying today.

“Lo, knock it off, It’s not funny.” You muttered, grabbing his hands to pull them off you. Alas, he was stronger than you, and he refused to allow his hands to be removed from something he considered his.

“Funny?” He whispers slowly in your ear, “Who said anything about being funny?”

You frowned, looking down at where his hands gripped at the plush of your belly. You were a bigger girl, you always have been most of your life. ‘Plus-sized’, ‘curvy’, whatever title you want to put on it, it's just how your body type was. You had large breasts, a soft round belly with faint stretch marks stretched across your skin, accompanied by love handles on your hips, your thighs, big and strong- enough to crush a man's head if you so desired. Not that you ever called it that, but your slightly insane, undiagnosed ADHD, loud, obnoxious, best friend, and neighbor Wade Wilson, who was the very person to introduce you to Logan, had described your thighs that way during a drunken game of UNO. You guys hadn’t even been on the topic of your body; much less anybody's body. Wade just blurted it out. You have come a long way in growing your confidence and loving yourself for who you are, not just your body, but your whole person. It didn’t mean you didn’t have your bad days though. Days where you can’t look at yourself in the mirror and cover yourself with large clothing to hide any trace of fat you carry.

“You just don’t need to be squeezing everything and making it obvious.” You muttered, dropping your hands from his wrists in annoyance. You didn’t know why you were being so moody over it.

Normally you enjoyed Logan touching you. Ever since you guys got together, Logan was always all over you, you don’t remember a moment where he didn’t have an arm around your shoulder, holding your hand, his hand resting on your thigh- and during the more private moments where you two were alone, he always was feeling you up, groping your breasts or ass, coming up behind you to hug you- and to rub his clothed dick against you so you could feel just how hard you make him. For some people, Logan’s constant need for physical touch may be annoying, but rarely have you ever found yourself pushing him away. It made you feel desired, especially when you had spent most of your life not feeling said desire.

“I’m just touching what I love, baby.” He purred, leaning down and kissing along your shoulder, catching your grumpy tone. It should warm your heart, the way he expresses his love for you, but it only makes you feel moodier.

“What is there to love?” You muttered under your breath, frowning. Logan's hands stopped his attack on your belly, and it suddenly hit you that you may have made a mistake saying that outloud.

When you met Logan, to say you were immediately captivated by him is an understatement. Wade had introduced you, a “brother from another timeline” he described him as. Another one of Wade's adventures that you’ve learned to tune out because you always ended up more confused by the end of his tales. You immediately liked Logan, not just for his handsome face and hard muscles- though it certainly helped; but because of his way he seemed to be trying so hard to make things better for himself, to make positive changes and be a good man. He was always extra gentle when he talked to you, he made you feel seen and you with him as well. The crush you had on him developed quickly and you honestly never thought a man like him would give you a second glance. He was a superhero, he had a complicated life, thought battles you could never imagine. Guys like him don’t date girls like you, they date…other superheros. Women who were powerful, who sported thin and toned bodies. You were merely a humble lady, living your day to day life.

To your surprise though, Logan did like you. Now you’ve been together for a few months and you couldn’t be happier, save for the occasional struggles you both endure, you’ve found a way to overcome them together, and you could always appreciate how Logan, still being true to himself- still always tries.

“Excuse me?” Logan's voice rose, as he moved to sit up and stare down at you, hard. You felt yourself cower under his stare, now unsure of what to say.

“Well…” You tried to speak, swallowing a bit of air as you looked away. His hand came up, grabbing your jaw and forcing you to look at him- the display of dominance immediately made you feel that warm wetness coat the area between your legs.

“Are you doubting me, princess?” He says. “You think there ain’t nothing to love about you?” His eyes looked dark, and you saw that familiar lustful look flash in them.

“I…I didn’t say that.” You say nervously. His fingers pressed into the skin of your jaw, gripping you tight as his eyes trailed over your face.

“I think you did.” He says. “Maybe it’s time to teach you a lesson about what I love about you-” he leaned, his lips brushing against your ear. “-and you’re going to fucking learn and take it like a good girl.”

You gasped, when he let go of your jaw, shoving you down onto the couch, manipulating your body so you were on your back, as he placed himself between your thighs. He pressed himself against your clothed groin, and you could feel his length through his sweats- long and hard.

“Should give you an idea of what you do to me.” He mutters as he grinds against you, making you squirm as you reach to grab his biceps. “Uh-uh-” He grabbed your wrists with both his hands, roughly pulling them above your head. “No touching until I tell you. You’re gonna sit, and pay attention.”

“Logan-”

He grabbed your face with his large hand, his fingers and his thumb pressing into your squishy cheeks, making your lips pucker up as he squeezed, not hard enough to hurt. He leaned in, lips brushing over yours. “No. No arguments. You've pissed me off with that bullshit coming out of your mouth. I’m gonna take care of you, and make sure you ain’t never fucking doubt yourself- or me again, got it?”

You swallowed, before nodding as you stared up at him with wide eyes. Your nerves were alight, and you could feel your clit practically throbbing- begging for attention as Logan pressed himself against your legs. He kept hold of your wrists in one hand, while his other moved to your (his) shirt, roughly pulling it up, exposing your breasts and belly.

“Fuck.” He groaned as his eyes took in your curvy figure. He didn’t know what or why you didn’t like it about yourself, why that when you looked in a mirror on your bad days, you pulled and squeezed the fat of your skin as if it was a bad thing. It could be farther from the truth. Logan looked at you and saw a fucking goddess. He loved the way your tits jiggled with every movement, round and soft, hypnotizing him and making him look like he was the biggest pervert when he couldn’t help but stare at them, whether you were alone or in public, but it’s not his fault, they’re just so loveable. He loved how your body curved, from your waist to your hips, with that plush belly of yours- that he’d rest his head on when you guys snuggled, making him feel like he was in the safest place on Earth, feeling the rise and fall of your breathing. Kneading at your belly was a comfort to him, it grounded him to where you both were in that moment, feeling you underneath him, living and breathing, soft and warm. You don’t know the countless nights he’d spent alone for years, craving for any ounce of love, and it would break your heart if he told you that.

He bit his lip, as he brought one hand to your tit, slowly groping and squeezing it, giving it a little shake, before softly smacking at it- making you whimper. He grinned devilishly, as his hand took in the softness of it, the way it filled his large hand perfectly. He leaned down, sticking his tongue out and slowly running circles against your nipple, quickly making it hard, before he nipped at it.. You squirm underneath him, desperate for more, but he was taking his time, savoring every inch of your breasts, giving each the same amount of attention as he fondled them. “Love these fucking things. Love that you let me play with them whenever I want.” He groaned as he licked a nipple, making you arch your back into him.

Your face was burning hot, your cheeks flushed pink, and you felt breathless already by the worship he committed to your tits. By the time he was finished with them, they were covered in bite marks, hickeys, and spit slicked. You had a burning between your thighs desperate for him to touch, but he wasn’t there yet. He looked up at you, your eyes pleading with him to get on with it, but he grinned, something borderline evil and perverted. Letting go of your wrists, he grabbed both your hands, placing them over your breasts.

“Go on baby, play with me. See how fun it is.” He purred. You swallowed a gasp, becoming embarrassed by his words and how he was making you touch yourself. His large hands over yours led you, making you grip your breasts, moving them in slow circles, until he used his fingers, interlocked with yours, making you rub circles onto your nipples, further pushing them into overstimulation as you gasped and whined, wanting to stop, but the longer he made you go on- the better it felt. “See princess? See why I like them so much?”

You swallowed hard and nodded, he hummed, leaning down to peck your lips before sitting back up. He let go of your hands, “keep playing with em baby.” He coos, as his hands begin sliding up and down your sides, as he squeezed and pinched your chub. You nodded, following his orders and continued fondling your tits. He clicked his tongue. “I don’t get how you couldn’t like this.” He says, shaking his head. “Drives me insane, ‘specially when you wear those tight ass shirts, I can see all your beautiful curves.” he purred. His large hands moved over your belly, squeezing the skin together to make rolls, “So fucking soft bub..” He leaned down, pressing kisses all over your belly while he kneaded at them, like a cat on a warm blanket. His lips pressed against each of your belly, from your midsection, down to your pelvis. He took his time, making sure you felt each flutter of his lips against your skin, before he switched to biting you, taking you between his teeth and sucking your skin against his tongue. You yelped the first time he did it- surprised after he had committed such gentle touches to your skin. His hands slide over your sides, to your back and down to your ass, where he began squeezing at the large flesh there.

Logan hadn’t even made you cum yet, but you felt like you were on cloud 9. Each touch, squeeze, pinch, the press of his lips, the sting of his teeth, made you feel otherworldly, alongside with his sweet words of worship, making every bad thought you had of your body fly out of your mind. How could you when the man was making you feel so much pleasure in your skin, even when he hadn’t fucked you yet?

“Cmon, cop a feel.” He urges, motioning to your belly. You swallowed, sliding your hands off your breasts, and over your belly. Embarrassment began to creep in as you felt his eyes watching you, knowing if you didn’t do what he wanted you most certainly were going to pay for it. You knew what he wanted you to do, as you began to press and slide your hands all over yourself, softly and sensually- touching yourself- feeling yourself, and you began to see just what Logan was talking about. You were soft, there was a comfort in feeling your skin underneath your hands, something grounding you in this moment.

Logan smiled warmly down at you, before he lowered himself down farther, his hands still cupping your ass, he pressed his nose against your cloth mound, taking a deep inhale to make you gasp. “Goddamn, you smell so fucking good. You’re soaked too.” He mutters, his tongue coming out to lick your soaked panties. He let out a hard and deep groan that sent shivers at your spin. Turning his head, he began licking and nipping at your inner thighs, his hands sensually rubbing over your thighs and ass. He pressed his cheek against your inner thigh, closing his eyes as he continued to take deep inhales of your scent. His scruffy beard scratched at your skin, but it only added to the pleasure of his touch. You so badly wanted to reach out, curl your fingers into his hair, to tug at them and push him against your pussy, where you so desperately needed him. Nonetheless, you waited, knowing he’ll give you what you want soon.

He moved from your thigh, making eye contact with you as he moved forward up to bite the hem of your panties, he slowly pulled them down your legs, pushing your legs up with him as he sat up to fully tear off your panties, not breaking eye contact once. The whole action made you giggle, as sensual as it was. He grinned, dropping that dominant demeanor for a moment,

“You liked that baby?” He asks and you laugh again, unsure of how to answer it. It only told him that yes, yes you did. He hums, he grabs your hand again, bringing it down to your now bare cunt. “Good. Now I want you to feel how good this pretty pussy is.”

Your breath hitched. The mouth on this man was unbelievable.

“Go on princess.” He says, watching as you slowly dip your fingers into your wet folds, sliding them through, giving you much needed relief as your head tipped back onto the couch. “That's it.” He growled slowly, his eyes watching how you move your hands, and you could hear the need in his voice. You looked up and could see the desire on his face, how much he was holding back. It was a look that always came across his face when you guys were together. You still remember the first time, he was like an animal and fucked you within an inch of your life, learning afterwards that it had been quite a long time for him, and you apparently drove him insane anyway.

He grabbed your hand once you got your fingers soaked to his desire, and brought it to his mouth, sucking on your fingers with a groan, before leaning down over you and kissing you with tongue. “Taste how good you are?” He murmured against your lips. You let out a small whimper,

“Lo- please-” You muttered, raising your hips to grind against his crotch. He grinned. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his lap, before he fell down onto his back now, and his hands urged you upwards. “Lo-?”

“Cmon,” He smacked your ass, making you yelp. “Get up here.”

“What- No-” You stammered, realizing what he wanted.

“I don’t recall asking sweetheart.” He says gruffly, “Get the fuck on my face, now.”

Anyone else, you would’ve smacked them for talking to you like that. Logan though, you’d gladly listen. And you did.

You moved on top of his face, anxiety swelling you over your weight on him.

“Lo, what if I suffocate you?”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way- fuck, she’s just drooling for me, ain’t she?” He groans, eyes trailing over your wet pussy. “Plus, I can’t die. Now get down here.”

“I-”

His hands grabbed your hips, and shoved you down onto his face, his tongue swiping between your folds. It elicited a squeal of surprise from you, and you could feel him chuckling as he practically drank in your essence. His hands encouraged you to move your hips, and you obliged, riding his face. You could feel his beard scratching your thighs, his nose would rub against your clit as his tongue fit inside your pulsing hole, sending waves of ecstasy through you.

“Getting close bub?” You heard him say, and you felt his fingers tease the entrance of your cunt, and you nodded, your hands gripping the arm of the couch and you kept riding against his face. “Tell me you’re beautiful.” He says, teasing your entrance, while he licked a long stripe across your folds to your clit.

“Baby-” You whined.

“Do it,” he growled. “Or I'm not gonna let you cum.”

“Logan!” You moaned in reply, desperate to reach your peak.

“I didn’t tell you to say my name darling, as pretty as it sounds coming out of your mouth.”

You gasped as you felt one finger going inside, as he curled it, before taking your swollen bud in his mouth and sucking. Your nails dug into the arm of the couch, as you will yourself to do what he says. He brought another finger inside you, stretching you out, before thrusting in and out at a fast pace- leaving your thighs shaking.

“I- I-” You stammered. “I’m beautiful- oh!”

He continued his relentless pace, as you could feel him becoming more and more desperate for your release.

“I’m beautiful-” You say again, and the tight feeling finally snaps, as your release floods his face, waves of tight pleasure overran your body, causing you to completely freeze, before you go slack, trying to push yourself off his face- but his hands instead kept you there, as he licked the mess from between your legs, pushing you to the edge of overstimulation. “Lo- I can’t-” Your hand went to his head, in an attempt to push him off but instead you heard a growl, and before you knew it you were on your back again, Logan still in between your legs.

“I'll tell you when you’re done.” He says roughly. He sat up on his knees, “You looked beautiful like that sugar, but honestly I don’t think you meant it when you said you were beautiful.”

You were panting, trembling underneath him, and honestly you weren’t sure if you could take more.

“Cmon baby.” He muttered. He pulled you down towards him, as he slipped down his sweats. Your eyes trailed from his hair, to that thick vein traveling down to his hard length. It didn’t matter how often you saw Logan naked, full erect- it still shocked you by just how delicious his cock looked every time. You felt your mouth water. He took his member in hand, the red swollen and covered in pre-cum, as he moved down to rub between your folds, bumping against your clit and making you moan.

“Lo please-” You reached out for him, and he allowed you to press your hands on his chest. Every slick thrust in your folds made your body jump, overstimulating you as you felt your pleasure build once more.

“I want you to tell me every beautiful part of yourself, body and soul. Then I’ll give you what you want.”

You felt heat rushing on your face. “I…I don’t know what to say-”

“Sure you do baby.” He groans. “Cmon, tell me. I’m fucking hurting over here.”

You gasped, as you searched your foggy mind.

“My...Stretch marks.” You manage. He grinned,

“Keep going.” He pushes, still thrusting his length through your folds, eliciting wet and slick noises through the room.

“My thighs.”

“Fuck yeah.”

You continued listing several more things about your body that you truly did like about yourself. It was then, he finally graced with the pleasure, slowly pushing his swollen tip into your hole- making you cry out.

“You were a good princess.” He muttered. “Sit back and enjoy, I’ll take care of you.”

He thrusted, bottoming out inside you, before leaning over you, hands on either side of your head. His whole body practically enveloped you, as he began thrusting in and out, a slow pace at first, allowing you to adjust to his cock, before he picked up speed, grunting with each thrust.

Your legs and arms wrapped around his large body, as you felt the muscles of his back tighten and ripple under you. You remember the first time you saw him shirtless and ashamedly gawked at him. You’d never seen a man so magnificently sculptured the way he was, perhaps that what led you to be so self conscious of your body- not because of him making you feel that way, but your thoughts led you to believe someone like you could never deserve him. Logan, of course, proves you wrong every day.

“You’re so fucking tight, I can feel you squeezing around me doll.” He groaned as he continued his endless thrusts, sending you careening as you arch your back into him. He moved to capture your lips in a messy kiss, biting your bottom lip almost hard enough to bleed, before dragging his tongue across it to soothe the sting.

“Oh- don’t stop!” You whimpered. Your hips began to pick up his relentless pace, and he kept going until he grabbed your hips, pinning them to the couch, and fucked into you hard and fast. It felt like you were being used as a sex toy for his pleasure, as he tipped his head back, growling and grunting- almost animalistic. His hair was a mess, his teeth bared and his face scrunched in concentration.

The tight rope in your belly snapped, and waves of pleasure ran over you- almost painfully, as you squeezed around his length tight, making him grunt, now just rutting into you, his hips grinding against yours, and fucking you through your orgasm. His hips snapped back one more time, before thrusting up into you and spilling his warm release inside, you could feel him twitching inside you, as he grinded against you, spurting out every last bit of his release inside you, before carefully pulling out. His face collapsed into your chest, as you both painted, attempting to catch your breath, your skin sweaty and flushed.

He looked up at you, mouth slightly open, and eyes full of devotion and you smiled, bringing your hands up to cup his face.

“You’re so beautiful.”

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #wolverine #logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett x you #logan howlett smut #worst wolverine #w!wolverine x reader #wolverine smut #logan howlett fic #vans daydreams #this was a bit self indulgent

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