#sub hsr

[livelaughlovesubs]

I think fucking someone and being a little (very) rough with them is really hot, to the point they feel like you were just using their body for your own entertainment.

But then the moment you both are done, just hug them tightly and whisper sweet praises into their ears, placing soft kisses on their face as you make them feel so loved they cringe is even hotter.

[kisakis-boyfriend]

could i get one wholr alphabet for boothill perhaps ? congrats as well !

Author's Note: Thank you!! One Boothill for ya, partner!

For our 3000 follower celebration! (CLOSED NOW)

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Very thoughtful after sex, even if you pounded him so hard that he feels like his circuits are fried. Boothill likes to play with your hair while you're calming down, and he'll hum a little tune sometimes too.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

It's hard to say, but I think Boothill would be proud of his entire body?

Of yours, I feel like he would find your back and tummy attractive.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically)

Boothill can no longer produce his own semen, but he can use artificial cum substitutes! I'm sure if he played around with his body enough, he could probably figure out how to gain complete control over exactly when and how much he can ejaculate too 🤤

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Boothill secretly wishes that he could cockwarm you more often. It doesn't matter what you do while you're inside of his tight hole, he just wants to feel connected to you for a couple hours, even if you do it while you nap and he recharges.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

While he's never had any practical experience, he knows what to expect for the most part. Doesn't stop him from getting a bit shy though.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. May include a visual)

You're probably expecting me to say cowgirl… but actually Boothill prefers missionary. It seems basic, but he just likes the intimate feel and face-to-face position.

He won't say no to cowgirl if you promise to hold hands though. :P

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

The cyborg isn't afraid to joke around, but I think he'd make you laugh without even trying due to his unique swearing… it's hard not to chuckle when your balls are slapping against his ass, he's moaning like a whore, and then all you hear is "Fork me harder!" 😐 god forbid he blurt out "holy forkironi!" during sex…

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Unfortunately, he's hairless 😔 It's all smooth metal down there.

I believe that human Boothill would have a thick bush though… just saying.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect)

I think he would be very sweet and romantic, and he would appreciate a partner that's much the same.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Not a chronic masturbator, but Boothill definitely experiments with himself since cyborg parts are so varied and have the potential to be quite fun. I do think he would enjoy touching himself for you too, stroking or fingering himself… or both at once.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Wire play, spitting, heavy d/s dynamics (if that's considered a kink?), and probably hair pulling.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

He prefers private spaces, but if you end up fucking in a public restroom somewhere, he's not going to be disappointed. Again, he's on the run. Sometimes you just don't have the luxury of a bedroom or a door that locks. Country boys make do~

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Grabbing his hips even innocently does the trick without fail. Kissing can also get Boothill turned on rather easily.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Using a knife (or anything sharp) inside his body, near his wiring or sensitive circuits.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

No preference, honestly. Oral is fun for him either way. Having his cheeks stuffed so full of your cock that his eyes cross, and crying your praises while you slurp his pussy or suck his soul out through his dick are equally as amazing. And Boothill is very skilled at giving head, just fyi~

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

I'd say Boothill prefers a faster pace, but not always rough necessarily. There are times when watching your cock slowly pull out of his hole, then suddenly slam back inside, turns him on immensely 🥴

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

An occasional quickie is good. Especially since he's always on the run, but you better make time for romantic sexy times too 😡

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Sometimes, yes. Trying new things with you often turns out very rewarding. As long as you're not doing anything that could truly endanger either one of you, then Boothill is game.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last)

That entirely depends on when you have sex and how long it's been since Boothill has recharged. If he's at full energy, then he can probably last a while and go for multiple rounds. Otherwise you may have to stop after one round.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Oh, yes. Boothill has a pretty large collection of toys, both common ones and specialty toys that he made himself for his unique body.

Technically, the interchangeable parts that he can install down there count as toys too; so, different dick attachments, pussy attachments, vibrating parts, even some things modeled after inhuman genitalia. Of course, he also owns normal dildos, vibes, fleshlights, etc etc. And yes, he definitely puts every last one to work/lets you use them on him.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Boothill is a bit of a flirtatious tease. He can figure out a few ways to get you going in a situation where you really shouldn't get turned on…

I can also picture him (in a slightly dominant display) riding you nice and slow, showing you how tightly his body grips your cock, and keeping that pace fast enough to make you feel good, but not enough to let you cum.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He's definitely on the noisy side, making lots of grunts and calling you pet names throughout. A vocal bottom who has zero restraint in the bedroom/in private.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Boothill loves when you play with the wires inside of his chest cavity. Everything is so damn sensitive in there, and your soft human fingers feel heavenly when they caress the inside of his metal body and stroke the bundles of wires that keep him running.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Honestly, Boothill's genitals can be just about anything, thanks to his attachments. He can have a cock or a cunt, he can be tiny or monstrously huge, he can have a dragon dick if either of you want… the sky is the limit ☺️

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

A bit high, but can you really blame him? You work Boothill's body so good that he finds his mind drifting to scenes of you making love to him more frequently than ever before.

Z = ZZZ (How quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Unless he's on low energy when you're finished, he won't "fall asleep" (go into rest mode).

[mona-risms]

you do NOT understand how much i need to. affectionately. collar Jade🤗🤗 or have her collar me idm like PUH-LEASE imagine her all submissive and looking up at r with puppy eyes or wtv they’re called and begging us to take it off❗️❗️❗️ me personally i would make her go to work in the collar

-🗑️

BARKBAKRBAKRBKABRKAJE OH HELL YES

Putting a collar on Jade is rhe funniest thing you could possibly do to this woman bc the moment you ask/propose the idea she'd look at you like she doesn't know how to react and she'd go "come again?" Like she doesn't even think of anything kinky at first, nor does she tease you about it—she would genuinely just go "is this a clause in a contract I don't recall signing with you?" SHE'S SO STUMPED

She'd realise your intentions in the end though so it doesn't last long. But ohhhhh OHHHHH it's so worth it in the end oh my god........having her kneel in front of you, her lips covered in the lipstick shade she loves so much and curved into a slight smirk that she often wears when she's with clients—a mode she can't turn off I fear. But there's More

Her eyes, usually slitted as if locking onto prey, would be blown black with the pale colour swallowed whole. Her necklace/chain pair is replaced with your collar (lovingly picked ofc IT BETTER BE 👹) and if you tug on her leash, her breath hitches. She'd look less predator and more prey :((( and she'd look even prettier when she begs for you to take it off after giving up the 'coy' act of trying to convince you to remove the 'needless' display of ownership

(She's being a brat she always loves testing your patience lol so break her 🤗 by making her eat you out and fucking her dumb 🤗🤗🤗)

If she goes to work with the collar on, Topaz questions it HEAVILY and Aventurine laughs. A lot. The Stonehearts have their variety of reactions, but ngl at the end of the day she might just keep wearing it until you take it off—maybe even use it as an 'example' that nobody's immune from a 'contract', even her

[sh1-n0bu]

♡︎ 𝙖𝙬𝙤𝙤𝙜𝙖𝙨! ♡︎

characters: sub!big men x gn!dom!reader

warnings: cock/strap/dick traditions, boob fucking, cumming on face, body, feminization, size difference, mentions of pregnancy, dumbification, lactation, feminine language used for the characters (princess, womb, maiden etc so pls tread with caution if that ain’t ur thing), read with optional bias character in mind

notes: nobu finally posting smt??????? nobu actually writing for once???????????? also this is just my obsession with boobs talking. dividers from cafekitsune. manga color tint by me

big men! with big chests that gets mistaken or joked of it being boobs by close friends and colleagues, who had gotten used to it. who at first used to get all blushy blushy but nowadays just shrugs it off with a disgruntled huff of “knock it off”

big men! who didn’t really see much problem when you started to favor their chest more, eventually opting to use them as a pillow rather than use your actual pillow since it gives them the advantage of falling asleep with you on top of them and they got to cuddle with you all night. a win-win situation in his book, as he could be quite clingy when behind closed doors. who laughs sometimes at the silliness of you smothering your face in between his chests, finding your obsession with his pecs to be endearing

big men! who didn’t realize how sensitive their chest could be until you decide to show it to them. squeezing, fondling the large muscles, tweaking his cute nipples occasionally and making him jolt in place with a cute blush covering his ears and cheeks. so adorable, like a meager bunny when he was nearly twice your size and could probably crush a grown man’s skull in with their hand

big men! who get so worked up over the dirty words you whisper when you pinch his hardened nipples, your words of “i could make your chest lactate”, “your boobs feel so heavy, darling”, “such a nice big tits you have” making him whine in the back of his throat, shaking his head as he shakily denies that “t-they’re not b-boobs… y-you nngh know that…”

big men! who gets manhandled by your smaller frame to lay on their backs, a cute surprised “eengk!” escaping his swollen lips as he looks up at you, pushing his tight shirt up until they’re resting over his chest, showing the big muscles you love so much. who cutely whine and wriggle in place under you as your fingers bully his hardened buds, pinching at the cute pinks, tugging on them before letting go, a noise of awe leaving your lips at the way his chest fucking jiggles while your bf could only jolt with words of “c-cruel… you’re so cruel to me. pu-unhh puppYAGH!”

big men! who get fucked stupid, brain churning into a mush by only having his nipples played with. pinched, tugged, even bitten till your fangs and teeth leaves a round mark closed around his areola that he slurs is too deep, acting like he is getting his tight hole spread open and fucked by your cock. whose face is so cutely flushed, eyes dazed over as he breathes heavily of “wan’ moowr.. ungh h-haah… annh♡︎ m-more please? touch me.. to-ouch me moore”

big men! who act like a sweet virgin who never got himself fucked by you when you kick off your pants, hardened cock already springing out and slapping against his cute boobs. who stare at your oozing tip with gaping mouth, letting out stuttered questions of “w-what… whaddaya doin’? h-hunny, noouw… no, don’t—♡︎!” before squealing when you squeeze his chest together, rutting your strap in between them

big men! who act like they have never seen your cock, never tasted it or even deep throated it before, acting like he never once took your dildo into his pretty hole until his legs shook as you fuck his boobs, moaning loudly like the cute bunny he is. who opens his mouth, jaw shaking as fat tears collect in his big doe eyes, messily sucking the tip, getting drunk on the taste of your pre already when you politely ask him to suck you off

big men! whose hands shakily grasp your ass, unintentionally helping you fuck their tits even more, pushing your strap even deeper inside his mouth as if he wanted you to just let go of their boobs and just fuck their throat instead. who lets out a cute confused noise, mouth full of your cock, batting his lashes up at you like the pretty little thing he is when you move his trembling hands to hold his boobs together instead of your ass. who tries to speak words of not knowing how to do it, still mouthful, as you give a tug to his cute bitten nipple, making him squeak

big men! who meagerly tries to fuck your cock in between his mounds, choking on your tip when you tilt his head down just enough so he could also suck you off, acting as if you just shoved your entire strap down his throat and was keeping it there, snuggly shutting him up. a whiny bf whose tears finally fall when you cum into his hot mouth, dropping of your cock when you came as if he was never drunk on the taste of your seeds before, letting some of it shoot over his face and hair instead. a hunky beast of a man, sniffling like a baby when he notices the mess you made of him, who dares to give you a half assed glare as if you forced him to make a mess

big men! who gets addicted to boob fucking after that one time thing, constantly thinking back on the feeling of squishing his own chest together to fuck your dick for you. whose hands finds themselves wandering to his pecs more often, pushing them together and moving them in soft round circles as if you would suddenly appear and fill the empty space between his boobs. who finds himself messing with his nipples over the tight fit of his shirt, finding himself to be perverted as he gets turned on by just fondling with his chest

big men! who, unable to keep teasing themselves anymore, start to touch themselves when you’re away on work or whatever. more specifically, their chests. rutting his clothed, hardened cock against a pillow that is squished between his thighs, tweaking at his nipples and tugging on them — just like how you do it — before letting go with a whimper. it hurt, but it also felt so good, he could feel his precum already wetting his boxers

big men! who finds out that his constant arousal by his nipples was a bad idea, as now every time he wears a tight shirt or compression vest, his nipples are rubbed and he finds himself getting horny. who, in desperation, decides to tenderly tape the cute pink nubs with a band aid, pouting to himself about how you were slowly but surely turning him into a perv

big men! who now finds it much easier to use his boobs to fuck you, quick to drop down to their knees in front of your clothed crotch, kissing the hidden thighs and inhaling at your natural scent with a love stricken look in their eyes. a cute, desperate bf who kisses your strap, rubbing you with his hands to try and get you hard as quick as possible. who hook their shirt over their chest, intentionally pushing his boobs together with his hands on his knees, creating the effect of round shaped breasts

big men! who impatiently watches until your cock is free, taking it into his mouth the moment you slide down your undergarments, suckling at the head just like how you enjoy it. who push you down to sit, so he could climb onto your lap, pushing his chest together so he could fuck your strap with his boobs, determined that now he had learned a good technique to make you feel good. who is quick to take the head of your dildo into his mouth, swiping the gathered pre with a pleased hum, looking up at your through his thick lashes with a drunken giggle before pulling away to spit on your hard on

big men! who drunkenly take the head of your strap into their hot mouth, suckling away at the delicious precum, unafraid to slobber all over your cock and his chest as he slowly moves the big muscles in a circular motion. who giggles in delight at your words of praise and groans, the tip of your cock that is still in his mouth vibrating with his drunk laughter. beefy bf who eagerly lap away at your cock head, slurping at the mess he made of his own drool and your precum before taking it back into his mouth, hollowing out his cheeks for you. only for you♡︎

big men! who pulls away again when you cum, watching with a cute mix of fascination and lewd anticipation as your hot cum shoots all over his jaws and chest, painting his skin in white. massaging your balls and stroking you through it all, opening his mouth slack as he stares up at you with hazed eyes, letting the last few drops shoot into his awaiting tongue, licking at his full lips with a pleasured hum. the salty, slightly sweet taste, a familiar one that he had gotten drunk on within the first round

big men! who straddle your lap, rubbing your wet strap on the round curve of his ass with a giddy giggle, feeling how the slippery wet tip doesn’t enter his tight hole without helping hands. finally, grasping at your dick with his hand, giving it a few strokes before pressing the tip against his entrance. your sweet bf who decide to be bold, sinking down onto your cock with one swift movement, a choked sob getting stuck in his throat at the sudden feeling of being “f-fughkk♥︎ a-aah haah mnngh♡︎ shooo fu-ull.. gut’s so ffuul of m-my [name]♥︎”

big men! who ride your dick all night, even as his muscles strain and his brain gets fucked into a stupid mush, slurring words of love and lust, saying all sorts of lewd things through his cum and drool covered pink lips as the kissable looking pair of muscles turn into a cute drunken smile. beefy big bf whose tits bounce all the while, their cute jiggles every time they sink down into your dick hypnotizing you to only focus on them. an adorable squeal escaping him as you tear away the band aids from his nipples, the stimulated nubs all hard and blush red as they greet you

big men! who squeeze their breast, forefinger and thumb squeezing around his nipple, as he grins at you with blown wide heart shaped eyes. “a-ain’t they cute…? dontcha wanna suck-unghk suck on them?” he asks, squishing his mound softly with a near delirious grin on his face. “come owwnn, don’t my [name] wanna taste my milk♡︎?”

big men! who lets out a pleased wet sob when you do give in, suckling, biting, squeezing at his jiggling boobs as he starts to bounce on your cock with a more fervent pace. who cries out at it being painful when you leave another teeth mark around his nub, one of his hands placed over his chest like one of the scared damsels in paintings. who slur out words of not being a damsel, of being a maiden, shaking his head as if he actually understood anything

big men! who gets their wombs filled with your cum for nth time that night, feeling his stomach start to bloat at the sheer amount he greedily took into his eager hole. fucked dumb bf who shakes his head at your words of getting off, refusing to lose the warmth in his stretched hole and filled stomach. who only notices when you pointed out, that his nipple was leaking, lactating a delicious white milk that dribbled down to his cum covered tummy. another drunk giggle follows, as he gets close to your ear to whisper a filthy slurred “now that i’m p-pregnant, my [name] better take responsibility♥︎”, having completely forgotten that he can’t get pregnant. but oh well, your beefy bf who is so adorable as he giddily speaks of carrying your young, rubbing at his belly with hearts swirling in his eyes, to the point you can’t bring yourself to correct him. only going slack on the couch with your sweet princess still on your lap

⇨ JOTUN LOKI, jiyan, diluc, alhaitham, CAPITANO, zhongli/rex lapis form, itto, wriothesley, JUNG YUAN, YINGXING, argenti, GALLAGHER, gepard, yhan, yuanwu, GLORFINDEL, maedhros, elu thingol, finarfin, FINROD, logan, thor, DIAVOLO, beelzebub, anubis (ennead), gyomei, YORIICHI, messmer the impaler + whoever you like!

[tsunaso]

HEAR ME OUT

Aventurine and his partner have been together for a while when they somehow try working through Aventurine’s past trauma by showing him what a true master is like (reader)

Note - heavy bdsm, master/slave, anything else you’d like but I would prefer this being a healthier one so not non/con or forced

Thank you! 💖💖

“LET ME SHOW YOU WHO I AM”

pairing. Sub!Aventurine x Top!male reader

synopsis. In where Aventurine finally submits on his own terms, he learns what it means to be touched without being taken. — 4.3k

warnings. mdni, nsfw, amab reader, master/slave kink, collaring kink, light bondage, fingering, blowjob, handjob, overstimulation, begging, dirty talk, praise kink, degradation kink, subspace, aftercare, safe word use, past trauma, discussions of past abuse, implied SA (not graphic), hurt/comfort

The room was quiet.

Not sterile. Not cold. It smelled faintly of lavender and wax polish—warm light spilling from a shaded lamp. The blinds were drawn. The door was locked.

Aventurine stood in the center of the room like a model in a glass case, posed. Perfect. Still. He had removed his gloves first. Then his rings. Then his coat. Every motion methodical. Almost clinical.

You’d seen him negotiate with CEOs more relaxed than this.

You sat on the edge of the couch, legs slightly parted, arms resting on your knees, watching him like he was something fragile. Not in the way that meant he’d break—but in the way that meant he already had, at some point, and learned to glue himself together into someone flawless.

And he was flawless. That was the problem.

"You're not breathing," you said quietly.

Aventurine blinked. Then inhaled like he forgot that he needed to. A short, clipped breath. He forced a smile. "I'm just… preparing."

"For what?"

He paused. "To give you what you want."

You let that sit. Let him feel it.

Then you stood—slow, controlled—and stepped into his space.

"Look at me."

He did. Carefully. He always looked carefully, like his gaze was a scalpel and he was afraid to cut too deep.

You reached out, brushing your knuckles against his jaw. He didn’t lean into it. He didn’t flinch either. He simply absorbed the touch like it was something he had to endure—an input to be processed, not felt.

“I want you to listen,” you said. “And I want you to listen as Aventurine. Not as someone performing. Not as a client trying to impress me. As you.”

His throat worked as he swallowed. “…I’m listening.”

“I’m not asking you to submit because I want to dominate you.”

He stiffened.

“I’m asking you to submit because I want to keep you safe.”

A silence followed. Longer this time.

You let your hand fall from his jaw and gently, deliberately, took his hand in yours. You turned it palm-up—his fingers were smooth, trembling ever so slightly.

You pressed a kiss to the inside of his wrist.

“That’s the only reason,” you said. “Everything else—the commands, the structure, the rules… those are tools. Not punishments. Not games. They're ways to show you something you weren’t allowed to believe.”

He stared at you, eyes flickering. “Which is?”

“That being owned can feel like being protected.”

His lips parted—then closed again. He didn’t speak.

But he was still listening.

So you guided him to the couch. You sat down first, then tugged him forward by the hand until he was kneeling between your legs. Not to humble him—to center him.

"Now," you murmured, letting your fingers brush along his throat. “Let’s make something clear before we go further.”

Aventurine swallowed again. You felt it beneath your fingertips.

"You are mine only if you choose to be. And that choice doesn’t disappear just because you're in a collar or calling me Master."

His breath hitched. Slightly.

"You have a safeword. And you will use it."

You felt him tense—but it wasn’t fear. It was confusion.

“Why?” he asked softly. “Do you think I’ll regret it?”

“No,” you said. “I think someone else made you believe you weren’t allowed to.”

He froze.

And there it was.

That flicker. That twitch beneath the surface. You saw it behind his eyes—how he wanted to deflect, wanted to throw on that trademark smirk and laugh you off, pretend none of it reached him.

But it did.

Because the first time you called him "slave," he hadn’t flinched. But he hadn’t melted either. He had looked like someone waiting to be hurt. Obedient, yes—but not present.

You didn’t want that again.

“I don’t want obedience like that,” you whispered.

His lashes flicked up. His eyes were wet—but not crying.

You kissed the space between his brows. “I want your devotion. Your trust. Not your fear.”

He went still.

“…Then I don’t know how to be yours,” he said softly.

You tilted his chin up.

“That’s okay,” you said. “I’ll teach you.”

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　𓆩♡𓆪

The collar was black. Supple leather, lined in deep velvet. Not flashy. Not harsh. Nothing sharp or ornamental. It wasn’t a trophy. It was a promise.

You fastened it slowly around Aventurine’s throat, adjusting the buckle until it sat snug against his skin, resting in the hollow between his collarbones. His breathing had grown shallower with every click, every brush of your fingers. But he didn’t pull away.

He didn’t stop you.

And now��now he knelt.

He looked beautiful like that. Not just in the aesthetic sense, though he always had a way of appearing curated, even when undone. No—this was deeper. He looked like something offered.

The room was low-lit. Heavy drapes. No mirrors. No performance. Just you and him, framed in candlelight and silence. Your voice was the only thing allowed to break it.

“You’re trembling.”

His eyes flicked up, fast. Shame tightening his jaw before he could stop it.

“I’m not—”

“You are,” you said gently. “And that’s okay.”

He exhaled like the air had been trapped in his chest for years.

You reached out, brushing his hair from his forehead, slow. He didn’t lean into it, but he didn’t pull back. Still learning. Still testing the depth of the space you’d carved open between you.

“I want to hear you say your safeword.”

“…Now?”

“Yes.”

His lips parted, then closed again. A flicker of pride, of resistance. Not defiance—just fear dressed in finery.

You tilted his chin up, thumb dragging along the edge of his jaw.

“Say it for me, Aventurine.”

“…Citrine.”

The word hung in the air. Soft. Almost delicate. Like it didn’t belong in his mouth.

“Good,” you murmured. “That word is power. Not weakness.”

You saw it flash in his eyes. That old wiring. That ache. The way he’d been taught that power only came through performance or control, through being sharper, cleverer, faster.

And now here you were, asking him to surrender.

You reached for his shirt. Silk, crisp, fitted. The kind of thing he wore like a second skin. You undid the buttons slowly, not ripping or demanding, but unwrapping him like something valuable. Something earned.

By the time you slid it off his shoulders, his breath had quickened again.

“Color?” you asked softly.

He blinked. “Huh?”

You smiled. “Give me your color.”

“…Green.”

Safe. Uncertain, but safe.

You trailed your fingers down his chest—bare, smooth, too still.

“I want to see you move when I touch you. Not freeze.”

He swallowed hard.

You leaned in, lips brushing just beneath his ear. “You don’t have to be perfect here. You just have to be mine.”

He shivered.

“…Yes, Master.”

There it was. That subtle quake beneath the surface. Not fear. Relief.

You reached for the tie you’d laid on the bed earlier—rich crimson silk, soft and long. A blindfold, if needed. A restraint, if wanted. But tonight, just a tether. You looped it gently around his wrists behind his back—not tight. Just a suggestion.

“Sit back on your heels.”

He obeyed.

You let the silence stretch, letting him feel the leash of your presence even without a word. Your gaze burned into him—watching the way his chest rose and fell too fast, the way his fingers twitched behind him, even restrained.

Then you spoke. Low. Commanding. Steady.

“Say it.”

He blinked, caught off guard. “Say… what?”

“Who you are.”

His throat bobbed.

You took a step forward, letting your fingers trail beneath the collar at his throat.

“Say it, Aventurine. Who do you belong to?”

“…You.”

“That’s not enough.”

He shuddered.

“I belong to you,” he whispered. “I’m… I’m your slave.”

The words cracked on the edge of something old—something raw.

And you knew. That this wasn’t the first time he’d said it. But it was the first time he wasn’t punished for saying it wrong. The first time he wasn’t being used like a toy to be broken and left behind.

This was the first time he said it and wasn’t afraid.

You stepped around him slowly, trailing your hand across his bare shoulder as you did.

“You’re mine,” you said, voice smooth as heat. “Because you asked to be. Because I said yes. And now… I’m going to show you what that means.”

You stopped behind him, let your hand drop lower, brushing the curve of his spine.

“You’re going to listen.”

Your hand slid lower—over the waistband of his slacks, down to his thigh.

“You’re going to obey.”

You knelt beside him now, brushing your lips over his temple.

“And if I touch you and you shake, I’ll hold you.”

He let out a small sound—too raw to name. You felt his breath stutter. His entire body leaned just slightly into yours. Like the tension in his shoulders had finally started to give.

“Color?” you asked, voice warm.

“…Green,” he whispered.

You smiled.

“Good slave.”

His eyes fluttered shut. His lips parted. And for the first time since you’d collared him, Aventurine didn’t look composed.

He looked free.

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　𓆩♡𓆪

You guided him onto the bed slowly. Not forced. Not posed. You didn’t bend him—you invited him. And he followed.

The sheets were dark—deep maroon silk, soft enough to slide against bare skin without a sound. The collar caught the light in a subtle gleam as Aventurine lowered himself down, legs folded beneath him, arms still behind his back. You sat in front of him, letting the room fall to quiet.

He was breathing a little too fast again.

You reached out, cupping his jaw in one hand. His lashes fluttered.

“Color?”

“…Green,” he whispered.

Your thumb stroked his cheek. “You’re doing beautifully, treasure.”

His breath hitched again, this time from something that almost sounded like relief.

You leaned in and kissed him. Soft. Just once. And when you pulled away, you saw the dazed flicker in his eyes.

You didn’t ask for more yet. You just started touching him—slow strokes of your fingers over his chest, his arms, his thighs. Mapping. Worshipping. Letting him feel like something sacred.

“You’ve been holding yourself together for so long,” you murmured, tracing the hollow of his hipbone. “You don’t have to anymore.”

Aventurine’s body twitched under your touch, heat flashing across his face. He was already hard—aching against the front of his slacks, pulse pounding through him in quiet, desperate waves.

You kissed his collarbone, then lower. “I want to see what you look like when you come apart.”

He made a noise—small, breathy.

“I want to see how messy I can make you.”

Another whimper. This one sharper.

You undid the button on his slacks. Pulled the zipper down with slow, steady fingers.

"You’ve kept yourself so clean," you said. "So controlled."

You slid his pants down, along with his briefs. His cock sprang free, flushed red, already leaking.

"But this isn’t clean," you whispered, wrapping your hand around the base. “This is filthy. Needy. And it belongs to me.”

He shivered violently. You felt his knees twitch beneath him.

“You’re mine, Aventurine.”

He nodded. “Y-Yes, Master.”

You pumped him slowly—light pressure, thumb teasing over the slit. You kissed down his thigh as you worked, feeling the tension begin to fracture.

"That’s it," you whispered, lips brushing his inner thigh. “Breathe for me, pretty boy.”

He did. He tried. He was panting now, head tilted back, fingers clenched behind him like he didn’t know where else to hold the sensation.

“Such a good thing,” you crooned. “So obedient. So sweet. So ready to break.”

Your tongue flicked over the tip. He jerked—gasped.

"Color?" you murmured against him.

“…Green,” he rasped. “F-fuck—green—”

You hummed in approval, then dragged your tongue up his shaft, slow, tasting every drop he’d spilled.

"Look at you," you whispered, mouth just above his cock. "So wet already. You’d let me ruin you with just my tongue, wouldn’t you?"

He moaned—loud.

So you took him in. Not all the way. Just the head. Just enough to pull a shudder from his hips before you pulled off again.

“Not yet,” you murmured, hand stroking him again, firmer. “You don’t get to cum until you beg.”

You leaned up, lips brushing his ear.

“And not like a businessman,” you whispered. “Not like a negotiator. Like a whimpering little thing.”

His cock twitched in your fist.

"Say it."

“I—”

"Say what you are.”

“…Your p-pet,” he gasped.

You squeezed.

"Not good enough."

“I’m your—your toy—your slut—”

"Good," you growled. "Getting closer."

You tugged his head back by the collar, made him look at you.

"You’re mine, aren’t you?"

“Yes—yes, I’m yours—please, Master—please let me cum—"

And then he choked on a sound. His whole body jerked.

And the word fell from his lips:

“Yellow.”

You froze.

Not in fear. Not in failure.

In readiness.

Your hand left his cock instantly. You released the collar. Your voice softened.

“Hey.” You cupped his cheek. “You did perfect. You’re safe.”

His breathing was erratic. His eyes were glossy. But he wasn’t panicked. Not quite. Just too much. Overwhelmed. Drenched in sensations he’d never let himself feel before.

“I didn’t want to stop,” he said, voice breaking. “It just—just hit too fast—”

You nodded. Kissed his temple. Held his jaw steady.

“You did everything right,” you whispered. “I’m proud of you.”

He shivered. A small sound leaked from his throat—frustration. Shame. Something old.

You held him.

“You said yellow,” you murmured. “Not red. That means we slow down. We breathe. We check in.”

You reached for the silk tie around his wrists, undoing it gently.

He was trembling now.

And when he whispered, “I’m sorry,” you cut him off immediately.

“Don’t apologize,” you said. “Not for taking care of yourself. Not with me.”

He went quiet. Eyes searching yours.

“…So we can still—?”

You smiled.

“We’re going to continue. If you want to. And this time?”

You leaned in, kissed him slow, deep, open-mouthed.

“I want you to give me your surrender.”

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　𓆩♡𓆪

He was still shaking when you brought him back to the bed.

Not from fear. Not from regret. From how much it was.

He let you hold him without asking. Let you kiss the top of his head, run your fingers down the back of his neck, cradle him in your lap like something precious. And when your hand slid to his thigh again—he opened his legs without hesitation.

“I want you inside me,” he whispered. “Please.”

Your fingers traced the line of his inner thigh, featherlight. “You sure?”

His breath caught.

Then, “Yes, Master.”

You smiled, leaned in, and kissed the side of his mouth. “Then I’ll give you what no one else ever did.”

He blinked, eyes fluttering.

“What’s that?”

You kissed his throat, tongue dragging over the edge of the collar.

“Time.”

You laid him out like he was something sacred—chest to the sheets, legs parted, cheek resting against a silk pillow. He looked wrecked already. Hair wild, skin flushed, cock twitching against his stomach. He still had the collar on.

Your hand ran down his back slowly, fingers trailing the curve of his spine. You watched his hips twitch in anticipation.

And then you whispered, “I’m going to stretch you open now.”

Aventurine shuddered.

“Not like them,” you added, voice low and warm. “Not fast. Not hard. Not careless.”

You pressed a kiss to the small of his back.

“Like this.”

Your hand slid between his legs, parting them more. You took your time with the lube—warm, slick, worked between your fingers before you ever touched his hole. You let your thumb rest against the rim, not pushing, just being there.

“Breathe for me,” you whispered. “Color?”

“Green,” he rasped. “Fuck, I’m green—just—please.”

You slid one finger in. Slowly. No resistance. Just heat. Just a shaky, desperate moan beneath you.

“That’s it,” you murmured. “That’s my good boy.”

He gasped into the pillow, his whole body tensing—then softening.

"You're so tight," you praised. "So soft inside. You were made for this."

You curled your finger, watching the way he arched, hips twitching.

“M-Master—”

You hummed, kissing the dip of his back.

“I know. It’s good now, isn’t it?”

He nodded, whimpering.

You took your time. You didn’t rush the second finger. You didn’t stretch him to watch him squirm—you stretched him because you wanted him to be ready. You wanted to give his body the chance to welcome you.

Not endure you.

Aventurine was panting now. His cock leaked freely onto the sheets. Every twist of your fingers sent a sob through him.

“You’re doing so well,” you whispered. “Letting me open you. Letting me feel how warm you are inside. This hole is mine now, isn’t it?”

He moaned—wrecked, high, humiliated.

“Yes, Master—it’s yours—just yours—”

You slipped in a third finger, carefully, watching his back arch as he cried out.

But he didn’t say yellow.

He didn’t say stop.

He pushed back.

You grinned.

“Oh, you’re greedy now,” you murmured against his ear, one hand reaching around to grip his leaking cock. “You want it all, don’t you?”

He whimpered. Nodded. Twitched in your hand.

"Say it."

“P-please,” he sobbed. “Please fill me—break me—fuck me full—I want to be yours inside—please, I need your cock—”

You laughed—low, hot, proud.

“Oh, my sweet little slut.”

He gasped—choked on it.

You leaned down, kissed the back of his neck. Then whispered, “You like being called that now, don’t you?”

“…Y-yes—”

“You like being my toy. My slave. My obedient little hole.”

His whole body seized.

“F-fuck—!”

You pulled your fingers out—slow, careful, teasing.

He sobbed at the loss.

You lined yourself up, pressed the tip against his stretched, slick entrance.

He pushed back instantly.

"Greedy thing," you growled. "Beg for it."

“Please, Master—please—fuck me—ruin me—make me your cumdump—please—”

And you gave him exactly what he asked for.

You sank in.

All the way.

Slow. Measured. No brutality. No rush. You slid into him inch by inch, letting him feel it, letting him open around it, letting the stretch burn sweet and thick as your cock filled his aching hole.

Aventurine gasped—his voice a cracked moan as his body trembled beneath yours.

“Oh, f-fuck—” he choked out, knuckles white as they dug into the sheets.

You leaned down, one arm braced beside his head, the other gripping his hip tight, keeping him spread open as your cock bottomed out, balls resting snug against his skin.

“There it is,” you whispered into his ear. “Feel that? That’s me, inside you.”

He whimpered. You felt the clench around you—tight, slick, hungry.

“This is what you needed all along. Not a man who takes. A man who fucks you like he owns every inch.”

You pulled back—slowly—and thrust in again, long and deep, your cock dragging against the sweet spot that made his legs shake.

He moaned—loud, broken. His cock throbbed untouched against the sheets.

You kept the rhythm slow, heavy, grinding deep with every thrust, pushing the sound out of him with every roll of your hips.

“Y-you’re so deep,” he gasped. “I—I can feel you in my stomach—Master—please—”

You kissed his neck, teeth grazing the collar. “You’re taking it so well. My pretty little whore.”

He shuddered. “Yes—yes—call me that again—”

You thrust deep—he jerked, crying out.

“Say it.”

“I’m your whore,” he whimpered. “I’m your obedient whore—use me—please—just—”

He clenched around you, hole fluttering, walls pulsing like he was already about to cum.

You grabbed a fistful of his hair, pulling his head back.

“Don’t cum,” you growled into his ear. “Not until you break for me.”

Aventurine whined, a high, needy sound, mouth open, drool slipping down his chin as you kept fucking into him—slow, deep, deliberate.

“Faster,” he sobbed. “P-please—Master—please fuck me harder—need it—need you to ruin me—”

You slammed in hard. He screamed.

“Oh, that’s it,” you growled. “You like it now, don’t you? You like being fucked stupid.”

“Y-yes—yes, I do—please—don’t stop—”

You pulled the leash tighter, using it to anchor him as you began thrusting fast, hard, pounding into his slick hole until the slap of skin-on-skin echoed with every deep, bruising thrust.

“You gonna cum like this?” you hissed. “Face in the sheets, used, leaking, begging?”

“Yes—yes—I’m your cumslut—I’m yours—only yours—”

His words collapsed into gasping cries, voice breaking every time your cock slammed into that same aching spot deep inside.

You reached under him, fisted his cock—already wet, throbbing, twitching.

“You want to cum, slut?”

He nodded frantically, tears slipping down his cheeks.

“Then fucking ask.”

“Please—Master—please let me cum—let me make a mess for you—please—”

You grinned.

“Cum for me, slave.”

He screamed.

His body seized, hole clenching so tight around your cock it almost pushed you over the edge. His cum splattered across the sheets in thick, hot streaks, and he collapsed beneath you—shaking, moaning, drooling, trembling with every aftershock as you kept fucking him through it.

He was babbling now. You didn’t need to understand. It was all yours.

You growled low, thrusting one last time and spilling inside him, hot and thick, grinding deep as you filled him to the brim. He sobbed into the sheets—completely broken open, your cum leaking from his fluttering hole as he whispered, “Thank you, Master,” again and again.

You kissed his shoulder.

“You did so well for me,” you murmured. “So good. So obedient. So mine.”

He made a small sound—something close to a sob—but there was no fear in it.

Only peace.

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　𓆩♡𓆪

You didn’t let go of him. Not once. Not when he came undone under you, not when his body collapsed into aftershocks, not when his sobs started—quiet and broken, into the silk sheets.

You stayed inside him, shallow and warm, one hand on his waist, the other splayed across his chest. His breath came in shivers. His body twitched with every small pulse of aftershock, still spread open, still marked by you.

And still, he whispered, “Thank you, Master.” Over and over again. Like a prayer. Like a child afraid of silence.

You kissed the back of his neck. Gently. “You don’t have to thank me for not hurting you.”

His fingers curled in the sheets. He didn’t answer right away.

You pulled out slowly. Your cum dripped down the inside of his thighs, hot and wet, and he didn’t move. He just exhaled—long, cracked, like the last of his performance was melting out of him.

You left only briefly. Warm towel. Cloth. Water. When you returned, he hadn’t shifted.

He was still kneeling.

Silent.

Shaking.

You moved behind him and eased him into your lap. Chest to back. He folded like he’d been waiting to. You wrapped your arms around him and held him there—wet, ruined, open—and he let you.

You cleaned him gently. Slow, soft, reverent. Not possessive now. Not hungry. Just present.

“I want to hear your color,” you whispered.

“…Green,” he breathed. “Just… slow.”

“Slow is good.”

Another breath. Then, quieter: “I don’t want to go back to my room.”

“You won’t.”

You tightened the towel around him, pressing your palm over his heart. The leather collar was still warm under your fingers.

“Does this still feel good?” you asked, thumb brushing it.

“…Yes.”

“Does it still feel like a leash?”

“No.”

“Good.”

You tilted his face toward you. His eyes were red, wet, shining.

He swallowed.

“I kept waiting for it.”

You blinked. “For what?”

“For the part where you stopped asking,” he said. “Where you just… took.”

Your breath stilled.

He looked down, shame creeping like old blood into his voice. “They didn’t ask. Not after I was sold. The first ones just—”

You adjusted your hold—firmer now. Grounded.

“I know.”

“There was a man who called me by my serial number,” he said. “Said names were for people.”

You didn’t speak. You held him tighter.

“I used to think… if I offered it first, let people use me, I was in control. If I moaned loud enough or spread my legs fast enough, maybe they’d forget I didn’t want it.”

His voice cracked. His jaw clenched.

“But none of them ever stopped.”

You found his hand. Laced your fingers through his.

“…And you did.”

You didn’t say of course. You didn’t say I’m not like them.

You said: “You said yellow. So I slowed.”

And something inside him shattered.

He didn’t break pretty. He broke real. Face crumpling, shoulders shaking, tears falling hard against your skin as he buried his face in your chest and wept.

Not from shame.

From being seen.

You rocked him gently. Back and forth. Holding him through every sob, every tremor, every time he tried to apologize only to collapse again.

“I didn’t think I could ever be like this again,” he whispered.

“Like what?”

“Soft.”

You closed your eyes. Kissed his hair.

“You’re not soft. You’re just safe.”

His breath hitched.

“I don’t remember the last time I felt wanted,” he said, voice thin, “without needing to win something first.”

“You didn’t win me,” you murmured. “You let me hold you.”

His lashes fluttered. His voice dropped to a whisper:

“…Was I good?”

You cupped his cheek, thumb wiping a tear from his flushed skin.

“You were perfect.”

He laughed. It broke halfway. “I look pathetic right now.”

“No,” you said, smiling. “You look mine.”

He flinched—just slightly—but he didn’t deny it.

You kissed his nose. Brushed his damp hair back.

“Can I ask you something?”

“…Anything.”

“What do you want me to call you now?”

You didn’t rush it.

“You can keep Aventurine. Or Slave. Or…” You paused. “Kakavasha.”

He blinked.

His breath caught in his chest.

“I haven’t heard that name in so long,” he whispered. “It feels like it belongs to someone else.”

You nodded. “It does.”

He looked at you, startled.

You smiled.

“But maybe… that someone still lives here.” You placed your hand gently over his heart.

He didn’t answer. He couldn’t. His throat worked. His lashes fluttered.

You leaned close, nose to his cheek.

“Until you decide… I’ll call you what I see.”

He swallowed.

“And what’s that?” he whispered.

You kissed the edge of his collar.

“My beloved.”

[sxducexdxstroy]

I cannot stop thinking about Blade… 

He wants it hard and fast, rough and bruising. Honestly, some part of it probably is a self imposed punishment. Let's be real, he probably doesn’t think he deserves anything else. But he’s an old man who's been through so much, obviously you need to prove him wrong and show him how much he really deserves.

Undress him slowly, trace over every scar with your fingers and then repeat with gentle kisses instead. All the while he's huffing, trying to goad you into hurrying up, telling you to knock it off and get to it. He won’t actually stop you, though. Really, he’s surprisingly well behaved, and when you tell him to hush, he does. 

Move your attention to his chest, squeezing and massaging his rather sizable pecs. Brush your thumbs across his sensitive nipples, tease him just a bit before you really get into it. Rub nice little circles around them, grasp and pinch them between your thumb and forefinger, tug just a bit and before long, he’ll be squirming beneath you, trying to hide just how much he actually enjoys this. 

And if you put your mouth on them? He’s gasping, biting his lip, arching into your touch. You could never get him to admit it, but he loves the attention on his chest. Circle your tongue over one, pull it into your mouth and suck. Bite his nipple and you’ll have him whining beneath you, thrusting his hips up to get the littlest bit of friction on his dick. Just a bit more of this and he’ll even be close to begging, but you’re supposed to be nice to him this time, aren’t you? 

Before he can finally be reduced to begging, move to sit between his legs, finger him open slowly, brush your fingers against his prostate just enough to tease. Despite how much he believes he doesn't deserve your gentle touches, he can’t deny how much he secretly enjoys when you deny him what he “wants”, when you take things at your own pace and show him such pleasurable kindness. 

When you’ve finally pushed your way inside him, his legs wrapped around your waist, keep the same slow, gentle pace. Lean over to whisper praises and declarations of adoration in his ear whilst fucking into him and soon enough, you’ll finally break him. He’s grasping at you, groaning and whining, begging for more. Of your touch or your words it's hard to tell which one he means, but who are you to deny him either? 

When all is said and done, just hold him close. He’s a man of few words, he won’t tell you what he needs or how he feels. But, with the way he leans into your touch, the way his eyes close and he finally is able to rest, it’s obvious how much he trusts you, appreciates the way you take care of him. And for someone like him, the way you provide gentle care unprompted, allow him small reprieves from his daily torments, it means more to him than he could ever express.

[vrachis]

imagine having drunk car sex with subby robin(hsr)... fuck imagine spilling some wine over her body and licking it off HSWHSUWHUSEB i want her so abd

the halovian had deemed it as inappropriate considering you were both in a moving vehicle, the driver being in there nonetheless, so why were you here spitting such nonsense?

well to put it simply, a celebration after one of her performances had gotten you in this intoxicated state, and she was not at all surprised to see you stumbling around and mumbling dumb, sweet nothings into her ear

it was already quarter to midnight by the time the party was over, and now the two of you are stuck at the back of the limousine, and robin espies your intense gaze on her, those hazy (e/c) irises staring at her being like some sort of foreign thing. the winged woman gulps, knowing where this would end up thanks to proper understanding of your behaviour from past events

your next action confirms her thoughts ; shifting next to her and feeling your arm creep around her waist, squirming in her seat while your lips plant against the inside of one of her wings, gradually trailing from the soft bundles of feathers down to her neck. the sensation of your soft lips on her skin elicits quiet sighs, though she was supposed to be obligated to push you away, her body instinctively leans into your touch, seeking more of that irresistible warmth.

each touch sets her body on fire, rekindling that restrained desire hidden behind several weeks worth of work. her hums sound in the back of the car, unable to hide her desire, satisfied with your lecherous ministrations. when your foreplay was done, you're ridding yourself of your own clothes, as well as robin's, determined to make the most of this long travel.

both of you are naked in the backseat, your mouth latching onto her skin, addicted to her taste and scent. to spice things up, you're taking a spare bottle of wine in one of the hidden compartments, popping it open and gently spilling it all over her slicked body, groaning at the sight of the red liquor trickling all over that fair skin.

the surprise comes later, replaced with newfound sense of arousal, robin moans when your tongue laps up at the liquid glazing her body, unable to peel her eyes off the sight of you salaciously delighting in her wine coated skin. the mere idea had popped out of nowhere, but it had served properly as a way to enjoy drunkenness on a whole new level. when your head makes its' way back up to hers, your lips press against hers and the halovian can taste the sumptuous, rich wine on your tongue, humming in approval and satisfaction. robin can feel herself getting immersed in the taste, finally aware of as to why you had been consuming so many of such.

"taste so fuckin' good for me, pretty girl," you're groaning against her lips, giving her a few more pecks before pulling back, your hand reaching to ghost above her wet cunt, feeling her wetness ebb at the tip of your fingers.

a whimper escapes her lips when your digits rub all over her wetness, thighs trembling from the euphoric feeling. her quiet noises turn into slightly louder whines, clawing at your arm when two fingers sink into her warmth, creating filthy, sloshing sounds that splash onto the faux leather fabric of the car seat (you gotta clean it up after y'know).

her eyes roll back then snap shut when your pace becomes faster, much more eager to see her come undone. she can't help the filthy mess she makes, not when your fingers have her legs shaking and inner walls spasming. you moan in tandem with her, the pleasure she's experiencing fueling your own desires.

"ah, ah- 'm so close, please-" you silence her breathy moans with a kiss, chuckling when you pull away. her wings flap rapidly, moving up to cover her flushed face when your tongue traces circles all over her upper body, licking up the soaked mess of wine on her breasts.

"you gonna cum for me, my angel?" you mumble against one of her tits, earning a desperate nod from her. with that affirmation, you curl your fingers inside, hitting that sweet spot within her, cooing when her hips stutter and grind against your hand. "go on, cum for me."

the last few loud moans she lets out and the spasming of her cunt is all you need to know she's close, placing a thumb above her clit to help her come undone faster. with a suck to her nipple, she comes undone in your arms, thighs shaking uncontrollably and copious amounts of slick coat your hand. you hold her through every moment of it, pulling away from her breast to come up and place several kisses on her forehead, whispering praises. her orgasm starts to die down, her breathing evening through the slow rise and fall of her chest, and with the way her wings flap open to reveal her exhausted face.

your lips curl into a smile, then you retract your fingers from her sore hole, moaning at the amount of slick that webs at your skin. taking them in your mouth, you hum in delight, still hazed from drunkenness, the taste of the halovian serving as a remedy. "you taste so good, angel."

she's limp in your arms, still a bit shaky from her orgasm but you don't seem to mind it one bit. after all, the night is still young, and it's still a long way until you both are home.

thank aeons there had been a partition wall in this limo, or all of this wouldn't have happened. just pray that the driver hadn't heard anything, or else you're in deep trouble with another certain halovian.

[yanderefarm]

fucking DAN FENG's previous previous incarnation so good the memories latch with every incarnation ever and they're all so head over heels in love for reader like damn.

Reader is basically their mate as if they all know by instinct that he's THE ONE that fucked them SO GOOD.

It's like that with dan feng too, the moment he saw you he just went feral with instinct and need, the unfamiliar yet familiar sensations rushed through him and he acted on impulse, pulling you to his chamber and kissed you hard and rough like all the previous incarnation did before.

It's the same now with dan heng too.

The moment he saw you, next to jing yuan at the devine commission, he had to squeeze his thighs to hold in a whimper

who are you really? dan feng/dan heng

cw;; angst, nsft, tail pulling, blood mention

im sorry for being a whore for the sads. i was thinking about this quest in canon about a vidyadhara and a xianzhou native where this guy falls in love with her in every life but for her it's just losing the person she loves over and over again. i think a relationship between a vidyadhara and a xianzhou native is inherently pretty sad like that but I think adding the fact that dan feng is the xianzhou's biggest fuck up to the mix makes it even more. that's why I wrote it with y/n being kind of distant because like... how many times has he loved this man so much and so deeply only to be forgotten and treated like a stranger?

who are you? dan feng asks himself a thousand times. he knows technically who you are, you're an attendant for general jingliu. he doesn't know why his thighs squeeze around nothing when he's near you, he doesn't know why when you touch him his body grows so hot it's hard to think, he doesn't know why your voice makes him want to fall to his knees. he can surmise you know but he never has the chance to get you alone, he only ever sees you when you're with the general.

then one day you're running an errand for her that brings you to his estate. your errand doesn't matter because the vidyadhara high elder has ordered you to his bed chamber. he was just going to interrogate you. he needed to finally know who you were.

that plan fell apart when you casually entered his room. you were standing there, a knowing smile on your face and your head cocked to the side. dan feng may have lacked the memories of his former lives but his body didn't. with a practiced ease he slipped his robes over his shoulders, his eyes asking if you liked what you saw.

"you're insatiable as always, high elder. I've not yet had a full conversation with you but you're here exposing yourself to me." you stepped forward until your legs reached the bed.

"you know me...?" it wasn't really a question considering you both clearly knew the answer.

you laughed at him. choosing to respond with your hand coming up and gently pushing his robe further off his body. his skin met the cold air and his soft pink nipples immediately hardened earning another warm laugh from you. he felt like you were mocking him but he couldn't bring himself to be offended, instead his heart felt warm.

you traced your fingers down his thin chest until they met where his robes were tied around his waist. "you can stop me whenever you want, high elder."

"dan feng." he said softly, almost embarrassed by himself.

"hm?" you tilted your head at him.

"my name, it's dan feng." that earned him another laugh.

"ahh sorry, dan feng. i've never known any of you to like being called your title." your tone was smug and oh so knowing.

your hand pulled at the knot around his waist finally undoing it and exposing his naked front to your leering eyes. dan feng found himself unable to form words as his cock twitched and swelled with desire that wasn't entirely his. he expected you to mock him, to laugh at his pathetic state that he couldn't even explain. yet you didn't, your arrogant smirk had even disappeared from your lips as you focused your gaze on his body. your head was so close to his that the young dragon could smell your hair but you weren't even looking at him instead your face had an odd expression as you stared at his body. he opened his mouth to speak as your eyes came back up to stare into his, your eyes took his breath away. he'd never seen you this close before but now you were right in front of him so close he could touch you and your beautiful eyes were looking at him with an emotion he couldn't decipher.

"i can help you take care of this, dan feng." your voice sounded odd, lacking the arrogance of before.

dan feng reached up and grabbed your arms with a desperation he'd never felt before. "you know that my body is yours."

a heavy smile crossed your face. "i wouldn't dare lay claim to your body, dan feng."

"... is my appearance not to your liking?" he felt like he'd done something wrong to you and that was the only reason you didn't have him shoved into his bed right now.

you blinked at him before your arrogant smile returned to your face. "you're beautiful."

"then ravish me." he pushed aside the odd feeling in his chest and took up a commanding tone.

you didn't waste any time immediately your mouth was on his, like a man dying of thirst as your tongue pressed to his lips. dan feng who had never known these things in this life felt his body reacting on instinct and pulled you down over top of him. your hands explored him like they had done so a thousand times, effortlessly finding weak spots that he didn't even know existed. one of your larger hands pinched his perky nipple drawing out a loud moan that let you slide your tongue in his mouth. your other hand hiked his thigh onto your hip allowing you easy access to roll your clothed hips against him. dan feng was moaning and squirming under your large body, his hands struggling against the overwhelming pleasure to get your clothes off.

it was only once his cock was red and leaking that you finally eased off of him. your hands were fumbling to quickly pull your clothes off as you took in heavy breaths. despite dan feng's own incompetence when it came to touching you it seemed like you were also aroused. his eyes watched transfixed as you undid your belt, your thumbs hooking into your pants and dragging them down. his eyes immediately fixed on the large bulge in your underwear, his mouth starting to water with desire.

you laughed at his pathetic state. "patience, dear."

your hand came over to rub your thumb over his kiss swollen lips, the slightest brush against his bottom lip had his mouth opening and taking your thumb on his tongue. on instinct he sucked on your thumb, his tongue swirling around the digit with precision he shouldn't have possessed. you moaned, sliding your thumb deeper into his mouth until your whole digit was coated in his spit.

"that feels nice doesn't it, dan feng? i know it feels so good to let your head empty for me." your thumb began to pull out of his mouth slowly but he scraped his teeth against the top of it in a minor attempt to stop you.

"mm such a good boy." your voice was so warm and calming as your thumb pushed back into his mouth.

"its ok, lose yourself. the only thing that matters is pleasing me." you pulled your thumb free from his mouth as his eyes finally grew hazy and distant.

"what do I do...?" dan feng could feel his head grow fuzzy as his body got hotter.

"wanna see you with your tail in the air pretty boy."

all it took was your words and dan feng found himself face down in his bed, his tail held high in the air. you ran your fingers from the base of his tail up drawing an absolutely sinful moan from the high elder. when your fingers finally began to push at his hole they slid in easily like his body had already molded to your shape. his body greeted you like an old friend; his hole already loose and ready for you, your every touch drawing little moans and shivers from him. it didn't take long for him to be a drooling and ready mess against his silk sheets.

your bodies fit together like puzzle pieces, they always have. your thick cock fills the pretty dragon beneath you until his stomach is bulging but he doesn't whine in pain. his tail fits so perfectly in your hand and acts like such a good handle so you can jack hammer deep inside him. his pretty pink swollen lips hang open with drool dripping down his chin between his cock drunk babbling. he cums first in his pathetic state, cock spilling all over the sheets before he feels his legs try to give. you don't let him fall, hands keeping his hips in the air when he no longer has the strength to do it himself.

you were planning to make him cum and stop but your body craved him just as much as he craved you. you buried your face into his hair, pressing your chest down against his back, trying to memorize as much of him as possible. you should have completely memorized him by now but every time things like his soft scent and pretty voice were the first things to fade. your nails dug into his hips enough to draw blood but dan feng didn't do anything but moan and whine in reaction. your pretty dragon didn't know that you were currently struggling to ingrain him into your mind, all he knew was that his mate was fucking him like a wild animal.

you mouthed slurred praise against his neck; telling him he was so good for you, so pretty, took him so well, such a good slut. it was hard to tell if it was the hickey you left in his skin or the excess praise that caused him to cum again. his hole tightened so much around you that you lost yourself, finally pumping ropes of cum in his tight ass. his pretty thighs were trembling and he babbled his thank yous clearly believing that was the end of your mating. you only gave yourself a moment to rest before you continued your jackhammer pace.

the pretty high elder was an absolute mess when you finished with him; bruises, bite marks, scratches, cum stains, hand prints. he was so fucked out you had to gingerly move him into place in your arms, you held him like you'd held him a thousand times. his pretty eyes blinked at you as he fought to stay conscious but your hand gently rubbing his back certainly made it difficult.

"mate..." he whined so softly his voice raw from the hours of use.

you pressed a kiss into his hair. "so good for me."

---

from then dan feng didn't receive any answers, you actively tried to avoid his question. but despite the look you would get occasionally you always remained by his side. you felt like you were at a distance but you gave him everything he asked for so how could he be angry? you wish that back then you had let yourself love him properly, you should have indulged yourself in the lovey dovey actions of his past lives. you didn't realize that he would be gone for good.

all at once you lost everything in your life because of your mate's foolishness but you didn't even get the right to be angry at him. you remember when jing yuan stepped up as general and asked you to assist him the same way you had his mentor. at the time you had only asked that you be exempt from attending the high elder's trial, you wanted your last memory of him to be anything but him in chains. if you could have you would remove the last memory of jingliu being covered in your friend's blood from your brain too. but even while the xianzhou recovered you were left to remember the past.

it was the longest 500 years of your infinitely long life. you could tell that several times jing yuan thought he would lose you to the mara but you persisted. you remained a loyal attendant to the general even as the ambrosial arbor looked to tear the ship apart. when you have nothing but time of course everything will eventually recover.

"you don't need to attend." jing yuan sounded thoughtful while you poured his tea.

"i would find it rude to run away from the people who saved our home." your face was emotionless and empty like it had been for a long time. you caught the general giving you a pitying look before he enjoyed his tea.

you couldn't have guessed why he would look at you like that. you couldn't have guessed that tricky bastard wouldn't have just told you. the visitors from the astral express were standing there looking at you, a background employee who had just dropped and smashed a 300 year old tea set all over the divination commission floor. your eyes were fixed on the black haired man, the one who was unmistakably looked just like dan feng. his eyes met yours and the slightest of blushes crossed his cheeks like it had in a thousand life times before.

"i apologize for-" jing yuan was cut off by that soft voice.

"who are you..?"

[bloodfiendarling]

i was so fuckin . angry and sick and decided to take it out on gallagher . im so sorry my darling .. i was SEETHING . < : (

drabble

wc — ~350

pairing — reader x gallagher

contains — dom top reader , sub bottom char , afab gallagher , mtf reader , hate sex ( ? more like angry sex idk ) , chocking ( with his tie ) , degrading , semi public ( in his closed bar ) , dubcon , headlock

this shit is written like a hentai hep me

the bartender clawed at the wooden counter, one hand desperately itching onto the red-pink tie tightly secured on his neck as you pulled and pulled tighter — constructing his oxygen, only to let go when you could tell he was about to pass out. your cock slamming into his sloppy cunt, letting slick drip down onto his thighs and the floor below.

“ghnK – haa .. can'hh – uhg..”

“can’t breathe?” you mock, loosening the tie just enough for him to breathe in some air, then tightening it right back. the action made his pussy clamp down hungrily on your cock — his eyes rolling and back arching. his legs felt like they were about to give in..

choked out moans spilled out of his pretty lips, his hair was a mess. but his hips couldn’t help and meet your thrusts like a desperate little whore.

you tugged hard, leaning down right into his ear. “you’re so fuckin’ wet — like cheap slut. do you see yourself right now?” gallagher couldn’t even string out a proper response. his head was complete mush — nothing in that brain except the hard thrusts of your cock into his hole.

finally — you untie it. letting his head hang low. the bartender took heavy, shaky breaths as he was finally able to breathe properly in the past hour. his legs shaking, cunt still greedily sucking in your cock. only for you to grab a fistful of his hair and slam his head down onto the table. hooking an arm on his neck.

— and then, squeeze.

“hhaghcK—?!” his airways were closed off again. far harder than his tie — he could only paw at the arm around his neck, brain too fucked out to actually fight back.

he’s gonna die. he’s gonna fucking die. he can’t —

he felt your arm loosen, just a little bit of relief washing over him — till he felt your hot cum spilling into him. coating his gummy walls with your seed. the feeling made him see stars. feeling himself cum as it rushed inside of him.

you bit the back of his neck, hard — enough to draw some blood as you came deep and hard into him. “you’re like a dumb bitch in heat, you know that, right?”

hsr m . list ♡

[livelaughlovesubs]

About what I said with clothed sex… hear me out

Imagine he’s all spread out in front of you already, panting heavily, blushing, eyes hazy with lust. Watching you guiding his thighs around your body, hands working on his pants. His shirt hanging off his shoulder, all disheveled and failing at covering up anything. You opened his trousers, revealing his underwear. And instead of pulling both of it down to his ankle - like you always do - you stopped.

Quite the opposite, you began kissing his neck while gently stroking him through his boxers, until he was completely erect and leaking through the fabric. A dark and sticky spot quickly formed, but you still didn’t touch him directly. At first this was still bearable, considering he was a man with some pride. If you wanted to drag this out, fine by him. Yet when you showed no signs of stopping, he asked you with a slight confusion what you were doing.

All you did was continuing the caress while whispering against his skin, “want me to touch you? Why don’t you strip and ask nicely?” Now there’s two ways how this could play out, depending on if he decides to be good or not. If he obeys obediently, acting all flustered while raising his shirt to bite on it, pulling down his own underwear, exposing himself for you, he deserves a reward, right?

But if he doesn’t, and acts bratty instead… you’ll just have to keep touching him only through his clothes, until he cums all pathetically into the now soiled fabric. Making a mess inside his boxers~ only then would you finally pull them off his legs, call him a dirty thing and making him clean up the mess he made ♡

[kisakis-boyfriend]

Well, if there's one thing you never expected to see, it was Moze touching himself. Throughout your entire relationship, you'd never come across him doing anything even remotely sexual on his own — it seemed as though he only did those things with you.

Then, one day, while you were carrying a basket of clean laundry to your bedroom — you heard it. Clear as day, you hear your partner grunting, and these repetitive slick sounds. You don't want to assume, but…

Moze doesn't seem phased at all when the door opens, only glancing in your direction. His voice is raspy as his hips lift off of the bed, moaning freely while he fingers himself through his orgasm. The end of your bed is now soaked…

Before you know it, you're kneeling at the edge of the bed, licking your lips while Moze masturbates right in front of you. You're well within the splash zone, and every time Moze cums or squirts, you get it on your face.

His fingers are pruny after nearly an hour of touching himself, and his entire body feels lighter than usual — now he gets to lay back and wind down while his adoring partner licks him clean~

…Moze's not going to let you stop there though. He does expect a real bath to actually clean y'all up…and a fresh set of sheets.

[plaguechyld]

Your hands are pressing his to the mattress so possessively...

It's sinful how loud he moans when you stop him from grabbing onto you, pinning his scrambling and twitching hands to the soft sheets of the bed he was being fucked so mercilessly on.

"Pl- Pleasheee!~" he cries out for you and calls your name soon after. His voice is broken, desperate and a clear representation of his debauched self.

The many hours he had spent under your body, receiving the mind breaking pleasure that you had to offer him had already turned his pretty little head to mush.

Oh, but he should've known better, right? Known better than to flirt with that whore at the bar. But he just couldn't get enough of your jealously filled roughness. It was truly divine, pushing his body well past its limits.

"Hic- 'm SORRY!!~♡ Re-really am- HNGH~" his voice is breaking, it's pitch is so high and whiny as he pleads for a break, for you to slow down. But he knows he doesn't really want that, he wants to be fucked brainless, turned into a stupid little slut, your stupid little slut.

Your thrusts continued their harsh pace, bullying your darling's hole just right. You kept hitting the poor thing's bruised and throbbing prostate, driving him to orgasm for the nth time that night. But.. did you give him permission? No, you didn't.

"Wuh-wait! No 'm sorry- pleashe forgive m-me! AHN!-" his little babbling apology is cut short by yet another hard thrust and another mean bite to his already tender neck. He's biting his lip as you squeeze his pretty hands tighter and pin his body down with an even firmer grip.

No matter how much the pretty thing pleads for you to stop he never uses his safe-word, only screaming out your name like its going to make you forgive him. Well.. you already have forgiven him, but were you going to pass up the opportunity to have your baby crying and begging? No, you weren't. So he's just going to have to take it for a while longer.. ♡

KAEYA, CHILDE, dottore, kaveh, boothill, DOUMA, sunday, DAZAI, NIKOLAI, zhongli, HAWKS, wriothesley, alhaitham, dabi, dan heng, jing yuan, AVENTURINE, dr. ratio, your favs...

[sh1-n0bu]

hehehehheheheee pretty birb bf

winged bf who pick you up into their arms, gently cradling you as if you were made of glass and the finest jewelry as they tell you to “hang on” before unfurling their wings and taking off into the sky

winged bf who show you the beauty of flying, holding you securely in his arms as you take in the way how the world below you looks so small and beautiful. who only has a gentle smile on their faces as you point out the big apartments and parks where you go to for a picnic date. who only has eyes on you as you admire the twinkling lights of the world under you

winged bf who wrap their wing around you whenever you shiver, even if it was one of those annoying sudden ghost bump things you get out of the blue. he’s still worried, let him worry for you in peace😠

winged bf who plucks a feather out of their wing, gently tucking the soft feather into your hair, or on your jacket — wherever you want. he wants you to carry a piece of him to remind you by even though you regularly steal his clothes

winged bf who allows you to be only person to touch his wings, to care for them, to brush them, to just… well, touch them to your heart’s content really. he doesn’t care if you put the tip of his long feather ends over your lips, mimicking a mustache, he doesn’t care if you want to use it as a blanket, he doesn’t care if you wanna use the ends like a cat toy in front of his face. he’ll indulge in your silly shenanigans

winged bf who sheds at least once a year, filling your shared home with the old feathers. who is either smug about it or is apologetic as he helps you broom the excessive fallen feathers. at this point you could probably make a plushie or some sort of art project from the amount of feathers that he shed. to which he objects, saying these are all old and weakened feathers, offering his wing for you to pluck feathers from if you really wanna make an art project

winged bf who hides the two of you under his wing when cuddling in bed, the added layer of his own extra limb making the scene feel more intimate than it is. as if the entire world is blocked out, just a meager existence passing by as you two enjoy this moment of comfort as his wing becomes a curtain to give you two privacy

winged bf who sometimes gets too sexually frustrated and pent up with your curious hands constantly touching the place where his wing is connected to his back, the skin and muscles there are sensitive, making him jump in his seat whenever you do it to tease him

winged bf who knows that it isn’t your fault. you probably don’t know, you don’t have a wing after all, so you don’t know what it means when someone touches your wing. who only calms your worries with a forehead kiss, usually handling his problems himself

winged bf who lets out a whine into his hand, muffling the embarrassing noise as your hand wraps tighter around his cock. he was way too sensitive than usual and it was all because of your wandering hand on his wings. he probably should have explained it all to you but right now, he found his words escaping him, mind melting into a muddled mess as he finds his hands clawing at your own in desperation

winged bf who mumbles out a weak protest of being “s-sensitive! aaah… f-feels too sen—♡︎ sensitive! y-your haaandd♡︎” as his legs start to shake, staring through teary eyes as you coax out yet another climax out of him. his tip an angry cherry red from the continued torture of your hand, his slit weeping precum over and over again despite having just came, getting hard in your hand embarrassingly fast

winged bf who gets tortured by your loving hands for who knows how many times. his eyes are getting blurry and breathing started to hurt. even more, his dick was stinging, twitching every time your tight fist comes up to the tip, letting go briefly as if to taunt him, touching the dripping slit with the tip of your finger and making him whine loudly before fucking his cock into your hand again and again. this was just pure torture, he wanted to escape and run away but you were whispering such nice words to his ears. calling him your good boy, your angel, how you loved being with your beloved like this… could he really ever refuse you?

winged bf who gets more and more twitchy in your gentle hold as your hand picks up speed, the filthy wet noise of his earlier cum being used as a lube filling the room alongside his loud moans. who begs for you to not to touch his wing as it flutters around, dropping a feather or two onto the floor due to moving around so much. who only lets out a pathetic whimper of a “cuz’ ahh haamgh—! [n-name], please! please don’t—♡︎ d-don’t touch them...? they’re sensitive too aanh haagh mfgh♥︎!!” when you ask him why

winged bf who felt like his skin was on fire. everything felt too much but felt too little at the same time, his cock painfully hard again in your hold the moment you ran the tip of your finger over the bane of it. his muscles were getting tense, a strange sense of feeling coiling around in his stomach as you kiss the place where his wing and back connects, shifting around frantically with a chirp or a preen falling from his swollen lips

winged bf who weakly paws at your hand around his dick, wanting to push it away but chasing right after it with his hips as the strange feeling in his stomach just continues to grow worse. it didn’t felt like his usual orgasm, the way he would just fall apart in your hands. it felt more intense and that scared him. who cries out through loud whines and bitten back sobs that “f-feels weird!! aanhh haah [n-name]—! it mnggh♡︎ feels weird! my c-cock feels unnck haah ahh amhh weird♥︎♥︎!!”

winged bf who throws his head back into your shoulder, hands covering his beet red face as a scream tears through his lips, muscles tightening, body going taut in your arms when you gently bit into the base of his wing, your other hand keeping his wing in place so it wouldn’t flutter and knock you away as he fucking squirts into his stomach, painting his muscles and your hand white. who lets out soft chirps and noises, legs twitching and hands struggle to decide whether to hold onto you or to muffle his embarrassing noises

winged bf who only lets out weak noises and chirps when you try to communicate with him, asking him if he was doing alright and if your angel was with you right now after that overstimulating experience. who immediately hides within his wings the moment a sliver of sobriety hits him, too humiliated to even look you in the face because what was that? and why did he felt… so good?

winged bf who gives you a weak glare that you know isn’t exactly serious, pouting at you and complaining about how you messed up his mind and stuff. who lean into your touch as you push his hair away from him, getting to see the still reddened face and the few tear stains on his cheeks. who grumbles about how you have too much power over him when you chuckle, leaning in to plant a kiss to his pouting lips. who chase after you with a demand for a proper kiss this time

⇨ sephiroth, genesis, angeal, hawks, xiao, venti, angel devil, vash, knives, sunday, simeon, raphael + anyone you can think of!

[freakycore]

blade x gn!reader 🎧

IN WHICH... blade discovers that even the smallest touch can leave him completely undone. based on this request.

cw. nipple play, overstimulation, power play (subtle), praise kink, body worship, edging, sub!blade, soft dom!reader.

the room was quiet, save for the rhythmic sound of your fingers tracing over blade’s bare chest. the low hum of the air around you seemed to intensify every brush of your fingertips, each touch sending shivers down his spine. for someone who carried himself with stoicism, it was a rare sight to see him like this—vulnerable, tense, unsure.

he was shirtless, sitting on the edge of the bed, his dark hair falling messily over his eyes. he tried to keep his breathing steady, but it faltered when your hand hovered just a little too long over his chest. his gaze flicked to yours, sharp and questioning, though his usual guarded demeanor had started to crumble.

“you’re tense,” you murmured softly, running your palms across his shoulders, thumbs pressing into his skin in slow, deliberate circles. blade closed his eyes for a moment, allowing himself to sink into the sensation.

but when your hands traveled lower, thumbs brushing against his nipples for the first time, he jolted.

“Ah—!” his eyes shot open, wide with surprise. a soft gasp escaped his lips before he quickly but it back, teeth sinking into his lower lip in an attempt to regain control. his reaction was instant— unexpected. his body tensed beneath your touch, but his chest heaved with shallow breaths.

you paused, looking up at him with a teasing smile. “bladie,” you said slowly, voice laced with amusement. “what was that?”

he scowled, turning his head slightly to avoid your gaze. “nothing. keep going.”

but you weren’t about to let it slide. the curiosity in your expression only grew. gently, you dragged your fingers over his nipples again, pressing donn lightly, rubbing in soft, slow circles.

his reaction was even more intense this time. blade’s body jerked, a low, strangled sound escaping his throat before he clamped his hand over his mouth. his shoulders trembled slightly as if he was holding himself back from fully surrendering to the sensation.

“you’ve never had someone do this before, have you?”

blade shot his head slightly, his hand still covering his mouth, his dark eyes peering at you from besenstiel messy strands of hair.

“no” he finally admitted, voice muffled behind his hand.

your smile grew, lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, “then let me show you how good it can feel.”

with deliberate slowness, you trailed kisses down his neck, your hands never straying far rom his chest. yr thumbs flicked over his nipples again, this time firmer, with more intent. blade’s composure was slipping by the second. his breathing grew erratic, each touch sending jolts of pleasure through his body. his legs trembled slightly, and his back arched involuntarily, as if his body was chasing more.

“you’re sensitive here,” your murmured against his skin, teasing him further. “i wonder how much you can take..”

“t-too much,” he choked out, finally letting his hand fall from his mouth. his voice was strained, his pupils blown wide with desire.

but you didn’t stop. instead, you leaned in closer, your lips brushing over one of his nipples before you gave it a gentle lick. his entire body shuddered violently, and a broken moan escaped him.

“fuck…” blade gasped, his head falling back, exposing the vulnerable line of his throat. his hands gripped the bedsheets beneath him, knuckles turning white.

“feels good?”

“yes,” his voice shaky and desperate, “too good”

“do you want me to stop?”

“no,” he rasped, shaking his head quickly. “don’t stop.”

you smiled, pressing another kiss to his chest.

“good.”

you switched to the other side, your lips closing around his other nipple, sucking gently. balde’s hips bucked up off the bed, a helpless whimper tumbling from his lips. his hand flew to your shoulders, not to push you away, but to ground himself— to keep himself from spiraling too fast.

his reaction was intoxicating. every sound he made, every tremble of his body only made you want to push him further.

"i'm... i'm gonna..." blade couldn't even finish the sentence. he was teetering on the edge already, completely undone by sensations he'd never experienced before. his chest rose and fell rapidly, his breath hitching with every flick of your tongue, every gentle nip of your teeth.

you pulled back for a moment, just to watch him. his cheeks were flushed, his lips parted, his dark eyes glassy with need.

"you look beautiful like this," you said softly, running your fingers through his hair. "completely wrecked."

he groaned, burying his face in your neck, his arms wrapped around you tightly. "don't say that," he murmured, his voice low and husky.

"why not? it's true."

"because..." his breath was warm against your skin, his voice trembling with unspoken vulnerability. "because i cant handle it."

you pressed a kiss to his temple, holding him close. "then let me take care of you, bladie~"

he sighed, finally surrendering completely. "okay," he whispered. "okay."

[st4r-th0ughts]

I like dominant men who whisper praises in your ears as much as the next person but I ALSO adore subby men who whine and whimper like a bitch while begging you to fuck them

[boycock-boycunt-boyslut]

Damn You Erogenous Zones!

sub sunday x dom gn reader warnings/content: teasing, praise kink (sunday receiving), exhibitionism, ruined orgasm, halovian wings function as erogenous zones, no actual penetration lol, sunday is part of the express word count: 1695

request rules

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝

Halovians… beings with striking wings and beautiful halos that're a symbol of the entire species. While the beautiful halo is intangible unless in the dreamscape, the wings are not. The wings are touchable. Very, very touchable.

You've lacked any interest in touching a halovian's wings for your entire life. Other than a passing thought of how the feathers would feel, it just wasn't any of your business.

That was, until, you started dating Sunday, a halovian. Curiosity to feel how his wings felt seemed to have consumed you.

How did his feathers feel? Were they silky or not? Would he enjoy it if you preened him?

Are his wings sensitive?

You kept your curiosity to yourself for several days, until now. The express family all doing their own thing within their own rooms, you and Sunday left alone in the parlor car together. You both sit on one of the red couches, leaning into each other. Your eyes drift from your phone to Sunday, him reading some kind of book from the archives. You look at his hair, the messy silver locks, to his wings. The silver feathers that you've been curious about for days on end. Sunday suddenly moves, now his eyes looking into yours.

"Is something wrong, my dear?" he suddenly speaks,  making you flinch in surprise. He lets out a chuckle at your reaction, his hands gently setting a bookmark in his book and setting it aside.

You recover from the slight shock, "mmm… not really. I just have a bit of a question, if you don't mind."

He nods, urging you to continue.

"Would it be alright if I… touched your wings?"

A sound of surprise comes from Sunday. His wings curl into themselves slightly. Maybe you said something you shouldn't have?

"It's alright if you don't want to, Sunday! I've just been curious about it, you know," you try to explain.

Sunday's eyes widen, raising up his hands, "no, no it's alright, my love. I just didn't expect you to ask the question," he looks around the parlor car, as if someone is hiding away from you two, "a halovian's wings are quite… sensitive. Since we're out in the open and someone could see, it's a bit…"

Oh…

Ohhhh…

That's one of your questions answered.

A mischievous smile spreads across your face, "Sensitive you say? Well… Dan Heng is in the archives, Miss Himeko and Mr. Yang are in their rooms, March and the twins are forcing Pom-Pom to try on outfits in March's room. I'm sure we'll be alright."

Sunday lets out a shaky sigh. He sets his book beside him. His wings stretch out, nonverbally inviting you to touch them. You reach out, your fingertips about to brush against the feathers. Your eyes dart to Sunday's hooded ones.

"Are you sure it's alright, dove?

The pet name makes Sunday's face heat up, his voice sounding a bit weaker than previously, "of course, dear."

You reach forward, fingertips coming in contact with his feathers. You stroke the silky feathers of Sunday's carefully. Your fingers dance on the edges of them. Engrossing yourself in the feeling of the feathers. Even with those slightest touches have a deep blush spreading across the halovian's face. It brings a smile to you as you continue on.

Ever since Sunday had joined the express, you saw the condition of his feathers improve. Sunday tried to always keep his feathers perfect when he was in Penacony, but the stress of being the head had made him pluck his feathers out. It was something he had confided in you after you had gotten together. Your hand drifts closer to the base of Sunday's wings as you lean closer to his ear. Your breath fans against Sunday's ears. The man lets out a gasp, his thighs rubbing together.

"You're so handsome, you know that?" your words float into Sunday's ear as he lets out a whimper. The praise seemingly getting him even more excited. It makes you continue.

"You're so, so good for me, my dove. Letting me do this to you…"

"W-wait- love-" Sunday pants out as you rub more vigorously on his wing.

You pout at him, still continuing your ministrations. You lean closer to Sunday, your other hand reaching towards the untouched wing. To avoid an awkward position, you swing your leg over Sunday's lap to situate yourself better. You settle onto his lap, both of your hands touching Sunday's wings. The new position makes Sunday groan. He leans back against the couch, his hands reaching to your hips. Though, your voice stops him.

"No touching, dove. Not me or yourself. You can keep your hands to yourself, right?" you question him with an innocent voice.

He lets out a whimper, but nods to you.

"Good boy," you give a kiss to Sunday's nose as you lean closer, Sunday jolting as you do so.

His hands grip onto the couch like a lifeline as you continue. You continue to touch his feathers. Your hand on his right wing touches the longest feathers farthest from the base. Running your fingers along the silkiness of them, enjoying the texture of them. You massage the base of his left wing, feeling the smaller feathers and his piercings with the other.

"How'd it feel getting piercings on your wings when they're this," you emphasize your words by pressing against the base of Sunday's left wing, "sensitive?"

"I- it-" Sunday tries to speak. However, he's cut off by the sound of his own pants unzipping. Your right hand brushing over his hard-on.

"I mean, look at you. You're hard already and I haven't even tried to touch you here."

Your teasing makes Sunday close his eyes from embarrassment. You lean forward, a smirk on your face as you give a kiss to the tip of his nose. Sunday's eyes slowly open as you press your foreheads together.

Sunday always looks adorable when he's desperate. It's not something he'd show everyone, after all. This more submissive, way less controlling side. When he gets like this, pliant and willing to accept everything you'd do, you can't help but fall in love with him more. You study his face more. His hooded eyes now clear with a want for your touch and a need for release. His wings that look more than a bit messy because of your musings with them. The deep red blush that decorates his usually composed face.

"You're beautiful, you know that, Sunday?" your voice is softer as you speak.

Sunday's eyes widen at your words. He leans back, back pressing into the couch, from surprise at your words. You feel him twitch at the praise. Your right hand is still pressed against the prominent bulge held back by his underwear. It makes you smile. He's always been weak to praise.

You continue talking as you pull his underwear down enough, "My good boy, my precious boy. So perfect to me. I love you so, so much, you know?"

His cock springs out from its confines. Sunday lets out a shaky gasp as the cool air of the parlor car hits him. You lift your hand up to his stomach, slowly running it down. You feel the material of his turtleneck as you keep going down, brushing against his feathery bush as you reach his cock. Your hand wraps around him. His tip is red and irritated from all of the stimulation and no relief. It makes you give a teasing smile to him. Perhaps another time, you'd be on your knees to blow him and let him come in your mouth until he can't anymore. However, this time, you want to tease him as much as you can.

Your hand does languid pumps while the other continues to stroke his wings. Gently running around the base and earrings. Those seem to be the most sensitive places. It makes Sunday jump when you touch him in those places unexpectedly and his cock twitches if you do it long enough. You'll definitely use this as an advantage in the coming days together.

Sunday's whimpers and gasps start to turn into full-on moans as you continue to jerk him off and stroke his wings. The pleasure from the sensitive areas seeming to send his mind into overdrive. No fully formed words come out of his mouth, just repeats of please, please, please and your name. You speed your hand up, leaning your head close to Sunday's ear and wing again. You open your mouth, breath fanning over his ear again. Though, you say nothing.

"Ah-!" Sunday lets out a yelp as you bite into his wing. It makes him curl into you, hands now grasping onto your clothes. A frown falls onto your face.

You pull your hands back just as Sunday starts to match your pumps with thrusts of his own. Sunday looks up to you, uncharacteristically flustered and disheveled. The fact only you can make him like this and see him like this makes you smile once again.

"Why did you pull away?" Sunday asks, "I was just about to come…"

"I told you not to touch, didn't I?" you tilt your head at him.

Sunday's eyes widen as he realizes what he had done. His wings droop and he looks guilty. You let out an amused sigh and lean forward to give him a kiss.

"I'll give you everything you want and more later, alright, dove?"

He gives a nod to you as you pull away, no doubt already thinking of the things you'd do to him later. Maybe that's you simply projecting, though.

You help Sunday fix himself back up in case anyone enters the parlor car. Tucking himself back into his underwear, having him put his pants back on. You fix his hair and let him fix his own wings. He looks as good as before you two started to mess around just before someone enters the parlor car.

To answer the questions of the past you, a halovian's wings- at least Sunday's- are silky to the touch and very sensitive. Maybe you could experiment more with Sunday's wings when it's later in the day.