#to remove that flap of skin like? under your lip

[tangledinink]

... the fuck you mean you've had too many teeth broski.

OH well when I was like eight I had an extra tooth that was trying to grow upwards, like, into my nose, so they had to go in and surgically remove that one. smh. it fucked up all my other teeth somehow so then i got braces immediately after. i have really good mouth genetics actually.

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Four to Tango (poly!Mates Bat Boys)

Pairing(s): Rhysand x Reader, Cassian x Reader, Azriel x Reader

Warnings: foursome, smut, just a reason to create smut where three gorgeous fucking men rearrange your organs, cunnilingus, fingering, p in v, never ending orgasms lol, overstimulation, all three of them are utter teases, polyamorous mates, no jealousy, rhys loves to watch his brothers fuck you stupid, my emotional support bat boys, i desperately need them rn, foursomes are hard to write ngl 🫠

Words: 5836

Summary: Three of them at the same time? You may not make it out alive.

Life before your three mates had never consisted with as much sex as it does now. In fact you were a virgin when you met the Illyrian trio. Not for lack of trying to get into a relationship. There were other concerns for you to attend to that distracted you from finding a partner.

Then Azriel literally fell into your lap. Followed by Cassian descending from the sky while laughing at the other who was blushing furiously and trying to scramble off of you with a string of apologies. Rhysand, with a flap of his wings touches down to the ground with an entertained grin. Until his violet eyes noticed you. Really noticed you. Almost reading into your soul.

Had it really been only four months since then?

Thinking about it had you blushing into your pillow. Four months of mind shattering orgasms and lavished with never ending affection. You must have really been good in your past life to receive these three as a reward.

Rhys shifts beside you. Voice husky from sleep but practically purring when he wraps his arms around you. "Seems like its been longer than four months, huh?"

His palms flatten against your midsection. Warmth immediately spreading across the plane of your skin. You wiggle closer to him and in reply, Rhys buries his face in the juncture of your neck. His lips pepper small kisses along the soft skin of your jugular.

He took turns with Cassian and Azriel as to who spent the night with you. It was only fair. You told them that you cared for them all equally and it didn't matter to you. You'd accept whatever they could agree upon without there being any jealousy.

Rotating was tricky in the beginning. Giving them each the same amount of attention to prevent feelings of being left out. And maybe you were starting to get greedy with their love because you couldn't help but feel incomplete without the other two when you were in one's bed.

Your inner musing catches Rhysand's attention; seemingly waking him up. The arm laying on top of you is removed when he sits up. Did you unintentionally offend him with your thoughts?

"Would you be interested in all three of us here?" He questions.

You turn to address the high lord of the Night Court. Beautifully and sinfully sexy the way he leans on his elbow to gaze at you. Tousled black hair shifting across his brow. What an alluring sigh the made. Tattoos and scars marking the smooth surface of his tan skin.

"All three of you in this bed?" It had been done before when you wanted to cuddle with all three of your mates. Rhys' bed nearly broke, not large enough to support two extra heavy frames.

"More than that." Rhysand's thumb brushes a stray hair out of your face. The depth of his tone had a warmth shooting down to your core. Thighs press together, you melt under his attention. "All three of us feasting upon you. At the same time." A growling undertone hits your ears. Your breathing becomes shallow as he holds your gaze.

You gulp, mind already racing when you whimper out "A-All of you?"

Rhys reads each and every one of your dirty thoughts, his lips curling sinisterly. "Can I take that as a 'yes', love?"

A furious blush overheats your cheeks and the tips of your ears. "I-I. . . How would that even work out?"

He leans in and nips at your already burning shell of your ear "You leave that to us."

Ever loving to tease you, he leaves with that promise hanging in the air. Claiming he had work to do but that he'd see you for lunch. For a while you lay in bed, thinking of the dark glint in your mate's eyes.

Surely, all three of them would be way too much for you to handle. Each of them were terrifyingly well-endowed. Especially Azriel. It took several tries to get more than the head of his cock inside of you. In the end he had to ease it in slowly over several dates until you could fully sheath him.

It became your hyperfixation throughout the day. As you went about the House of Wind to when you were out in the town market.

When you bump into Mor back at the townhouse, she manages to make you squeal on what Rhys had brought up earlier that morning.

Mor lets out a low, impressed whistle. "You have got to be the luckiest female in all of Prythian. What are you sweating about?"

"I can barely handle one of them at a time, Mor. I fear they'll kill me. Death by cock. I don't want that on my tombstone."

"Death by cock doesn't sound too bad." she hums but it turns into a snort when she catches your distressed expression. "Quit fretting. They'll take good care of you."

Chewing on your bottom lilp you knew you probably came off as silly to her.

Mor's hand caresses your upper arm. In a short amount of time, Mor had become the big sister you never knew you needed. She became your confidant and would keep all of your secrets; take them to the grave if required. "They're dumb males but they love you. Never in a million years would they ever dream of doing anything to hurt you."

That was clear to you since day one. The Cauldron destined all three of them to be your mates for a reason.

And it could be fun.

Who were you kidding, you knew it would be fun. Having sex with them individually always reduced your bones to pure pudding. They were overly generous lovers. Always making sure you climaxed first. Treating you not like a queen but a divine entity to be worshipped. Their faces, your thrones.

Talking with Mor did you good. You felt absurd at your previous concern. This would be the experience of a lifetime. Getting to love all three of your mates at once had you giddy.

After Mor leaves, you're constantly checking the clock. Almost lunch time. That meant your boys would be home at any minute. Your heart felt like a energetic bird in a cage, banging against its bars in desperation to get out.

You debate going upstairs and changing your underwear to something sexier when you stand to head toward the stairs, that's when the front door opens. Poking your head out from around the corner, you confirm it to be your boys. You were still getting used to the feeling of the mental connection that connected you to your three mates. Cassian and Az are in the middle of a conversation behind Rhysand when the trio walks in. Rhys grins at you before grabbing the attention of the Illyrians who stop their chatter.

Never one to be subtle, Cassian struts past them and pulls you out into the entry hallway. He swoops down to capture your lips with his, picking you off your feet unintentionally. His kisses always took all the air out of you, making your head delightfully light and floating. Cassian's eyes hold specks of glittering gold when he returns you to the ground.

"Welcome home." you breathily greet him. You swear Cassian puffs his chest out like a proud parrot every time he can get your vision to go starry with his kisses.

"You should've moved in a long time ago. I like coming home to you." Cassian's voice is smooth, deep as if purring.

Rhysand chuckles at your swooning thoughts toward the general. "Easy Cass. Get her any more riled up and we may not make it to the bedroom in time."

The cool caress of Azriel's shadows slithering up your legs accelerates the 'lub dub' of your chest.

"Aw, am I exciting you princess?" The general gets an immediate reaction when he picks up the scent of your arousal dripping from between your legs. Dark delight curls Cassian's lips.

Rhysand and Azriel appear to smell you as well. Hunger straightens their backs and their pupils blowing out. Azriel's serpentine shadows squeeze the fat of your upper thigh, another prods curiously at your clothed pussy, asking for permission inside. "Now sweetling, you wouldn't want anyone to come upon us and ruin our fun. Be a good girl and head up those stairs."

"You heard him." Rhysand reinforces Azriel's command when you hesitate, your face beet red. His chin tilts up, gesturing to the staircase on your right.

They looked like three wolves before they pounce on the poor unsuspecting lamb. You go up the stairs on wobbly legs. Every inch of you tingled with anticipation feeling the heat of the boys at your back. They're basically panting behind you, forced to watch the sway of your hips and ass as you go up one step and then another. Its a race to the bedroom door. You're the one to twist the knob, but its the flat of three palms against the door's smooth frame that shove it wide open. Cassian scoops you up, the ground slipping out from under you.

Cassian twirls you around before settling you down on the mattress like the treasure you were. If he possessed a tail, you bet all the riches in Prythian that it would be wagging fast. His lips are placing kisses all along your exposed legs, having flipped your dress skirts up. You uncontrollably giggle when he reaches the upper insides of your thighs, so close to your core.

You catch Rhysand's dark chuckle, the door closing shut follows after.

"Impatient as ever, Cass." Azriel comments and moves to one side of Rhys' bed while Rhysand stalks toward the other.

Hovering over you with his hair tickling your face, Cassian smirks and gifts you one last kiss before allowing you to sit up. With your three mates in front of you, you couldn't help feeling a little shy. Individually, you'd become sexually confident with them. But to have three pairs of lustful eyes all focused in on you. . .

You fidget and squirm, feeling the space between your legs flutter. "S-So. . . how is this going to work?"

"Nervous?" Rhysand reaches his hand out to gently stroke a lock of your hair.

"A little. I mean, to have the Night Court's high lord, general and spymaster all together is a bit intimidating. But I trust all of you." You grip Rhys' hand and move it towards your lips to kiss his knuckles; swearing that you hear him sharply inhale as you do so. You spoke the truth when you said you trusted them. They had you feeling confident and bold with the lavish amounts of love that they bestowed you with each day. How they made you feel like you could take on the very world itself as long as they were by your side.

Letting go of Rhysand's hand, you start to undress; overtly cognizant of their heated stares. Fully naked, you decide that Azriel's been so patient in waiting for attention. He grins when you crawl onto his lap and cup his jaw to pull him into a fervant kiss. His wings twitch and the shadows that perpetually clung to him push you closer against his form. In the background, you hear Rhysand and Cassian shuffle around. You wonder if they'd talked about this often.

"Oh, we have." Rhysand grins. "Many times. Sweetling, you have no idea the of the plans we've devised."

Azriel bites your lip in the moment making you gasp. Those powerful hands of his grip your ass tightly, forcefully moving you in a grinding motion against his hardening cock. Not caring that a smear of your arousal shined on the fabric of his pants.

"All the ways we can absolutely devour you."

Behind you, sharp teeth graze your shoulder making you squirm even more on Azriel's lap.

"The delicious thing that you are, it was necessary to. . . coordinate our moves." They move from your shoulder to your neck.

Your moans are unrestricted, they simply go directly into Az's mouth. He greedily feasts on them, tendrils of shadows softly gliding down your calf and to your ankles.

Now, Az.

You're not spared even a second before you're flipped around. Azriel takes hold of your wrists, splaying you out in front of Rhysand and Cassian. Their tattoos free from the confines of their shirts. And of course their well endowed shafts were already hard.

Rhysand is on his stomache, creeping closer to your pussy lips to brush his mouth against it before nuzzling with the tip of his nose at that little bundle of nerves that had the muscles in your thighs twitching. Teasing at first until his tongue lazily toys with it.

Azriel has you completely restrained. Nowhere for you to run or hide.

Fingers rub along your labia that was coated in your slick. Rhysand uses his fingers to gently pull your lower lips apart.

Your hazy gaze falls on Cassian who is gently stroking himself. He sends you a wolfish grin when he catches you. "Feel good, princess?"

All you can give out in response is a kiltered mewl. Rhysand was making his circles larger and larger around your clit. The tip of his finger starts to tickle at your entrance.

"A-Aahh-" Head lolling back, it falls against Azriel's shoulder. He's kissing the length of your neck, definitely leaving love bites.

Inch by inch, Rhysand inserts his index finger in you and ever so gently begins to curl his finger from inside of you. It's featherlight but enough to send an electric jolt through you and up your throat. Between your legs, Rhysand is constantly changing his speed and pressure. You squirm when Rhysand easily slips another finger inside of you and picks up his tongue speed on your clit.

You're trying your best to gyrate your hips to a near grind against Rhysand's face but Azriel's pesky shadows simply wouldn't allow it.

"Please!" You moan with another pathetic thrust of your hips.

Rhysand's lips smirk against your pussy.

"What do you say, general? Should the high lord let our well mannered lady come?" croons Azriel as he nips at the soft spots on your neck.

The tip of Cassian's cock is blushing with the most perfect bead of precum like a pearl. His lips curl in a smile when he catches your pretty eyes staring at him. He makes a show and swoops his thumb over the tip of his cock, dilated pupils observing how your mouth unconsciously opens with want to take in Cassian's member. And he would love to shove his cock down your throat, but that would have to be another time.

Instead, Cassian chooses to cock his head in scrutiny. "Too soon, don't you think?"

You desperately shake your head in disagreement but behind you Azriel laughs. "You're a cruel bastard aren't you?"

Shrugging indifferently before turning a wicked smirk your way, Rhysand returns to teasingly feasting on you as you squirm to shove your pussy closer to his mouth. He reduced his tongue strocks to pathetic kitten licks that had you wanting more.

Replacing Azriel's hands was the cool grip of his shadows as his hands now grip your tits. Scarred finger pads toy with your nipple until both are erect. Between your legs Rhys continues running the flat of his tongue up and down, dealing little rolls of the tip of his tongue against your clit occasionally. Just enough to keep you on the edge.

You're a whimpering, moaning mess. Half lidded eyes are barely able to make out the now fuzzy image of Cassian as he strolls to your other side. He puts one knee on the bed and leaning on his hands for support, he bites at your free tit that isn't being tortured by Azriel's loving pinches. His mouth latches on instantly.

Focus all over the place, you're lost in your own heady bliss and while you were denied your orgasm, your whole body was trembling from your mates' individual actions.

When Rhysand sits up, you nearly scream in frustration and pull at your shadowy restraints. "No!!"

They laugh at you and the bucking of your hips against empty air. You find yourself being manhandled once again, your tummy pressed against the mattress with your ass high in the air. Instead of Azriel's cock springing in front of your face its' Cass'.

Not needing any instructions, you take him into your mouth. You feel Cassian twitch against your tongue.

"See what a good girl she is, Cass? Come on. She deserves to come." the High Lord runs his hand along your flank, giving the globes of your ass a small squeeze. "Accidentally" slipping his thumb past your pussy lips.

Just to show Cassian what a good girl you were, you swallow more of his girth down your throat and hum. The vibrations that jolt up his cock has Cassian jerking his hips with a groan and threading his fingers into your hair. Rolling his head back, Cassian feels the walls of your throat tighten.

Through the warming of his face, Cassian trains his eyes back on your face.

"I think to sweeten the general up, perhaps our good girl should make the general come." You barely hear Azriel's smooth voice over the pounding of blood vessels in your ears. The entirety of the bottom of your face is covered in your own saliva and Cassian's precum. Your breathing was labored as you even struggled to inhale through your nose. Determination burning you up from the inside as you enjoy Cassian's cacophony of moans. Fueling the inferno in your core that has you wantonly feverish.

Obscenities made up of wet gagging noises coming from you and Cassian's own erratic growls fill Rhysand's master bedroom.

If anyone were to walk by outside-

"Don't think of that." Lightly scolds Rhysand. "There is no world except for the one in this room." His tongue licks from your clit to your perineum making you shiver and moan with your mouth full of Cassian.

There's a tug from Cassian's hand in your hair, pulling you back to the present matter at hand. He grinds his hips against your face. You're more than happy to forget about any sense of decorum or shame.

Your thoughts please Rhysand as he practically purrs against your pussy before he starts a full on make-out session with your lower lips. Your pitiable moans that send pleasurable quivers through Cassian's cock was enough to have his grip tighten in warning before shoving you off. Immediately follows the ribbon of cum shooting from his tip

"F-Fff-Fucking good girl" Cass' tone sounds like a curse but his red cheeks and heaving chest told you plenty. In a appreciative gesture, you run your fingers through the tantalizing streak of his happy trail, skating over the ridge of his cum gutters and up the mountain of abs.

It's all you can do as Rhysand spears that exquisite tongue of into your pussy while also stimulating your clit.

Alright, the general has spoken, sweetling. I'll give you a big reward.

Rhysand makes sure to keep his hands attentive to your messy, wet pussy when he pulls his face away. From the mess you left on his hands, Rhys uses it to coat his cock and and gently taps the tip against your entrance.

All the while Cassian brushes a few strands of hair out of your face before cupping it in his massive, callused hands. He always held you like you were a fragile egg. Intently watching every twitch of your face as Rhysand slowly pushes the blunt end of his cock into you. Inch by inch, he sheathes his member; like a sword with its scabbard. Your mouth parts, forming a soft 'o' shape as you feel your gummy walls accommodate his girth. For even Rhysand its a snug fit but being patient rewards him. Strong hands keep your hips in place.

Need to make sure I stretch you out a little before you take Az.

You're surprised you have a bit of your whits with you as you numbly think Where is Az?

"I'm right here, princess." Azriel sits on the bed once again, this time matching everyone else's nudity.

Again you're taken aback by how truly lucky you are when you gaze at Azriel and Cassian with half-lidded eyes. Cassian was already at half-mast in a matter of seconds thanks to the way your tits bounced when Rhysand fluidly slid his cock in and out. The powerful lines that composed their physique. Each muscle a testament to the trials and tribulations they have survived through. Your mates.

"Yes." He picks up his pace while swiping his thumb over your clit. "We're all your's sweetling." Heat radiating off of Rhysand makes your back start to sweat. Especially when he leans his forehead to press against your shoulder as he nearly folds over you, his thrusts becoming more animalistic as he neared the pinnacle of his own pleasure.

It's ridiculous how hard Rhysand can make you come. Overwhelming that your own small body could hardly contain it in your physical vessel. You can't help the tears that warm the backs of your eyes as you feel a thousand stars burst from inside of you. Stardust blurs your vision as your pussy walls clamp down on Rhysand mercilessly in your orgasm.

You're grateful that Rhysand solely is keeping you up. Your own body fails you as muscles spasm and every bare inch of you grows overly sensitive to Rhys' tightening grip.

Searing heat fills your core. The only sign that Rhysand has reached his climax as well besides the vicious bites he leaves all over your shoulders.

Your boys laugh when you face plant into the mattress, a heaving mess already and Cassian nor Azriel have had their fun yet. You will your arms to lift you up.

Red faced Rhysand takes pity on you and wraps one arm around your midsection to help you at least sit up enough to focus on the other two males whose chest are heaving just as much as yours'. Azriel's pupils have swelled till they took over his natural eye color. They'd look terrifying if it weren't for their raging cocks.

Well. . . the sight of those impressive members were slightly terrifying but also thrilling. Surprised when you felt your sticky pussy clench with need. Spoiled your cunt had become. Utterly spoiled by your three indulgent mates.

Cauldron grant you strength.

"Az and Cass will take care of you while I get you some water." Rhysand breathily tells you as he attempts to catch his own breath. You pout slightly when he moves to leave. He kisses your lips to placate the pout. "I'll be back. You'll be good. Won't you?"

"Always." You beam up at him. It has Rhysand melting, debating on staying and sending for one of the wraiths to fetch you water, but he knew you loathe the idea of anyone hearing your moans besides your mates.

With another promise of being prompt, Rhysand takes a second to at least put some pants on before leaving the room.

That's when Cassian unexpectedly pounces on you, pushing you back down against the mattress as you squeal your surprise. His lips are all over you, nips and kisses alike.

"Remember, we have to wait for Rhys." Azriel pipes up much to Cassian's chagrin as he shoots the spymaster a tampered down glare. While he's not too bothered with waiting, that doesn't mean he wasn't going to play around with you a little bit.

"Yeah yeah I know." Cass grins, his face leans down to hover over your tits before he takes on in his mouth. His teeth gently tug at your nipple making you warble. He hollows out his cheeks to give it a good suckle. "You'd probably do with a good tit sucking, Az." Comments Cassian once he removes his lips with a loud 'pop' noise.

"Then quit hogging them." Grins Azriel and pushes his brother's face away from your chest. Actually he nearly shoves Cassian off of you in his haste to latch his lips around your pert and abused bud. Imprints of Cassian's front teeth could be made out on the delicate skin of your breasts. Cassian doesn't put up a fight and watches Azriel swiftly clamber atop of you.

His giant wings block out the rest of the room, encasing you so that you could only focus on the spymaster.

He slithers down onto his tummy, his face making a slow ascent to your tits. Biting at the undersides, soft and tender and already baring red marks from Cassian's previous nibbling. Azriel's palm goes to cup at your heated pussy, still slick from your orgasm and leaking even more now with their touches.

You grind against his bare hand, absolutely drooling at the deep growl that rolls through him when you do so. Feel your lower lips spread against his palm, Azriel lets out another debauched groan that was now being muffled thanks to your nipple in his mouth.

Wrapping your arms around Azriel's head, you pull him closer to your chest and weave your fingers into his dark hair. In response his suckling becomes louder, the sensation shooting a thrill to your pussy. You coo praises with your head thrown back and your legs wrapping around Azriel's waist.

"Uh-uh sweetheart." Azriel lifts his face when he feels you trying to wiggle onto his cock. "Cassian has to stretch you out next."

"I've taken you before though. I can do it without any prep." Complaining, you're basically whimpering when Azriel peels himself completely off of you. You want to bite your tongue off for even saying anything.

"Looks like she's about to have a tantrum." Teases Rhysand when he opens the bedroom door to slink back in, but it was true. Azriel had worked you back up and now you were in need of another cock inside of you.

At least he's able to stop your pouting when you hands you water. You didn't realize how parched you were until the first splash of cold water hits your tongue. Guzzling it down, you're not paying attention to your bat boys having a silent conversation. One that you were not allowed in on.

Rhysand winks. Distracting you from Cassian sneaking up and lifting you high up onto his shoulders, smashing his face right into your pussy. Your fingers claw at his shoulders for stability as you feel yourself teeter to and fro.

"Cass!" Squealing, you can't enjoy his tongue fucking into you since you're doing your best to not fall.

Doesn't help when you can feel the vibrations of Cassian's low chuckle.

Its hard to forget just how powerful your mates are. Reminded consistently by their massive muscles. Cassian's hands never quivered in holding you up above his face.

You shiver and go slack jawed.

There you go.

Shadows help you to steady yourself on Cassian's hands, giving him your absolute trust.

When he's satisfied with how wet you are, Cassian slowly moves you down onto his lap. Each inch of him you took in, you let out sweet little cries. Lewd squelches emit from your singing pussy, Azriel and Rhysand watch with rapt attention at the general's cock splitting you open.

Your high lord nudges at his spymaster.

Azriel obeys and right in the middle of a cry provoked by a particularly hard thrust on Cassian's end, Azriel shoves his cock into your wide open mouth. The back of your throat is punched by the tip of Azriel's cock, enticing your gag reflex to choke you. Corners of your mouth ache when your lips have to widen even more in order to take Azriel's fat dick. Your eyes burn with dewey tears and a silver string of saliva dribbles down your chin.

Cassian continues to fuck you harder and your muffled cries has Azriel's spine tingling and his cock twitching in your mouth as his hips continue to thrust in and out.

Even with Cassian supporting all of your weight, you find your thighs trembling and hips quaking every smack of Cassian's pelvis meeting your ass.

Surprisingly, Azriel's own rhythm matched that of Cassian's. They really did plan this out. Impressive.

"We had to plan things out. You could get hurt otherwise." Rhysand replies. He couldn't explain the immense arousal it gave him to watch his brothers spitroast you. To watch the veins in your throat bulge and your red face streaked as pleasure induced tears slip down your cheeks. Quite the sight to behold and the most beautiful image in the world to Rhys.

The same time your head was bobbing, so was your ass as Cassian lets out possessive growls that outwardly had him appearing vicious. Cass' grip on your thighs told him otherwise, it was one of assured strength that he would not let you fall.

He knew you always thought yourself to be the lucky one in the relationship. Lucky to brag of your three strong mates that could rule all of Prythian's courts if they developed the taste for it.

In all honesty, they were the ones who felt like the luckiest bastards.

A mate wasn't something they ever thought would be bestowed to them. Blood trailed behind them. Brutal childhood years that physically and mentally scarred them for life.

You were their reward for all those horrible years.

And he couldn't imagine sharing you with anyone else but his lifelong friends that were basically brothers to him.

You're slapped across the face as another climax seizes control of your limbs. Spasming against Cassian's face that was now utterly demolished by your slick that gave his lips a shiny glaze.

You don't give Azriel an opportunity to pull his member out of your mouth before he too is creaming against your tongue. Thick, long ropes that coats your esophagus.

Abruptly, Azriel rips his cock out of your mouth as Cassian flips you onto your back and with one hand, holds your knee ditch in place and truly pounds into your pussy that had your tits bouncing uncontrollably from the velocity. He's smacking your wet, overly sensitive clit using the flat of his fingers. You shriek, feeling your back swallowed up by the mattress below you. Cassian could crush all of your bones and you wouldn't give a flying fuck in that minute.

With one last, devastating thrust, Cassian spills his warmth into you.

Giving yourselves extra time to come down from yet another post-coital high, Cassian slips out from you and gently places your legs back down. He pats your flank like you're a brood mare. "Atta girl."

Unable to conjure the energy to laugh, instead you wheeze out a scoff and half-heartedly swat at his arm.

He casts Rhysand and Azriel a teasing grin. "She's ready."

Azriel, your usually sweet and gentle Azriel suddenly has a predatory glint in his eyes. "Spread her."

Working together, Rhysand and Cassian grab hold of one leg each; parting them so Azriel can lewdly examine his prey.

"Look at this." Azriel hums and swipes his finger along the slit of your pussy, collecting a bit of Cassian's cum on his index finger. "Already stuffed. I wonder if my cock can even fit in there with both Rhys' and Cass' cum."

Despite your heated blush that made you dizzy, your lips quirk up. "The only way to find out is to try."

With all of the mixed liquids coating your cunt, it was pretty easy for Azriel to slide half of his cock into you. The rest he eased in with a few rocks of his hips. A growl that comes from the pit of his stomach is ripped out of Azriel, his wings flaring out when he takes you. His brothers continue to possess a secure hold on your thighs as their eyes focus in on the contorting features of your face.

The pressure of his cock is enough to pin you down. Overwhelming even but you'd taken his shaft before and you were determined to do it again.

In order to do so, you will your body into complete, ragdoll obedience that relaxes your entire body; even the death grip the walls of your cunt had on Azriel. It garnered him more wiggle room to start bullying his cock further into you.

Rhys actually breathes out a soft laugh "Wow. . . is that what being 'cock drunk' looks like?"

Cassian groans and using his free hand begins to fist his dick. "Cock drunk on Az's cock, princess?"

Unable to laugh, instead Az's lips twitched into a grin; one of his hands roam to stroke your cheek. You're thoughtlessly nodding along to whatever Cassian was saying. All you understood were the two words "Az's" and "cock".

For a second, you really do fear that Azriel will split you in half when his length pushes past the sensitive roof of your pussy and rams its head against your cervix.

Each love tap had your toes curling inward and your eyes rolling back.

Another?

Greedy girl. Do you even know how many times you've come?

You squeal, hips meeting Azriel's in perfect synchronicity. They can taunt you all they wanted. As much as they made you cock drunk, the three of them were completely pussy whipped.

In retaliation Rhysand gives your nipple a harsh tug. "You'll pay for that later, sweetling."

Exhausted was an understatement.

All four of you lay in a disgusting heap of limbs and collective sweat. Half of Cassian's body hung off the edge of the bed. He didn't mind. At least he was able to cool off even his foot was basically touching the ground and put a few inches between himself and Azriel. You lay between the spymaster and the high lord. Waters were retrieved after the fun was officially over.

Now you lay with your mates sated and unspeakably happy.

Your inner musings have Rhysand smiling. He turns your face toward him using but his fingers on your chin. "We live to make you happy." Rhysand languidly kisses you, enjoying the flavor upon your lips. A combination of everyone's juices. They would help you get to the bath. Eventually.

"I'm taking it the princess was satisfied?" Cheekily grinned Cassian.

You laugh though it costs your body to wince in slight discomfort. "Yes. If you didn't notice, I quite enjoyed myself."

Azriel nuzzles his nose along the length of your neck. Mentally you make a note that you'd have to visit the dressmaker so that they could alter your gowns to make them cover your neck and chest. Without context, many would assume the red marks all over your body was a sign of disease. Showing up to a professional meeting with hickeys all over your body wouldn't bode well either.

"Lets try double penetration next time!" Chimes Cassian.

Mother be good, these boys were certainly going to be the death of you.

@enchantingcupcakecollectionfan @a-courtof-azriel

[motimatcha]

lust

hazbin hotel Adam x fem!reader smut: vaginal sex; unprotected sex; cum inside (creampie)

Adam is breathing heavily and both his and your chests are barely heaving. But Adam smiles, and you smile too; the hand that was squeezing your thigh a moment ago moves to Adam's gray hair to push the long strands back from his bangs — individual hairs still stuck to his sweaty forehead, but did not spoil the overall picture.

As his hand returned to its original, almost rightful place, the rhythmic thrusts were restored. Your eyes roll back on their own accord and your head falls back onto the soft pillows; With your hand you grab Adam’s hand so as not to simply move out of your place. You can feel how his muscles tense from your actions and your appearance, which excites him and makes him move his hips harder, changing your usual leisurely pace.

Adam grabs you with his other hand under your thigh, practically changing the angle of entry of his dick into your womb, causing the head of his dick to press on your pleasure point each time, and the shaft rubs against your clitoris, swollen with arousal. Your other hand lands on his toned stomach, either in a weak attempt to slow his movements, or to feel the movement of the muscle under your fingers. But all you can feel is the pleasure of friction both inside and out, and Adam's hot skin. His barely audible chuckle touches your ears as he leans over your body and kisses the valley between your breasts.

The movements become jerky, chaotic, even sweeping as Adam gets close to cumming. He never bothered to pull out of you to cum, and you never denied yourself the pleasure of feeling his cum inside you. There was something special about this that you both preferred not to talk about out loud, exchanging only lustful glances.

Adam flaps his wings several times as he comes, causing light objects on the nightstands and chest of drawers to fly to the floor. Your fingers, nails, scratch his stomach and arm, leaving wounds on his skin. Later they will definitely make themselves felt with itchy pain, but for now Adam only watches with admiration as golden droplets of blood appear on the wounds that appear and as his sperm flows out of your vagina, leaving a ring on his dick.

He removes his hand from your grip to lace your fingers together before settling down on his side next to you. Your eyes are closed and a blush appears on your cheeks; you try to catch your breath and after about a minute, when your breathing comes to relative calm, you open your eyes to turn your head towards Adam and meet his languid golden eyes. The kiss happens by itself: you just put your other hand on his cheek, Adam just gently almost purrs, and you just touch your lips to each other — the kiss is soft and tender, with an intimate and vulgar smack and a viscous string of saliva.

Adam pulls your hand so you can collapse onto his body and ride his cock. With one hand, the man touches your thigh, helping you to align yourself with the head of his erect dick, after which he moves higher, to your waist, to partially guide the process. Moans escape your swollen lips as you begin to move, and Adam feels like he’s ready to cum again right now, just from the sight of you riding his cock, but the desire to prolong the pleasure was as great as the sexual one. Adam tries to hold out for a long time, but you can tell just by one nervous squeeze of your waist with his fingers that this “long” will soon end and a new portion of his sperm will paint the walls of your womb white.

In pursuit of your own high, your free hand touches the clitoris, creating additional pressure and friction; Adam decides to leave it to you and begins to move his hips to meet you, practically driving his dick into your body. He rises sharply and, wrapping his arms around your body, sets an insanely fast pace that sends a hot tingling sensation through your body. Your wings shake nervously and point upward as you reach your climax and then collapse into your man's arms as he cums deep inside you.

Barely half a minute passes before you both fall back, Adam's back on the sweat-soaked mattress, you pressed against Adam's chest and stomach. His dick, which was still inside, gives you a pleasant feeling of fullness and oneness with him, and therefore you decide to lie in this position for now. You can clean up in five minutes tomorrow.

[tiredmamaissy]

Ralak te Sepwan ieyk’itan: Chapter Five

An Illustrated Collaboration with @zestys-stuff

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Hyperlinks are attached to specific paragraphs that when clicked on will lead you to its illustration by Ralak's creator @zestys-stuff.

Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (24) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (19)

Warnings: nsfw, smut, fluff, profanity, age gap, size difference/kink, praise kink, breeding kink, alcohol consumption, tattooing, blood, sexual tension, masturbation, fingering, p in v, mating/bonding, mentions of knotting, let me know if I forgot anything?

Word Count: 11.3k (i know i said it wouldn't be long, i'm so sorry i literally do not have an excuse)

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: Cheers to the final chapter of this series, guys. Thanks for coming along for the journey! 🤍🤍

Synopsis: Your family seeks uturu with the Metkayina in the village of Awa’atlu. You have a difficult time adjusting, and are assigned your own special teacher, Ralak.

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When he finished the bottle, he was woozy enough to crawl back into bed with you and snuggle behind you. His eyes finally closed when the first rays of sunshine beamed through the marui pod, shining on your face – waking you up.

----

The heavy, quick thump of your heart pounds in your ears, drowning out the waves that crash onto the shore outside your marui. Whilst the first rays of sunlight shine on your face, heating it up and making your eyelids flutter. Smacking your dry tongue against the roof of your mouth, the need for water becomes exigent.

You try to swallow whatever saliva you could pool in your cheeks, but it’s not nearly enough to clear the dryness of your throat. Looking to your left, you see Ralak sleeping soundly, head propped up on his makeshift bedhead with a hand resting on your inner thigh. He fell asleep mid-checking on you, wooziness of the fermented fruit getting the best of him.

As you sit up slowly, the soreness of your pelvis becomes undeniable. You take your time scooting back, leaning into the headboard as you catch your breath. Everything feels delayed, like pandora is spinning at an even slower pace. And that’s when the headache hits. Like you had just gotten in the middle of herd of stampeding 'angtsìk (hammerhead titanotheres).

You groan, ball of your palm rubbing a tight circle into your pulsing temple. A gust of wind blows the flap of your marui open, prickling your skin from the coolness of it. You feel your nipples harden into peaks on your chest, a hand quickly moving to cover them.

Oh.

Ralak had taken your iknimaya top off sometime during your sleep and hung it by the entrance of your marui to dry. It’s blood red leaves make a rustling noise as the draught of wind breezes through them, little rays of sunlight shining through the slivers of space.

Gently removing his hand from your thigh, you get out of the bed and make your way over to the swaying top. There’s a wobble in your step, dizziness swirling in your head making it hard to walk straight. When you finally get your hands on the top, you contemplate whether you should even put it on or not.

“As much as I love seeing you with nothing on...” A raspy voice startles you as two large hands slide down the sides of your waist, “...I love the way you look in that.” Ralak nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, rubbing his nose into the suppleness of your skin. “So, take care of it.” He mumbles, pressing his warm body against you. “And if you are cold... come back to bed.”

Is this my Ralak? You think, turning around to confirm if this talkative man is indeed your mate.

And that’s when you see that inebriated stare – the same gaze he had during his flashback a little over a week ago. Except, this time there’s a smug look to his face, corner of his lip curling upwards into a smirk. When you inspect a little further, you see the darkness under his eyes and the dampness of his hair.

“Lak. How long did you sleep? Are you–” You lean in to get a whiff of him, only to regret it a second later. “Eywa.” You mumble, looking at the shelf behind him to see the empty bottle of pxir. “Did you finish that last night? By yourself?”

“Mmm. Perhaps.” He hums, curving his back to snuzzle into your neck once more, snaking his arms around your waist to pull you in close.

“I see. So, it takes a bottle of pxir to get you to talk, hm? What else does a bottle of pxir do to you?” You tease, hand smoothing over his morning bulge, hard as rock and sheathed.

“Ah, tanhì. I am not that drunk.” He reaches behind you to retrieve the top. “...I would not do that before you are healed.” He pulls away from you, “I hurt you last night.” His voice falters as he slips the top over your head, securing the back with a quick knot.

You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth, purse your lips and shake your head. “Is that why you couldn’t sleep? Kept drinking? Ralak. I’m fine. Really.” You cup his cheek, trying to show him the sincerity in your eyes.

“I gave your father my word.” He utters, breaking eye contact.

Brows pinching in confusion, you tilt your head to try look him in the eye. “Your word?”

He finally lifts his gaze to meet yours. “To never let anything happen to you.”

For a moment, you feel those butterflies in your stomach, fluttering away like they did the first day you laid eyes on this man. It’s sweet. Seeing such a big, strong man feel this way over a little blood. Because that’s what it was – just a little blood. Surely, other na’vi experience something similar during their first time, too. You move your hand to cover your mouth, feeling a scoff making its way up your throat.

“Pfft. So that’s what you two were talking about?” You ask with raised brows, and when they pinch together you let out a chuckle. “You were trying to fuck me, not kill me Lak.” You jester, but he didn’t find it as funny as you did, glaring down at you with a deadpan expression.

“Look, I wanted it. I still want it.” You grip his jawbone, pulling him in to look at you in the eye. “And I feel fine now.” You tell a white lie, hoping to make this gentle giant feel better.

He shakes his head, letting out a long sigh. “No. You do not. You still smell... wounded.” He utters the last word with a wince. “And I have been checking.”

Nothing gets past this man. Not when he has mastered the ability to tune into his body and all his senses. You gnaw on your bottom lip, little pointed canines nicking the thin flesh. The metallic taste of blood floods your tongue, setting off a spark in your brain. You scan his bare, sinewy torso and catch sight of his shoulder. Taking a quick breath in, you understand what he means by a ‘wounded’ scent.

“Well, I hurt you too. So, we’re even. Okay?” You insist, hand grazing over the scabbed-up bite mark on his shoulder.

He cocks his brow and scoffs, quickly glancing at the dark red indentations before looking back down at you like you just told the joke of the century. “That little scratch?”

Your drop your hand from his jaw and straighten your smile, mirroring his blank expression from earlier. Ralak and his word infamous word ‘scratch’. And most importantly, why didn’t he find your actual joke funny? Maybe you should make the best of this situation, then. Your eyes become beady, peering at him with limited vision.

“Fine. You hurt me.” You state, shrugging your shoulders a bit. His brows exchange a peck, ears twitching and jaw clenching. Hearing the confirmatory words made his heart sink. “But there is one thing you can do to make it up to me.”

You walk behind him towards the shelf of different sized and coloured bottles – some dusty, some not – and grab the fullest one. When you spin around, he has the guiltiest expression on his face, prepared to do anything to remedy the situation. It almost makes you want to stop with your little scheme and cradle him close into your bosom until he knows it’s okay. But not after his little scoff.

“My tattoo.” You sing, voiced feigned with innocence. 

He exhales a sigh, smile slowly creeping up on his face once he’s figured you out. “Alright, little one.” He chuckles, stretching over you to grab the drinking bowl from the top shelf – far out your reach. He plunks it into your hand and takes the bottle from your grasp, popping it open with his back-teeth. With a few glugs your cup is full, prompting him to nudge it to your lips.

“You drink. I get everything ready.” He says before turning his heel to walk out of the marui pod. As he’s lifting the flap to the door, he projects his voice, “It will help with your head.”

It feels like an eternity since Ralak left, leaving you with nothing but you and this drink. You rotate the cup, whirling the iridescent colours of the pxir. It smells much better than the bottle you shared last night, and tastes better too.

It’s sweeter, with a slight bitter aftertaste. You knock it back as if it were a medicinal concoction that your grandmother gave to you, wincing as the burn trails down your throat. You let out an ah and lay back into the cot, waiting for Ralak’s return. It’s been almost an hour now, and yet –

Still no Ralak.

You get up with a huff, pacing around the marui as you fidget with your thumbs. The nerves are setting in knowing that you’re about to get your first tattoo. But what makes it worse is where you’re getting this damn tattoo. Anxious – and thirsty – you pour yourself another cup, downing it in one go. Then another. And another.

At this point, it’s got no aftertaste at all. Just pure sweetness.

Once you swallow and go to put the cup down for good, you see Ralak standing by the marui door, hands above his head holding onto the stilt. It’s as if he were there watching you, waiting patiently for you to become aware his presence.

Unclothed and exposed right in front of your eyes.

The same drunken eyes peer back at you, ocean blue with a glint of gold, slightly lidded and glazed with something deeper than just lust. He stares at you longingly, wet hair plastered to his chest, right between his erect nipples. The more your gaze trails down his body, the more you realise how strong this man really is.

Each dip and ridge of his muscular physique is on full display, crossed ribs protruding from the stretched position he’s assuming. It’s like he’s posing like this just to... tease you. Because when you wonder down a little further, counting the stripes of that tattoo, he clears his throat. Loud. As if to say, ‘eyes up here’. 

No sort of grating noise could avert your gaze from this. His cock.

Its thick. Veiny. So heavy that it hangs down, resting against his thigh. His balls stay firm underneath it, sides of them barely peeking out around his girth. His head is barely sheathed, just the tip poking out – glistening with a tiny bead of precum. You swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth, reminding yourself to breathe.

“See something you like?” His voice is deep and gruff, hands falling from the stilt to his sides.

“Mmm. Perhaps.” You repeat his words from earlier in a similar tone of voice.

“Ah.” He says with a slight smirk, bending down to reach for the small woven basket. “Is that so?”

“Mhm.” You hum, smile growing wider as he approaches you.

At this point, you’re all woozy in the head – bubbly yet heavy. Your shoulders bow, weight of your body increasing as the minutes pass. And soon your eyes are so lidded that you can barely see the man in front of you. Letting out a slow breath, you blink lethargically, leaning in to see what’s in the basket.

“Been a good girl for me, I see.” Ralak husks, observing your less than sober state.

“Only because you took so long.” You retort, hand darting to grab onto his bicep for support.

Hand missing his arm entirely, you lose your balance and start stumbling towards the basket. He catches you, body slumping into his as he steadies you. He takes a quick glance over to the half empty bottle on the shelf, before looking back down at you with wide eyes and a growing smirk.

“Well, my little rou tanhi [drunk freckle/star]. I had to hunt for squid, didn’t I?” He says, dipping his hand into the basket to retrieve the squids’ ink sac. 

“That’s – that’s what you’re putting inside my skin?” You hiccup, examining the black, blubbery sac. It looks like a vein, with a more bulbous end.

Ralak nods as he moves quickly, setting up the area as best and clean as he can. He pulls out two low stools from the corner of his marui. Laying a thin cloth over one stool, he carefully places the delicate ink sac on it, reaching back into the basket to retrieve the other items.

Sitting on the other stool, he pulls out a bowl, blackened by the ink from his own tattoo, and a wooden tool. It’s lengthy, with the bone-white tooth of a skimwing lodged into it. Their teeth are needle-like, piercing the skin with ease and precision. Using the tooth, he pierces the ink sac and pours all the contents into the stained bowl.

“Where?” Ralak asks nonchalantly, taking out a similar tool, without the pointed end.

You close the distance between you two, resting a hand on his shoulder and pushing your crotch into his face. His head snaps up, eyes directly in front of... you. Your exposed skin. Your soft folds, touching one another to hide your clit. His eyes widen a bit, gaze coming to a standstill to take it all in.

“See something you like?” You giggle, breaking him out of his trance.

He swallows thickly, eyelids fluttering as he tries to peel his eyes away from such a... delectable sight. They trail up your body, lingering at your crimson-coloured top, before landing on your downward gaze. He cocks a brow inquisitively, quickly glancing back down to your bare pelvis before locking eyes with you once more.

Ralak places a gentle hand on your lower abdomen, “Here?”

You smile, nodding your head slowly. “Just like yours.” You say quietly, hand momentarily lifting from his shoulder to tie his hair into a loose, messy bun. “Exactly... like yours.”

It’s the way you said the words that sent a shiver down his spine. He tries to fight the curl of his lips, denying himself the pleasure from you wanting a tattoo just like his. There’s something about you with a matching tattoo that makes him feel loved, special – horny.

“Are you sure, tanhì?” He asks through a low, steady voice, peering up at you achingly.

“Yes. It is special to me.” You gulp, nodding slightly. “To us. To mark the beginning of our life together.”

He gives you a firm nod, dropping his head to smile his growing, beaming smile. Hand falling from your abdomen, he fetches a small cloth and a jelly-like substance from the basket. Your stomach tenses when he smears the cold substance on your skin, rubbing it in until it evaporates.

 After cleaning the area, he readies himself with the pointed tool, dipping the needle-like tooth into the bowl of ink. Barely grazing the skin, he traces out the design of the tattoo on your skin, providing himself with a pattern to tattoo with precision. That alone hurt.

“Wait. I-I need more.” You say quickly, voice laced with anxiety.

Ralak takes a glimpse at the nearly empty bottle on the shelf and continues with his task. “Give it more time.” He mutters, dipping the pointed-tip of the tooth into the ink, positioning it carefully over the pattern.

Tip of the needle hovering a millimetre away from your deep blue skin, he waits patiently for your body to tell him to start. After a few moments, he senses you relaxing, taking it at his cue to start the process. With the end of the blunt tool, he taps the end of the pointed tool, penetrating your top of skin with the tooth.

Ralak’s gazes snaps up to yours as soon as he removes the needle, “hurts?”

The sting is barely noticeable, feeling more like heat than pain. You shake your head with a wobbly smile and tighten your grip on his shoulder. He continues with the tattoo, piercing your skin continuously until your little nails sink so deep into his skin it draws a little blood.

“Sorry.” You utter out a strained apology, realizing you’ve practically mutilated both shoulders now.

He lets out a deep chuckle, shaking his head a bit as he pricks you once more, gently blowing on your reddened skin. The cool air helps a bit, but at this point, it’s welted and raised – stained with a sheer layer of blood. He’s only just finished one of the 6 stripes on the left side of your navel, and the first eclipse is already starting. Resting your free hand on your hip, you take a few deliberate breaths, doing your best to slow your galloping heart.

It’s such an intimate, overwhelming experience.

“A break? With some more pxir, yes?” He suggests, already putting down the tattooing tool.

“Yes... please.” You groan with trembling lungs, legs going all wobbly from how long you’ve been standing.

You go to lay down on the cot, spreading your legs just enough for him to see. He tries his best not to look, immediately dropping his head and fixating his gaze onto his darkened fingertips. But with a little, filthy moan of ‘pain’, his gaze flies up, landing right where you want it to.

Legs spreading a little more, he becomes mesmerized by the little show you’re putting on for him. He stares through lidded eyes that become glossy with greed and desire. Like he wants to pin them down and devour you on the spot. He huffs out a sigh, reluctantly slamming his eyes shut, denying himself the pleasure.

“Tanhì. Do not tempt me. You now have two wounds to heal from.” Ralak utters the words in a low voice.

Oh, right. Choosing to have your tattoo in this particular spot would definitely make things... a bit more painful. You close your legs, accepting your failed attempt to seduce your mate and lie back into the soft pillow. The ceiling is spinning, but not nearly as fast as it should be for this tortuous process to be over with.

Rolling your head to the side, you look at Ralak, whose eyes are still closed. “Lak.” You whisper, prompting him to look at you. “I could use more pxir now.”

Ralak stands up and walks over to the shelf and retrieves the bottle. He pours the rest of it into two cups, one for him and one for you. Handing you your drink, he sits next to you on the bed, resting his hand on your inner thigh. You sit up and take the cup, chugging it before he can even put his to his lips.

“Another.” You mumble, handing him back the empty cup.

“Easy, my paysyul.” He chuckles, pouring you another drink.

----

It’s been a week since you got your first tattoo, which took two days to complete, leaving you dumbfounded at how Ralak was able to tattoo himself. Since, you’ve not only added three beads to your songchord, but also a piece of the cork from the bottle you shared after your... eventful first time together.

You had pretty much healed three days after your iknimaya night, but your tattoo remains irritated. Nothing you couldn’t handle, just a little inflammation with an itch you couldn’t quite scratch. Not when Ralak’s watching, at least. He’d be quick to shoot you a scowl, instilling some level of obedience in your little, defiant body.

Despite his continuous repudiation of your attempts to become intimate, he would do his nightly... examinations. Insisting that you still smelled ‘wounded’, he’d spread your legs during your slumber and ‘check on you’. Or maybe it was more so to check you out. To see your plump folds and the way your little nub peeks out between them.

Sometimes he’d let his gaze linger a little too long to be considered an act of benevolence. But rather, an act of greed and lust. But he just couldn’t help it, you look so... perfect. So untouched. Soft and supple. Like silk under his calloused touch. It’s maddening, taking everything in him to look away and close your legs.

Truth be told, he was unsure of what he was really looking for, all he was going from was your scent. He knew it was radiating from this specific area, and truly didn’t want to take any chances and accept your advances if you weren’t fully healed and ready. At that point, you had just accepted the way things were and let him get along with whatever he needed to do to feel better.

And you’d pretend to be asleep, enjoying whatever little touch you could get from him.  

Other than that, Ralak has been nothing but sweet and patient with you, as he usually is. Bringing you breakfast in bed was one of his favourite things to do, other than cooking the meal itself. Meticulously diced fruits and freshly caught fish, plated perfectly, and presented by the chef himself – in all his naked glory.

That was another thing.

After mating, Ralak seemed to have lost his tewng [loincloth] altogether. Always walking around with nothing but maybe his cumberband or chest piece. At first, it was fun and tempting, putting a shy smirk on your face whenever you’d see his heavy cock laying freely between his thighs. But now, it’s just downright torment – teasing at its finest.

No matter how many times you ‘accidentally’ flashed him, bent over a little too much, or just straight up went naked too, he would continue with the task at hand, completely unbothered. You could look, but you couldn’t touch. Until you grew so fed up when you saw him in the most torturous pose of them all.

Until tonight.

----

Ralak sits comfortably on his knees in the soft, wet sand, sharpening the point of his spear. He’s so focused on his task that he doesn’t even realize your stare, nor the little strand of curly hair in the centre of his forehead. Even kneeling, this giant remains... a giant. Thick and burly, muscular physique defined from the way the last rays of sunshine on his skin.

His freckles twinkle, darker blue swirled and striped patterns moving with how his muscles tighten and untighten as he presses the waterstone against the blade. Every now and then he would dip the stone into the water to rewet it.

You watch him intently, counting the number of times he rewets the waterstone. How many times he swipes the blade. How many abs pop out as he leans further back to get a better look at the entire length of the spear. How many stripes in that tattoo that started it all. All of which, turn out the be the same number.

Six.

And once you got to the sixth stripe, your eyes trail down its length, catching sight of the singular dot right at the base of his cock. Swallowing the excessive saliva pooling in your mouth, your lidded gaze pierces into him, taking in every small detail of his cock. Barely sheathed. Thick. Slightly veiny and darker towards the glossy tip.

Then, he chucks the spears over his shoulder as if they were little twigs back from hometree, making a clunking noise so loud you couldn’t help but avert your piercing gaze upwards. You bite your lip from the motion, so touch deprived you begin to fantasize about being his little vultsyìp [stick; branch] again, draped over on his shoulder as he carries you back up to the marui.

Yet he remains focused on anything but you, trying his upmost best to maintain what sliver of composure you allow him to have left. The restraint is visibly plastered on his face – gathered brows and a tensed jaw. You slide a hand behind your back, untying the knot of your loincloth, allowing it to drop to your feet.

“Mind having a look? It’s a little itchy.” You ask, voice feigned with innocence.

His concerned gaze snaps up to your tattoo, eyes darting in all directions to scan the inking properly. After seeing that it’s just fine, his features soften upon realizing what you were actually doing. “Looks fine.” He mutters, eyelids fluttering a few times, landing his gaze upon yours.

And when you meet his ocean blue eyes, you swear they lustre over with something of wanton – of greed. Silently telling you how badly he wants to pin you down into the sand and slide himself inside you. To fill up your little body with every single inch of himself, until you’re moaning nothing but his name. You can feel the flutter of your stomach – excitement from thinking your attempt at seducing this overly-patient giant was finally a success.

Then he looks away.

As if he didn’t just fuck you with his eyes. As if he didn’t just worsen the sexual tension that’s been brewing between you two for over the past week, and honestly – few months. Eywa, that makes you frustrated. Fuck – no, it makes you angry. So upset to the point you huff out a ‘hmmph’ and walk away to prepare yourself for an early bed.

“Tanhì!” Ralak shouts after you, shuffling to his feet with the spears still on his shoulder. “Y/n!”

You ignore his calls, storming up to the marui pod. You sit on the end of the bed, face buried in your hands as you try to calm down. But the more you sit here, the bigger the flame grows in your chest. It’s obvious that you’re ready to try again, yet he’s blatantly ignoring your advances. At this point, you may have to try and pleasure yourself.

Keyword being ‘try’.

You’d never been able to make yourself feel all that great, let alone cum. But at this rate it seems like you have no other choice. That’s it. You’ll make yourself cum. No need for him, right? Right. You knew Ralak wouldn’t follow you when you’re this upset. He’d let you come to him when ‘you’re ready’, rather than invading your personal space.

You hype yourself up, lying flat on your back and closing your eyes. You allow for your wandering hands to barely graze your body, hardening your nipples into peaks almost instantly. Parting the red leaves of your top, you expose your breasts, thumbs giving them both a flick.

Listen to your body. Ralak’s voice echoes in your mind – an intrusive memory resurfacing all on its own.

Rather than scaring you, his voice arouses you, back bowing against the bed in response. A hand slips down your stomach, finding comfort between your thighs. You squeeze your hand with your thighs, fingers pressing into the softness of your folds. You let out a breathy, soft moan, tips of your digits now parting your pussy lips.

The cool air hits your exposed bundle of nerves, having you clench around nothingness. Pressing the pads of four fingers onto your sensitive nub, you rub slow, loose circles into it. Little shocks travel through you in jolts, spasming your thigh muscles. It feels like too much, but not enough all together.

You grunt, level of frustration doubling by the second. Dipping into your core, you slicken your fingertips, gliding them back up to your clit. You try tighter, faster circles, and apply a little less pressure this time. And fuck, did that make a difference. The wetness of your fingers had them gliding effortlessly over that little nub, making it stiffen beneath your fingertips.

Head sinking into the softness of his makeshift pillows, your mouth hangs agape, breathy moans losing their softness and turning into little mewls and whines. Your hips lift off the bed, chasing your building orgasm. You try to zero in on the feeling, but it feels so weird, but oh-so fucking good at the same time. It’s almost like the flame in your chest spread throughout your body – heat pooling in your core.

“What are you doing?” A thick, accented voice pierces the air, gruff and monotonous.

You’re too into the moment to stop – to even bat an eye. You can hear your mate’s voice, but what you’re doing feels so good that you can’t even tell if it’s just another intrusive thought or if its real. You feel your toes curl, hand working even faster as your stomach muscles tense up. You’re so, so close.

And Ralak could tell.

He stands there, beads of water from the ocean rolling off his body, dripping through the cracks of the woven marui floor. Hair plastered to his chest; he stares at the sight unfolding in front of him through lidded eyes. He grits his teeth to hold his tongue, but he couldn’t deny the way seeing you do this to yourself makes him feel.

Aroused. Frustrated. Jealous. Possessive.

“I said. What are you doing?” Ralak growls low in his chest, thick fingers gripping your wrist to put a stop to your frantic movements.

“No. Don’t.” You huff out, fighting his grasp to pick up the pace of your fingers. “Trying to – fuck. Trying to c-cum!”

“I can see that. But why?” He asks through another growl, letting go of your wrist.

“’c-cause – ‘cause you’ve given me no other choice! You won’t even – haah ah – you won’t even touch me, Lak!” You whine loudly, desperately trying to re-establish the perfect movements and pace you had before.

Ralak does nothing but stand stock-still for a few moments, watching his numeyu [student] work hard to make herself cum for the first time. Pride swells his chest, seeing you so close – yet so far away. And for a second, a pang of pity clenches his heart, brows creasing as he watches you squirm about. Has he really been that distant? Distant enough to make you resort to self-pleasure when you have a perfectly capable mate right here?

“Touch you, hm?” He hums lowly, resting his hand on your sweaty thigh, “like this?”

“N-No. Y-You know what I want.” You barely sputter out, shaking your head side to side.

“Say it. Say the words.” He growls, fingertips sinking into your skin.

“Oh. Please, Lak. Please touch me. It’s been too long!” A frustrated, desperate groan falls from your lips, legs snapping wide open.

His eyes widen at the sight of you so vulnerable and exposed; puffy, glistening clit on full display. Gaze flying up to yours, he sees the utter state of desperation plastered all over your face. You already look so fucked out, brows pinched, and lips parted – eyes so lidded he can barely see the glint of gold in them.

“Here?” He breathes, sliding his hand up your thigh and barely brushing his three fingers against your sticky clit.

“Mmm – please.” You pant, grabbing his wrist to position his hand properly. “Right h-here.”

“Ah.” Ralak finally takes a seat on the edge of the cot, eyes fixed on your carnal expression. He presses right into the bundle of nerves, sending a jolt through your legs. “And what next, my numeyu?”

Grip tightening around his wrist, you move his hand erratically, hips moving along with it. You hear the click of his tongue and look up to see the slight shake of his head and curl of his lips. That same smug face he makes when you’re not quite getting something right.

“Karyu. [teacher]” You moan softly, doe eyes peering up into his, lashes fluttering as you blink repeatedly.

His brows jump at the word. It’s been a while since he’s heard it fall from your lips. Your flushed, swollen lips. He looks back up to your little fucked out eyes, glossy with tears and want. He hates to see you cry but for some reason the tears you’re fighting back are only making him hornier. Is that how bad you want his cock? Bad enough to cry about it? His hung cock springs from his thigh, jumping up to slap his stomach.

“Must your karyu teach you how to cum again?” Ralak growls, sliding a finger down to your slickened entrance. “Hm? Were our lessons not enough?” All you can do is mewl and claw at his wrist, lolling your head from side to side. “Answer me.” He says roughly, prodding at your hole with very tip of his digit.

“Yes! Fuck – yes. Please, t-teach me.” You beg breathily, rolling your hips down onto his single digit. Having one last, quick glance between your legs, he clenches his jaw as he slides his finger inside you. And when it comes to a hilt, a moan of relief evades your agape mouth, head sinking back into the soft pillow.

For a fleeting moment, he remains completely still, ensuring that you’re alright. Ralak stares at you, eyes darting in all directions to detect even a hint of pain etched into your features. A brow jumps when he realises that all you’re feeling is pure ecstasy. Taking this as his cue to continue, he pulls his finger back a bit, lining it up with the gummy part of your heat.

“If you want to cum...” He roughly curls his finger, applying a blissful pressure to your sweet spot, earning him a sudden whine from your lips, “...you touch right here. Understood?”

“Mhm. Mhm.” You frantically nod as you hum the words, feeling an itchy feeling brew in your core. You need to scratch it. So. Fucking. Bad. And his finger just isn’t enough. “Mh – more!”

“More?” He smirks, swiping his thumb over your clit. “Like that?” His voice is gruff, and anything but innocent. Like he takes joy in seeing you in such a desperate, needy state. “Or is it her –”

“For the love of Eywa, Ralak. Just fuck me, please!” You cry out, tears now rolling down your cheeks. If he didn’t take care of you now, you’d just lose it. He lets loose a loud chuckle, predatory gaze boring into your innocence. As if your little pleas and begs were entertaining him – getting him off.

“Take all three, then I think about it.” He teases with a cocked brow, pulling out of you tenderly to realign two digits at your opening.

“Y-Yes – Just, hurry Lak.” You whine, tugging at his wrist to sink his fingers inside you. “Oh, shit.” You exhale a sigh of relief. The stretch is divine, filling you up and just barely scratching that itch. To have his two thick fingers buried inside you is like ice on a burn, soothing all your pent-up frustration.

Ralak groans at the way you’re squeezing his digits, pussy so soaked they slip in and out with ease. As badly as he wants to let you know you’re being such a good girl for him, he decides to hold his praise for the bigger stretch. His last finger. Waiting patiently for your body to tell him you’re ready, he uses his free hand to massage your clit.

He fingers you roughly, pussy walls clenching and unclenching around him, telling him to go even deeper inside. Your whole-body squirms around, hips stuttering from your unadulterated desperation. The little, sweet cries and mewls escaping your lips are like music to his ears, sinking him deeper into his state of arousal.

Ralak situates himself between your legs, preparing you for the next stetch. Last time, you took it well, and perhaps if you hadn’t used your mate’s word against him, you would have had more time to adjust to all his fingers. The desperation you feel now is nearly as intense as your iknimaya tonight, but you find the strength to bite your tongue and allow Ralak to take over completely.

With your body now in a state of pure submission, Ralak leans in to kiss you, slowly sliding his last finger inside you. Your moan of pleasure is muffled by his soft lips, last knuckles meeting the softness of your plump pussy lips. He pulls away from you, moving his wet kisses up to your ear.

“That’s my good girl.” He whispers in a gruff voice, bottom lip brushing against the lobe of your ear. Angling his wrist to prod right into your sweet spot, he pumps all three fingers in and out of you.

“Feels... s-so – so good.” You pant quietly, rolling your hips into him. He can feel your body opening even more for him, sweet nectar dripping down to his wrists. After two more pumps of his fingers, you push him away from you, causing him to settle into the dips of his feet.

Both of you pant for air, chests heaving wildly, fully exposed and on edge. You can see the way his cock twitches to be sunk inside something – anything. It’s throbbing and so hard it must be painful, bead after bead of precum just oozing from his slit. It’s almost as if he enjoyed depriving himself of the pleasure of your tight cunt around his cock.

But tonight, there’s a glint in his eye.

A predatory, rapacious one. And when you exchange glares, there’s a silent understanding between the two of you. The understanding that you both want it just as bad as the other. The understanding that his patience has been stretched thin – so thin that all he needs is a little push.

“My body is ready, Ralak. I want you inside me, please.” You beg pathetically, looking him deep in his eyes.

Your sensitive pussy walls ache to know what it feels like to tighten around him, all gummy and slimy from the slick your body won’t stop producing. It’s like it’s in overdrive, sensing how big your mate is, and doing what it needs to accommodate his sheer size. Your legs spread wider, glistening pussy on full display – acting as bait to lure him in.

Ralak repositions himself closer between your legs, staring intently at the soft flesh, flushed red with arousal. Gaze darting up to yours, he sees your eyes gloss over with want, more tears of desperation threatening to roll down your heated cheeks.

He can tell you were ready, body completely submitting itself to him and his touches. He’s never seen you this needy, not even in heat. This past week has been tortuous for the two of you, waiting patiently for you to heal fully before touching you in the way you want.

“You must tell me if it hurts. Please tanhì.” He says low in his chest, rubbing his crown of his cock between your slickened folds.

“I will. Please.” A breathy whine parts your lips, hips shimmying down towards his. Left leg loosely resting on his thigh, you hold your right leg back, knee brushing against your shoulder.

He looks as if he were in pain, grimacing from the anticipation of possibly hurting you again. He ensures to take his time, aware of how well-endowed he is beneath his loincloth. He begins rubbing soft, loose circles in your swollen, sticky clit. It’s all red and puffy, making wet, sloppy noises with each stroke with his tip. He lingers there for as long as he can, playing in your wetness in hopes it’ll make it less painful for you.

Now with your verbal consent, he leans in, supporting his body weight with his hands nestled by your sides. His hips snap, throbbing, veiny cock sliding over your tender clit. You feel his warm, swollen tip poke into your lower stomach, pearls of precum leaking into the dip of your navel. He pulls back, trying to line his cock up with your entrance once more, hips stammering to sink himself inside you.

Fat tip bucking against your tight hole, it slides between your pussy lips and over the bundle of shot nerves again. You can’t help but moan, the sensation of his warm cock rubbing against you only makes the need to be fucked grow stronger. His breaths turn raggedy, huffing and puffing hot air as he snaps his hips back a final time. You reach down with a trembling hand and grip his girth, positioning him at your entrance.

“Relax for me, tanhì.” He grunts, shuffling his left knee closer towards you. “Let me in.” He feels you loosen up, releasing the breath you weren’t aware that you were holding. “A little more. There you go.” He hums, point of his tip now slowly breaking the resistance.

He pushes gently. Carefully. Slowly. Your chins meet your chests, both watching as his tip pops inside you. You take a sharp, shaky breath, feeling the immense pressure of something so thick bury itself into your tight opening. Eyes flicking up to yours, he searches your face for any kind of discomfort.

“Oh Lak. ‘ts s-so big.” You whimper under your breath, hand flying up to grip his forearm. “D-deeper.”

Inebriated eyes struggle to widen at your words, just like he struggles to fight against his urges to slam the rest of his cock inside you. He takes a deep breath, mesmerized by the way your cunt sucks him in another two inches. You’re so tight that he can’t help but grimace, brows tightening from the way you’re pinching him.

He stops, wanting to let you adjust to what’s inside you so far, only for you to wrap your slender, soft tail around his thigh. You know that it drives him crazy, it’s one of his favourite parts of you. A gruff grunt vibrates in his throat, hips bucking on their own to sink another couple inches inside your wet, tight cunt.

“Deeper. Deeper.” You blubber, grip on his forearm tightening as he obliges. You want all of him, every, single, fucking inch of him to stuff you until you feel queasy. Until he couldn’t push anymore. Until he can’t do anything but grind himself inside you. “Deeper!” You cry out a pathetic whine, just as his mushroomy head presses intp your cervix.

Ralak continues to push against the resistance, biting down on his bottom lip from the way you squeeze him so tightly. He bottoms out in your slippery pussy, his tattoo finally kissing yours. They align so perfectly, each line pressed against one another with precision.

He’s so deep inside you, that it feels like he’s in your tummy, knocking the air out of your lungs. Your mouth hangs open, tongue relaxed against your bottom lip as saliva dribbles down your chin. Brows kissing in fervour, you stare into his eyes while you relish in the sensation of your mate all the way inside you for the first time. He watches as the colour in your face turns almost purple, nails sinking so deep into his skin that they draw a little blood.

“Breathe for me, tanhì.” He huffs, easing up on his pushes. With his reminder, you gasp for air, salty tears flowing onto your tongue. “You are doing so well. You know that?”

“Oh – Ralak.” You let out a sweet, little cry, nipples hardening into stiff peaks from his extra hoarse voice. You couldn’t stop the tears; they always came when you feel too much of anything. And right now, you were feeling so full, so good. Even the stretch feels good, the sting and hint of pain from his cock burrowing all the way inside you.

He could feel the blood slowly trickle down his forearm, but the way your tight walls are nipping at him is much worse. The scent of his blood mixes in the air with the scent of your arousal, sending his nostrils fluttering in fear that he’s hurt you again.

“Feeling pain?” He asks, breaking eye contact briefly to check if you’re bleeding again. An expression of relief washes over him when he realizes that you’re not – it’s all just him. All he can see is the supple skin pulled taut around his cock, doing its best to stretch wide enough for him.

“No.” You lie, afraid it’ll be a repeat of last time. The pain is more like a burn, but the way the ridge of his cockhead pushes up into your gummy walls masks it just right.

“Tanhì.” He rasps, glancing at your disconnected kurus laying on your stomach, silently asking to make tsaheylu – for the truth.

“I – I mean, a little.” You confess, holding both your kurus in next to each other. “Just... stings. Feel me.” You breathe, urge to bond so consuming that your tendrils dance wildly as you move them closer together. Tsaheylu is made hastily, kurus tugging together with a quick, sharp movement. You stare into each other’s lidless eyes, pupils blown to full capacity.

Ralak’s ears tuck next to his skull, brows pinching and lips parting. In an instant, he can feel everything you’re feeling, and for a few moments its just overwhelming. He feels the slight burn between your legs and pants a few times, breath syncing with yours.

“See? You feel…good. Really good.” You moan lowly, finally relaxing your stomach muscles.

“Good.” He gulps, corners of his lips curling upwards. He stays as still as he can, waiting for your body’s command to move. “You feel… tight.”

There’s a moment of silence where you both take in how one another feels. How you can feel each vein of his cock. The way his mushroomy head throbs against your cervix. How warm and soft you feel around his length, sucking him in with greed.

It almost feels like it did when you mated – blown pupils and heightened senses. It’s just another way of connecting with each other. Ralak drops his head, gaze landing on your tattoo, distorted from the way your belly bulges from his cock.

“Oh shit.” He curses under his breath, voice laced with panic. He begins pulling out, prompting you to wrap your legs around his waist. “That must hurt.” He says, putting all his weight on one hand to caress the bump protruding from your abdomen with the other.

You look down to see his fingers graze over the bulge, shock raising your brows. “I- It doesn’t. I’m fine.”

His hand continues to stroke the bump, fantasizing about how one day this bump would be by something else entirely – his baby growing in your womb. He tries his hardest to fight the arousal brewing in his core, the type that makes his hips snap forward all on their own. All so he can see that bulge protrude even more.

Ralaks’ breathing is so heavy and hard that it’s audible – a low, continuous growl rumbling deep in his chest. Hand slowly sliding down your tattoo, he presses the ball of his palm into your pelvis as his thumb caresses your puffy clit. It makes you squirm a little, walls relaxing and contracting around his cock. He can tell that your body is ready for him, pussy producing so much slick it’s dripping onto his swollen balls.

“Please….” You moan softly, trying to grind into him. “Need you so bad, Lak.”

“Tell me what you need, my little paysyul.” He groans, inching closer to your face, hand moving from your clit to cup your breast. 

“Need you… need you to fuck m-me.” Your breath hitches at the last word, body shuddering from the way his slickened, calloused thumb grazes over your nipple.

“Fuck you, hm?” His accented voice is thick with want – with rapacity. He thrusts into you suddenly, knocking the air out your lungs. “Like that?”

“Mmnfuck! Ye-s.” You inhale shakily, nodding reassuringly as you claw at his face to pull him closer to you. He quickly props himself up on both his elbows, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours.

Ralak clenches and unclenches his jaw, ears twitching in synchrony, as he tries to resist scratching the itch to pound into you like his own little personal fucktoy. No matter how badly he wants to. To pump you full of his seed. To breed you. To knot you.

He sighs, momentarily closing his eyes to regain his composure. It’s already here, the animalistic instinct to turn you into a vessel to carry his offspring. It’s so close. Creeping up on him like a menace.

His rut.

Though it’s not due for another week, the way you’re staring up at him, eyes glazed over with need, begging him to fill you up didn’t help. Yet, he bites his lip through it, determined to make your real first time a special one. An enjoyable experience. So much so, that he forgets it’s his first time too.

Gently, Ralak. He reminds himself, rocking into you languidly, back muscles rippling with every thrust. Glancing down, he witnesses the bulge move as he rolls his hips into you. Sticky pelvises connected by strings of slick as he pulls out, he grunts quietly, feeling ashamed by how aroused watching you stretch to these lengths makes him feel.

He leans into you, peppering wet kisses down your jaw line, working his way up to the lobe of your ear. “Being such a good girl for me, hm? For your mate.”

You can feel the way his cock moves inside you, so deep and thick that every part of you is being stimulated all at once. You can’t even think straight, not with the way he’s grunting and whispering sweet praises into your ear. You hold on tightly to your mate, wrapping your arms around his neck as he moves at a steady pace.

That hint of pain quickly subsides, morphing into waves of pleasure so intense that it’s etched into your features. Your little mewls and whines turn into soft moans, breathy and shaky from the way he fucks right into your gummy sweet spot. You tighten your hold around his waist with your legs, encouraging him to fasten his pace and deepen his strokes.

“Please. More! Need more of you!” You cry out, nails scraping down his back to pull him in closer. 

“Patience, tanhì.” He huffs, moving his kisses down to your neck, suckling on your supple skin – leaving little bruise like marks behind. “So tiny” A kiss right on the column of your throat, “So tight.” A gentle roll of his hips as he pulls back to look you in the eyes. “My sevin [pretty].”

“Ralak.” You moan softly as you lift your hips up into him, feeling absolutely nothing but absolute and utter bliss at this point. “Please.”

He rolls his hips into you once more, slowly, and tenderly, ridge of his cockhead gliding past your swelling sweet spot. “My mate.” He groans, pulling back just to push himself inside you at a torturously slow pace. “All mine, yes?”

“Yes. Yes. All yours, ma’ lak.” You breathe, snaking your arms around his neck to tug him into you. “F-Faster.” You ask coyly, trying to keep your legs as wide open as you possibly can.

Ralak moves a little faster, but not nearly as fast as you need. He’s so big – so thick that it doesn’t matter the angle, some part of his cock is stimulating every part of you. Looking down, you see himself only halfway buried inside you, refusing to let your tattoos touch anymore.

Beady, displeased eyes snap back up to meet his, “I want to feel all of you.”

Ralak almost laughs, but instead cocks his brow and smirks. He leans down to play in the dip of your collarbone with his tongue, moving quickly to pepper a few kisses on the curve of your shoulder. “You like pain that much?”

For second, you really think about it. His cock is so deep that you feel like you can barely take a full breath. Not to mention the bulge from him being inside you alone. Yet you want all of it. Perhaps you do like pain. But with the way he’s touching you it’s hard to think clearly whatsoever. All that’s running through your head is Ralak pinning you into a mating press and pounding you the way you want.

“I like Ralak. And if Ralak means pain...” You wrap your arms and legs tightly around him, using all your weight and strength to roll him on to his back and situate yourself comfortably on top of him. “...then yes, I like pain.”  

“Is that right?” He huffs as his back slams into the ground, hands instinctively flying to grip the softness of your hips.

“Yes.” You let out a shaky confirmation, bringing your knees to your chest so you’re squatting over him. Sinking all the way down onto his cock, he watches as you suck in every single inch of him with ease. You’re tight – really tight – but you were practically made for him. He exhales a chuckle, finding it interesting how such a little thing could take his cock so well.

“What?” You snap, hands pressing into his firm chest as you reposition yourself on top of him.

“Who knew someone as small as you...” He slides his hands from your hips to your waist, “... would be made for someone like me.”

You gasp as he completely bottoms out inside you, lungs filling with the scent of his arousal, “Someone s-so big?”

He chuckles, calloused thumbs grazing over your raised tattoo, entranced how you can make such an inking like his look so good. There’s just something about the way it trails down to the most sensitive, vulnerable area of your body that drives him crazy.

“I can see why you couldn’t stop staring at mine.” He husks, hand sliding over the stripes to feel their raised texture.

The sensation makes your hips snap back, tattoo still a little sore and itchy. But the way his cock tilts right into your walls washes away the sting with a wave of pleasure. And soon your hips are stuttering all on their own, chasing that budding heat in your core. Every time you move back it feels like a jolt of white-hot pleasure, and when you move forward it’s like –

Satiation.

A feeling of fullness and satisfaction, so intense you feel like you’re about to explode. The sensation is a new one altogether, something you’ve never felt before. It’s so much – so overwhelming you could just scream. It’s like a pressure in your chest, like a heated pot with an airtight lid, about to pop and release.

Your body chases it, grinding back and forth into him at an unrelenting tempo. And the sounds that are coming from your mouth are just straight up vulgar. At this rate, you’re using him for your own pleasure, frenzied movements only increasing in speed and force. He’s so deep the bump protruding from your abdomen has completely deformed your tattoo, pushing against his thumbs.

He presses into it, feeling the crown of his cock through your soft skin. You’re arching your back, angling the tip of his cock to pummel into you even more, fingernails digging deep into his chest for some sort of leverage. You lift your hips up and slam into him repeatedly until the sound of smacking flesh overpowers your filthy noises.

“E-Easy tanhì.” His gruff voice breaks from your erratic movements. “Slow down. You are going to hurt yourself.” He grunts as he grabs your hips to slow you down, feeling his own climax quickly approaching.

“Quiet.” You shush him, weakly smacking away one of his hands to prevent him from ruining this for you. “Fuck. This feels too good. So fucking good. I-I feel like I’m –” You cut yourself off with a quick gasp for air.

Ralak looks up at you with lust in his eyes, pride bubbling in his chest from how you’re working for your climax all on your own. And from the way you’re clamping down around him, he can sense that you’re close. Maybe he could just give into you. Just this once.

“There you go. Just like that.” He encourages you, sliding his thumb between your folds to play with your sticky clit.

“Ugh! Lak.” You moan his name as you release the breath you’ve been holding. Eyes slamming shut, you shift your focus on the unfurling coil in your core. It feels like your nerves are shot, body teeming with pleasure.

Ralak stays still, allowing his little tanhì to do all the work. He can’t peel his eyes away from such a sight. The sight of his mate using him for her own pleasure. It almost sends him over the edge, urge to fuck up into you becoming an itch he must scratch.

“Y-You like how I feel around you. Don’t you?” You breathe, corner of your lips pulling up into a smug little smirk. The question snaps his gaze up to yours, blue eyes locking onto your flushed face. How was it possible? For your face to be more arousing to him than the sight of him inside you. For you, it’s the way he’s staring at you, as if you were the topping on the finest matkayinan dessert.

“Yeah? Haah, ah – say it. Tell your numeyu.” You pant shakily.

Ralak’s jaw twitches, chest rising and falling from how hard he’s breathing. He looks like he’s biting on his tongue – literally and figuratively. To hold back even just an ounce of self-control. So not to admit how good it feels when you squeeze him with your innocence.

It’s so pure. Untouched. Unfucked.

“I love it.” He growls through a clenched jaw.

“Oh, fuck.” You let loose a sudden scream, your hand flying to cover your agape mouth. Then there’s –

Silence. You hold your breath, feeling your eyes burn as they gloss over. All you can hear is the sound of your slick smearing all over his pelvic bone as you grind into him, and his intense breathing. Until you feel like you’re about to burst. Your hand falls from your mouth, leaving it wide open.

“Ralak.” You moan his name, although it sounds more like a desperate cry for help.

Rather than answering, he picks up the speed of his thumb, swiping over your swollen clit at a merciless pace.

“Ralak.” Another little cry falls from your flushed lips to let him know you’re close even though he can feel everything through tsaheylu. “Ra –” You cut yourself off with a quick snap of your hips, jamming his head right against your swollen g-spot. “–lak!”

“Ralak!” You cry out for the last time, frenzied movements turning into quick, rough grinding. You gush all over your mate, force of your orgasm so strong that you push him out of you, painting his stomach in your pussy juices as if he were a blank canvas. Your legs shake uncontrollably, all strength of your body washing away to leave you weak and wobbly. Pushing down onto his chest, you do your best to hold your shuddering body up.

“Fuck. Good girl. Good girl.” He curses a well-deserved praise, accent extra thick over such a novel word to him.

“I-I just made mys-self cum, Lak.” You groan breathlessly, feeling the walls of your cunt pulsate around him as confirmation.  

“I can see that tanhì” He chuckles breathily, chin meeting his chest to look at the little puddle of cum you’ve made on him. You look down to see what he’s talking about, blurred vision making it so that you can only see the intense glisten of his skin. You slide one hand down from his chest onto his stomach, feeling a warm, watery liquid glazed over his cyan skin.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorr – ”

“Shh. Again. Do that for your karyu again.” He hums, rolling his hips to grind his cock between your slippery pussy lips.

“Oh – Lak, I – I really don’t know if I can.” You say with trembling lungs, feeling so spent that you’re light in the head.

Ralak clicks his tongue, swiftly moving his hands under your thighs to lift you up. “You can. Hips up.” With one quick movement, he positions the tip of his cock at your tight opening and lets go of your thighs. Due to the heaviness of your body, you slam down onto lap, taking every inch of his cock all at once.

“Oh, great mother!” You cry out her name as a curse, crown of his cock threatening to pierce through your cervix. It hurt so good that you can’t help but grind further into it his relentless pushes. Fuck, maybe you do like pain. White hot pleasure surges through you, but morphs into something totally different when you feel his fingers wrap around and sink into your hips.

He repositions himself, heels of his feet sinking so deep into the cot that there will be dents for weeks. You bob and sway as he wiggles into place, all-consuming eyes boring into yours of delirium. They had a glint of... intent.

Intent to make you cum again.

And again. And – honestly, as many orgasms as he could squeeze out of your little body. And before you can even process all of what’s going on, Ralak begins pounding into you. Wet, squelching noises and sounds of skin smacking against skin become louder than the filthy moans he’s expertly working out of you.

“This is what you want, yes?” He grunts, pulling out just to slam himself back into you a little deeper. “All of me?”

“Lak!” You barely get out, a hand against his tattoo to push him back. “W-Wait, it’s too much –”

“Answer me.” He growls, angling his pelvis to fuck right into your most sensitive spot.

“Oh – fuck! Y-Yes!” You let loose a sudden, hoarse cry of defeat, taking his hammering with no where to run.

He can’t stop the buck of his hips. It’s just the way your heat sucks his in his twitching cock, milking his sticky precum into your empty womb. And that belly bulge – that damn bulge makes it twice as hard to fight to urge to fill you up until it’s even more swollen. He watches as it moves, ramming so hard into you it protrudes a little more with each thrust.

“Then cum for me.”  He demands of you, eyes locked on the way your breasts bounce under your crimson top from the sheer force of his thrusts.

“Please! Please –” You beg, unsure what even for. You could already feel yet another orgasm approaching, and it’s not yours. It’s like a heat is transferring through his queue to yours, and down your spine in shocks. You try to close your legs in anticipation of it pooling in your core, setting off your own orgasm.

“Tell me what you need.” He growls, thrusts becoming shorter and deeper, bulge at the base of his cock growing by the second.

He’s on the brink of cumming, and you could feel it.

“I-Inside.” You blubber, head dipping back from the overstimulation as he gets himself off with your tight cunt. He tsks, thrusting up into you hard. “Ugh! I need your cum inside me!”

“Shit.” He growls deeply, manhandling your hips to keep your squirming body down on his cock. You feel it throb inside you, filling up your empty womb right before your pussy walls flutter around him. Your brain short circuits, body convulsing violently before slumping down into his. He holds you tight, giving your sopping cunt a few more deep thrusts, knot prodding at your entrance.

“W-What’s t-that?” You blubber breathlessly into his ear, feeling your eyelids grow heavier.

“Knot.” He barely grunts an answer, thick, sticky seed dripping down the growing, throbbing bulge as it has no where else to go. His fingers dig into your skin, deeper and deeper as he squeezes his eyes shut – resisting the urge to sink his knot inside you too. That would hurt. Too much.

He hums out his orgasm, rocking into you a few times to ensure you’re as full as can be. Well, you feel that way. You’re so full of not only his cock but also his huge load, you can practically feel it slushing around inside you. You groan when the sensation makes you a little queasy.

Ralak feels your discomfort, tenderly pulling out of you. That alone took a while, each inch coming out of you slowly and gently. “You okay?” He huffs, just as his cockhead pops out of you, allowing his warm cum to seep out of you and down your thighs. You nod into the crook of his neck, closing your eyes and letting your body rest on top of him.

“You took me so well.” He coos at you, supporting the back of your head with one hand and the swell of your ass with the other. “You know that?”

“Mhm. L-ak.” His name comes out broken as he shuffles to his feet with you in his firm hold. “I see you, ma’ ‘lak.” You mumble, letting your eyes flutter shut.

“I see you, my little tanhì.” He utters the words in a hoarse voice, making his way to the cave to take care of you.

----

Now that you’re all healed and settled in to your new forever home, Ralak urges you to pay your family a visit. It took quite a bit of convincing, and honestly a little bit of bribing, but it worked and here you are – standing in your own family marui. Kiri, Tuk, and Neytiri were out with Ronal and Tsireya, leaving the boys behind.

Just your luck.

“C’mon, let’s see it.” Jake crosses his arms and takes a step back.

“Yeah, y/n. It’s been over a week since we’ve seen you. I haven’t even seen your tattoo yet.” Lo’ak chimes in, leaning against the stilt of his family marui. Neteyam stands tall, keeping to himself as he listens intently to the conversation.

“Guys.” You chuckle nervously, fidgeting with the cork on your songchord.

“Why so nervous, baby girl? Somewhere where we can’t see or somethin’?” Jake jesters, uncrossing his arms to walk behind you, inspecting your back.

“Uh – uhm.” You stumble with your words, looking at Neteyam for some sort of rescue. Rather, he cocks a brow in agreeance with his family. He wants to know too. You look at Lo’ak, who’s now making his way towards you too. It feels like they’re all closing in on you, teaming up on you to give you no other choice.

“Fine. If you guys want to see it that bad.” You shrug, hooking your thumbs under the band of your tewng and tug it down until the six lines begin to show.

The men’s eyes snap down and widen once they all realise what you’re doing. They begin retreating to the back of the marui, hands splayed in front of their faces to shield them from the unfolding sight.

“Alright. Alright!” Jake shouts, waving his hands for you to stop.

“Yep. Nevermind. Message received.” Lo’ak mutters, making his way through the back door of the marui. Before you can even look Neteyam’s way, he’s right behind his baby brother, shaking his head and escaping this whole ordeal.

----------

THE END :)

I hope you guys enjoyed this (slow burn) Ralak series. I just want to give a special thank you to @zestys-stuff for allowing me to bring this man to life in a fic. This collaboration has been unreal and so much fun and honestly, I look forward to doing more collabs with you in the future (cus I know you got more delicious OC’s hidden up your sleeve). You’re so fucking talented and I literally cannot get over it.  

Now, now. Ralak is not gone forever. I’ll be doing special episodes of him (and reader) going forward, and you can expect the first special episode very soon – “Ralak’s First Rut”. It’s a bit of a mind fuck (literally) so bear with me! Anyways.

‘nuff love,

Issy <3

[captain039]

PART 2

Temptations of flesh

Astarion x omega!reader

Warnings: Body worshiping, first time, virgin reader, vampire things, AOB, intimate, sexual, heats, mates, possessiveness, feelings

Previous part <-

I feel like vampire spawns still have a faint heartbeat along with a faint smell of what they were ranked as before they changed.

Astarions voice echos through your ears like a song, your whole body shudders. You went to speak, but found your words stuck, mouth opening and closing again. You sat up, holding the sheet to your body if he did come in. You waited silently and finally he moved. You wanted him to come in, but you watched his shadow disappear making your heart plummet. You whined sadly, your body craving some form of attention. Your tent opening suddenly flapped open though and the vampire was storming in. You looked to him quickly seeing the hungry look in his eyes as he knelt down quickly and pressed his lips to yours. You didn’t have time to react, you just moaned and kissed him back uncoordinated and needing. You gripped his shoulders tugging him back with you as you laid down. He went with you easily, deepening the kiss as he went. You cupped his face trying to bring him closer, but he pulled back making you whine again. He chuckled breathlessly and you flushed going to remove your hand also. His wrist caught yours, keeping it on his cheek as he sighed and nuzzled into it. Your heart fluttered as his eyes glazed over, he pressed his lips back to yours quickly moving so his knees were either side of your legs, straddling you. You tangled your fingers into his pearly curls and tugged him closer listening to his small growl. You let out a small whimper in response as he pulled back again panting.

“Do you want this?” He asked breathlessly and you frowned slightly, of course you did. You nodded a little too quickly making him smile slightly.

“I don’t know how gentle I can be” he admitted and you flushed body tingling. You nodded again as he went to stand up. You panicked reaching to grab his arm. You sat on your knees with worry in your eyes as he smiled softly and kissed you gently. You hummed getting caught in the daze he gave. You let your hand fall as he lifted his shirt and laid it on the crate in your tent, he pried off his boots and untied his pant strings you watched in fascination, you hadn’t really been able to admire his form under his clothes. You stood on shaky legs, the vampire helping you instantly his nose flaring and eyes darkening. You steadied your legs, cursing silently before a pain filled your head and your minds mended.

I want to touch

claim, take what’s mine

Your thoughts mingled as you tried to sever the connection, stupid parasite. You felt him press your hand to his chest, you felt his cool skin under your palm, his smooth flesh.

“You can touch” he whispered watching you with hungry eyes. You grew embarrassed at how his words affected you, your underwear getting damper by the second. You rested your hands on his chest, feeling the muscle and skin. You were almost jealous of his perfect form, but you were too busy indulging yourself. You ran your hands down his sides, across his abs, feeling them tense slightly and then his soft sigh. You ran your hands back up to his shoulders and over his arms before holding one of his hands. He let you explore, let you revel in his being as you pressed a kiss to one of his fingers. The vampire tensed and you thought you did something wrong so you stopped instantly.

“I’m sorry-“ you said letting his hand go and going to step back. He caught your hips and brought you closer, hips meeting his.

“Don’t apologise, ever” he said and you nodded with a small gulp, you were too caught up in your own need and want.

“I don’t know what I’m doing” you mumbled and he frowned slightly, did he not realise you’d never had a lover? How shy you were when he’d call you pet names or openly flirt.

“You’ve never taken a lover?” He asked curiously and you nodded, you felt his need rile through the parasites bond, it made you shudder.

“Please, don’t go” you begged and he hushed you gently pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I hate this feeling” you whispered tears in your eyes as his arms went around your waist to hold you. You rested your cheek against his cool skin and sighed, you heard a faint heartbeat too. You could smell the faintest scent of alpha, it made you shudder. He’d always smelt like nothing to you, you assumed it was due to him being a vampire, the other part members scents were always there though. Even Karlach had the alpha smell. You sensed Astarions struggle with words and pulled back with worry, would he leave now?

“You can go” you said stepping back from his hold and feeling self conscious. To blind in need and want from the heat, to stupid to keep your mouth shut.

“Darling, I don’t want to go” he said sighing.

“I want more than anything to force you down and claim you” he growled gesturing, you felt a new wave of want flow through you at his words.

“But you deserve better” he whispered and your heart clenched.

“I really don’t” you tried to chuckle.

“Please, just indulge me tonight?” You begged quietly and he growled softly going to you and pressing his lips to yours again, he made his decision.

You clenched his arms as he gently brought you back to the pile of blankets and pillows you had on the bed roll. His hands got rid of your bra easily before he spoke.

“Lie down” he ordered gently and you did. Your legs were shaky as you went, but relaxed once you were back in your nest. He looked to it, guilt in his eyes as he knelt down.

“I promise to you, one day you'll have a nice bed, all the blankets and pillows you ever need to build your nest” he said and warmth filled your heart as you smiled.

“Thank you” you whispered.

“Alpha” you added and his eyes went wide briefly before they darkened and he kissed you. His body rested on yours, you let your legs open so he could lay there, body’s pressed together. You whined quietly as your hips sought friction, grinding against him. He growled quietly kissing down your jaw and to your neck. An excitement lit up inside you as fangs gently scraped along your sensitive neck.

“I want to taste you” he whispered and you leant your head to the side allowing him access, but felt him pull back. You frowned looking to him, he had a smirk on his face as he shuffled back down your body. Your cheeks went hot red as you realised what he meant, thighs wanting to close.

“You smell delicious” he muttered kissing your thighs.

“You’re already dripping” he whispered eyeing your damp thighs and wet underwear.

“I shouldn’t have kept you waiting” he frowned slightly. Before you could speak though his tongue pressed against your inner thigh to lick up the slick that had trickled down. You squirmed legs almost closing had he not been so quick to hold them open. You panted slightly as he licked your thighs before you felt one of his fangs gently pierce the skin there. You gasped glancing down seeing him licking the blood and slick. His whole body shuddered and he groaned against your thigh. He gripped your underwear, tearing them off easily, were you not so worked up, you would’ve scolded him. You listened to him take a deep breath before pressing his tongue through your folds, a deep throaty moan leaving him. You gasped and moaned, back arching at the contact as he began to lap at your sex. Your whole body trembled, finally some form of release that wasn’t by your own hand. Your mind hazed over as he continued eating you out. He kept your hips firm to the ground despite you trying to grind against his face. You moaned hand moving on its own to apply pressure to your clit. You felt him smirk and continue licking and proding his tongue against your entrance. Your moaned hand quickened to seek release you desperately needed. Your head arched back as you came with a broken moan, Astarions tongue continuing against your entrance, lapping up your release. You felt bliss fill you at your release, despite feeling empty. He slowly stopped leaving you over sensitive as he lifted his head and crawled back up your body.

“Better?” He asked breathlessly.

“More” you whispered and he smirked.

“How could I deny you?”

Next part ->

[bhaalbaaby]

Title: strange emotions (2940 words) Pairing: astarion/tav Warnings: nsfw, first times, soft!astarion (but not ooc lmao), light dom/sub A/N: nsfw drabble before bed while thinking about things. very rough. will expand eventually. this game and writing makes me feel fragmented lmao I wrote a mini backstory for sarnarei but it's still so rough I don't wanna post it yet ;-;; feedback is appreciated!

Astarion and Sarnarei always wait until their companions sleep before slipping away from their listening ears. Tonight they meet in Sarnarei's tent. Astarion always arrived as soon as he heard the breathing slow of the last friend, usually Lae'zel. He waits cautiously, old habits die hard, until she crawls over and opens the grey tent flap. "You can come in my tent whenever, Astarion," Sarnarei says with a knowing smile. He hesitates before crawling in. "For now. I'm not used to having the free will." He states, resting beside her. He usually let her talk about whatever until she fell asleep and he feeds. She's more compliant when she's sleeping he finds.

Tonight feels different he notes, watching as she ties the tent close. "I'm so tired." She mumbles as she rests on her bedroll, her elbow propping her head up as she looks up at him, brown eyes shining. There's a mischievous glint as she smiles softly.

"Then you should sleep. Don't stay up on my account," Astarion replies, rolling his eyes as he resists kissing her lips.

"My body isn't tired yet," She adds, leaning closer, her body heat radiating on his arm.

He smirks, running his fingers along her shoulder and down her arm. "Is that so? I know something we'd be able to do to fix that you know, but…" He pauses. He still hasn't forgotten the news of her lack of experience. He hesitates not because of his skills. He obviously knows what he's doing, but a brand new partner?

She presses her warm lips against his cold neck, her hands going to his waist. He moans softly, giving in quickly. She can make mistakes for the rest of her life. Besides, with this tadpole crawling around their heads, they should live a little before it changes them into mind flayers.

She leans into him, pressing her thin bodice against his body. Her mind kicks into overdrive, focusing on leaving love bites on the vampire spawn. His hands slide down her torso to her round ass, gently squeezing. Tingles travel her body as she pulls her mouth away, breathing quickening.

He chuckles, "I can lead if you would like, darling." She nods, shyly smiling. His fingertips caress her jaw and chin, tilting her head up to him, brushing his lips against hers. She whines softly, craving more. He holds her chin still, keeping her from deepening their chaste kiss while his other hand moves from her ass to her front, slipping under her waistband.

"Patience is a virtue, Sarnarei. We don't want to rush this." Astarion teases, moving his face back, watching as frustration builds. A shiver runs down her spine as he gently massages her clit through her panties.

She closes her eyes as her brows knit together, her legs spreading to give him more space. He removes his hand, chuckling as he pushes her against her cot. Her reddish brown hair spills on the pillow behind her head and around her dark brown horns.

Astarion slips between her thighs, sitting back on his shins. His red eyes travel from her face down her face, down where the vitiligo spot on her chest peaks out from her top, the raised skin and bone peaking from her dark golden brown skin.

"You're beautiful." He whispers.

She looks away embarrassed, "Hurry up. I don't want to be interrupted."

He laughs, shaking his head. "You don't want to rush your first time, sweetheart." He pushes her dark top to the side, her nipple hardening in the cooler air. "We don't want to rush this special moment." He purrs, leaning down, wrapping his lips around it.

She gasps, grinding her hips against him. His tongue flicks the nub, his eyes focusing on her face. He pulls the other side down, his hand massaging the mound while he suckles her breast. Sarnarei whimpers as she shrugs her top off her arms, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, her fingers getting lost in his curly white hair. She gently tugs at the soft strands, making him moan. He removes his mouth with a soft smack before sitting up, kissing her passionately.

He pushes her back again against the pillow on her bedroll, his hands sliding to her pants and he drags them off her body. She looks up at the ceiling of the tent, anxiety building. "We can stop if you would like, Sarnarei."

She shakes her head, propping herself on her elbows as she glances up at him. "No, please don't," She whispers, her eyes pleading with him.

He chuckles to himself, amused. "Eager, now? I should make you beg for it." He teases, letting his fingers trace jutting ridges on her waist. Sarnarei's brows twitch, her heart tripping over itself as his fingers drag down her heated skin. "You know, I've never been with a Tiefling before," Astarion says as he reaches the ridges on her hips, the sharpness a nice contrast from her otherwise soft body.

She tilts her head to the side, "I've never been with an elf or a vampire, so I'd say we're even."

The corners of Astarion's lips perk up as he leans down, pressing his lips against hers, her kisses so sweet. Her hands find his waistband, tugging his frilly white shirt up. He obliges as she drags the thin fabric off his body.

In the darkness, she makes out that he's… Her breathing catches in her throat. Built. She doesn't know what she was expecting, maybe not as many muscles. Her hand rests on his abdomen, feeling him contract under her touch. She glances up at him, playfully smiling. "If only you could see what I can see." She whispers, quickly pecking his neck just under his bite marks.

He growls, removing her hands from his body, keeping them in his grasp as he slides down, her legs spread for him. "Keep up the flattery darling. Might even let you take control." He replies, his left-hand firm around her wrists as his right wraps around her thighs, pulling her closer.

She squirms, not used to being restrained like this, on top of feeling so exposed, his mouth so close to where she wants it, no needs it. She feels so depraved and primal, her tail tapping against the ground in anticipation. He blows a warm breath against her entrance, her hips bucking at the breeze. She bites her lip, more aware of their surroundings. She did not want anyone interrupting such a delicate process. His tongue trails along the ridges on her pelvic bone, more out of curiosity about how it feels. The bumps add to her arousal, and her breathing gets louder.

Dangerous.

She struggles against his grasp, wanting to guide his head down to her swelling clit, the idea of his mouth being there so enticing. She curses herself for waiting for so long for this pleasure. She should have jumped on him the first night. His tongue slides down the arrow-like ridge that points to her entrance, his red eyes flicking up to her face, sweating beading on her brow.

She rocks her hips to his face, whimpering as his tongue parts her folds, his head following the rhythm of her hips as he finds her clit. She gasps, trying to pull away. His grip only tightens on both her thigh and her wrists. He wraps his lips around it, sucking on the bundle of nerves, needing her to moan. She fights it, clenching her teeth as her heart beats so loud. He laps her clit slowly, resting his tongue against it. Her toes curl as she again unsuccessfully tries to pull away. He removes the hand holding her thigh, slipping a slender finger into her tight hole. She winces, expecting pain, but it never comes. He's being careful.

He thrusts his finger slowly as he removes his mouth to watch as she takes his digit. "My, my… I can only imagine how you'll feel wrapped around my cock."

His words add to her excitement, her head tossed back against the pillows as she writhes. He returns his mouth, tongue lashing against her clit as he picks up the pace with his finger. Her breathing shudders as she lets out her first audible moan, fire growing in her belly.

Astarion relishes the sound, determined to make her continue. He suckles the button, closing his eyes as her legs wrap around his head, begging for more. He adds another finger, checking her limit, if she can handle him. She manages to break free with her right hand, coming up to her mouth, trying to silence herself from being so loud, but his fingers and that talented tongue… Her tail whips back and forth, slapping her thigh on accident, but only adding to her overall arousal.

"Astarion… I…" She tries to sit up, resting on her right elbow as her body leans over, Astarion staying still as he tightens his grip on her remaining hand, still pumping her. His red eyes glare up at her as she pants, watching, shuddering. "You're so adorable, getting so close already. I barely touched you." He chastises, rolling his tongue around her swelling heat.

She shakes her head, "I can't help it." She moans, her body heat rising, stomach tightening.

Suddenly he pulls away, resting on his haunches. He brings his fingers up to his lips, tasting her again. Gods… He closes his eyes, palming his cock through his trousers. "If I fuck you right now, you will come undone just like that." He snaps, pulling his pants down. "I personally am excited that it's my cock you crave, but also not surprised." He rolls his eyes.

"Not surprised?" Sarnarei repeats, her eyes locked on his undergarments as he nods. "Of course. You don't give those puppy eyes to anyone else, but me," He pauses, his hands resting on his waistband. "Well and Karlach." He chuckles, dragging his underwear down, kicking it off with the rest of his clothes.

Sarnarei's cheeks heat as she thinks of the other Tiefling, imagining how her body would feel once it's cool enough to touch.

Astarion brings her back to reality quickly, his hands wrapping around her thighs and bringing her closer. "Usually, I wouldn't be so delicate, but I don't want to hurt you." There's a hint of disgust in himself that he's worried. He should fuck her like he fucks everyone else. But…

He rocks himself against her ridged pelvis and slit. She whimpers, trying not to look away from his cock. "Keep staring and I might make a detour for your mouth, darling."

Her eyes widen as she glances up at him, curious. "My mouth?"

He nods and continues to rub himself against her. "Ah, I'll come back to that beautiful mouth of yours, let you clean the mess you're about to make. How's that for a deal?" He asks, the ridges on her pelvis make his cock tingle, almost like an aphrodisiac. He'd have to look up what their purpose was besides making his cock swell. He pulls back, aligning himself with her entrance. "Now, if this hurts, tell me. I don't want to make you uncomfortable." Sarnarei nods, resting back on the bedroll, trying to get her breathing to calm down, and her tail to stop twitching so much.

He slowly thrusts in, her walls clenching around him. Her eyes close and she covers her face, her stomach tensing. He leans down, hands on either side of her head. "Too much?" He asks, trying his best not to move, not to pound her into the bedroll. She peeks between her fingers, looking up at the handsome elf as she shakes her head. "Yes and no, but do not stop." She whines, removing her hands from her face, and resting them on his flexing arms. "Good. Because I don't want to hold back anymore." He purrs, slowly thrusting, still trying to get her acclimated. She nods, wincing not in pain but from the pleasure that shoots from her her insides to her brain. She curses in her brain as she digs her fingers into his biceps, panting as she bites her lip.

"Faster…" She says before she catches herself.

Astarion laughs, his hand gently caressing her hair and horn. "Yes, ma'am." He picks up his pace, skin on skin filling the tent. He watches her face contort as she holds on to him tighter. She's so wet around his cock, he finds himself thinking of something else to not finish so fast. He decides on a story Gale told earlier about goblins.

She mewls as she rocks her hips with his thrusts, their hips meeting, guiding him deeper. He leans down as she carefully turns her head, exposing her neck. To feed and fuck. He presses his lips against her neck, grunting.

"We're gonna wake the camp," Sarnarei whimpers her arms wrapping around his shoulders, feeling the scars engraved on his back.

"Let them hear us, my sweet. Your moans are keeping me inspired." He says, panting as he pounds her hard into the bedroll. Her tail twitches and relaxes with his pace, her eyes closing tight. "It's so…" She can't finish her words, her legs wrapped tight around his waist as she lifts her hips slightly, still trying her best to keep her moans quiet. Her orgasm rips through her body, fire spreading in her veins, clenching her hands into fists.

He wants to finish with her, inside of her, but he couldn't remember if they could cross breed and he didn't want to find out if his spawn swimmers had life. He goes as long as he can, fighting the clenching and ripples of her walls, beckoning him to join her. No, not now.

He pulls out, rubbing his cock, his tip swelling. "Show me your mouth. Taste yourself." Sarnarei's eyes widen, getting on all fours. She brings his cock to her mouth, her tongue cautiously running along his shaft.

He hisses, biting his lip, guiding her head to his tip. "Let me use that beautiful mouth." She keeps her mouth open, his fingers knitting in her dark hair, his cock filling her mouth as far as she can go.

She gags softly when he presses too far. He pulls himself out, tapping his tip on her tongue. "Aww, you sound so cute when you gag." Astarion purrs, slowly fucking her mouth, not as far this time. She moans around him, trying to peer up as he grunts. "Good girl. I'm gonna fill your mouth, and you're going to swallow."

She heard of this, a while ago. Her previous Lady's daughter told her in passing that she hated the way her husband tasted and would rather vomit than swallow his emissions. What if he tastes bad? Could she fake it? He doesn't let her make the decision, shoving his cock as far as she can take it, his swelling cock twitching. He leans down, grabbing her full ass and giving her a spank. Her moans are muffled, but he continues rocking his hips against her face. He sits up, quickening his pace.

She tastes the first drops, salty yet also sweet. She can't explain it. It's not her favorite, but she doesn't mind swallowing it. Her skin tingles hearing him call her a good girl and she wants to hear it again. His cock twitches in her mouth, the tip almost engorged before exploding three pumps of warm white cum on her tongue and throat. He pulls out, groaning, rubbing his cock as he shudders. Sarnarei does what she's told, swallowing, her eyes locking on his face as he finishes on her chest and neck. His breathing is loud and haggard as he rests on his legs, reaching for his pants for a handkerchief.

Sarnarei sits back as well, feeling her world opening up. She could fuck him any time now she bets. Her mind races as she thinks of standing up and having him from behind while she holds on to a tree. Or maybe she could be on top, her hands splayed on his chest.

Instantly the electricity of their tadpole, the images in her mind going to Astarion's as does the feeling of excitement and warmth.

The connection fades when Astarion chuckles, "Ah, we can do all of those things. We have to catch you up anyway." Her smile is shy, but she crawls towards him, kissing him slowly, deliberately. He closes his eyes, matching her passion as he wipes his mess off her chest, his other hand going up to her hair as he gently tugs.

"Now that you are thoroughly exhausted, you should sleep."

"Sleep?" She pouts, her hands resting on his thighs.

"Yes, sleep. We have a long day tomorrow. Can't have you sleepy because you're thinking between your legs, which would be a good change for once. Not so heroic all the time."

She doesn't let up her pouting as he guides her head back down for a long kiss, tasting themselves. She sits in his lap, her damp heat against his flaccid member. "We'll have more time another night. Don't worry." He says, smirking. "Come on now. Sleep, precious girl."

She climbs off him, resting on her bedroll, ignoring the wetness of her sweat, making a note to do it somewhere else next time. "You promise we'll have more time?"

Astarion rests next to her, waiting for her to sleep, for his time to feed. "I promise. I would never lie about this." He winks, tucking a hair behind her ear. She narrows her eyes, not believing him, but is too tired to argue.

[ctrldoll]

Model! ⑅˖⁠♡.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡

❝You make this man sing hymns about you, it's insane.❞✧｡♡

❝She’s so ethereal! My pretty, beautiful, gorgeous wife! Damn, am I lucky she ever looked at me.❞

Model! Wife! Reader/Husband! Satoru Gojo

Genre: Fluff & Angst! (⁠っ⁠˘⁠з⁠(⁠˘⁠⌣⁠˘⁠ ⁠) & (⁠ب⁠_⁠ب⁠)

TW: Pregnancy Mention, A Tiny Bit Suggestive (Tiny!), Gore Description, Sorta Body Horror (Can't write that for my life) & MAJOR TW: Child D***h.

Jessica White’s so gorgeous!!! ♡⁠(⁠>⁠ ⁠ਊ⁠ ⁠<⁠)⁠♡ This is not how [Name] looks but the model inspired me!

Peace and Blessings to you, My Love! <3

“Turn a little to the left...that's it.” The photographer in front of you guided you as you twisted your body into the bizarre position he had you in while wearing a puffy dress.

“Kidcore and vintage.” You concluded to your husband, phone in hand, at the email you received from Marrie, the designer of the dress you were to wear the next day. “The dress looks puffy, kind of like those of the ‘grandma’ type of dolls with a colourful, childish mix.” You observed then handed him the phone to take a look. “It does look like that”. Satoru said, zooming the photo to look at the details. “It's a pretty unique design. Definitely reflects her energy. She's so bubbly.” His white locks falling apart on the curve of your breasts as he cuddled you more.

“Yes, she's the cutest. Vintage doll dresses are so adorable.” You smiled as you caressed his hair and looked over a couple more details.

You married one another while young. Satoru’s family wanted an heir early, and your family wanted to be closer to the Gojo heirline. It was arranged, yes, but it was surprising that you fell for one another despite the circumstances.

“I told you, I'm fine.” Raindrops dripped onto the sidewalk as you stood under the bus stop’s shelter. Satoru, having a couple of errands on his mind, forgot to inform Kiyotaka to pick you up. “Get inside the car. It’s freezing”. Gojo responded, and the car opened itself. Of course, he was going to show off.

“You didn't have to come. I could have gotten an Uber.” You said, once on the passenger seat, and fastened your seatbelt. “And risk you getting hurt? What good fiancé would I be if I didn't pick you up?”

“I can handle myself, Satoru. No need to force yourself.” You responded, rolling your eyes as you watched the road. The rain would have been terrible to handle alone, you observed, but your pride couldn't lower itself to thank him.

“I'm not. I couldn’t let you handle the rain alone.” Satoru responded and removed his blindfold to look at you. Starlight gazed into your own, and you forced yourself to look away before it seemed as though you were staring too much.

“Hmph.” You drew your attention to the raindrops glistening the window. “Thank you.” You said after a moment and rolled your eyes at Gojo’s smirk.

“Aww, you're warming up to me.”

“Fuck off.” You bit a grin, embarrassed.

“Nononono...!” You cried as you ran from the curse that paced at you, and nearly fell as you climbed the stairs of your agent’s villa.

Blood from the family that was consumed by the horrid curse that gave chase stained your clothes. Shouts threatened to tear from your lips but you shakily kept them in.

“It’s getting closer!” You panicked and rushed into a corner.

“No!” You thought. Fear was overcoming you as you desperately grasped the concrete. You heard a chuckle from behind you and turned to gasp at the raw sight.

Nagasaki, your agent’s face was at the side of the mushy form that walked towards you with twig-like legs and eyes that struggled to be seen through the flaps of fat that protruded underneath the curse’s purple skin.

“Nonnie.” You tearfully whispered when you saw her small brown arm potrude out of the side of the creature's head and flap aimlessly. A yell fell from your lips at the bite the creature made at its small build with suddenly formed teeth that were stained red, and spat it out in front of you.

“Shit! Why did Nagasaki have to confess his feelings for me? Why did he do it in front of his wife?” You cried at the blood-stained and slick arm in front of you, recalling the time you spent with the young darling.

The curse was a manifestation of the hazardous atmosphere in the home. The toxicity grew bigger and intensified by rage at the final moment, the curse was birthed.

“Y-ou...ack!” Nagasaki’s wife's head choked at the blood she vomited, the mix of her fluids spilling through the large tear across the left side of her mouth. Half of her body stuck out at the top of the curse, fury flowing through her eyes at the sight of you. The curse let out a shout on her side, but she ignored it.

“Aaaa-ack!” The curse that was rushing towards you let out a low noise before plopping to the floor, a wet noise following it as its guts poured from its split body. Blood and slick, similar to a slightly mixed egg yolk with its egg white, spread across the floor.

“[Name], I’m so sorry. I should have come sooner. I’m here. It's alright, [Name]. You can open your eyes now.” You didn't realise you had closed them. You heard someone shift towards you and drew deeper into the wall in instinct, arm over your eyes in the slight defence you could afford. The movement stopped.

Quiet fell over the atmosphere as you took in deep breaths to calm down your heart, which beat ferociously and was heard all over your body. “[Name]? Satoru called out once more, brows furrowed at the pitiful form you were stuck in.

“Satoru? Is that you?” You stammered a bit, hoping that you weren't being delusional in your last moments. “Yes, [Name]. It's me.” Tears engulfed your eyes as you slumped to the floor in exhaustion and relief.

“I thought I was going to...No!” You wailed and desperately clung on to the man when he dropped to your level. “Why is it that all I’m good at is healing?! If it weren't for you...oh my gosh!”

“Hey. Hey. Hey, [Name]. Don't speak about yourself like that. You help so many people with your ability. You help me.”

“No, I don't! I wish I could have done something—anything! Nonnie!” You bawled as you looked at her unevenly cut organ, holding back vomit as the revelation of the child’s death overcame you. Satoru’s gaze moved to the arm and he let out a deep breath, his eyes low as the familiar sight saddened him.

Sobs engulfed the building, and unspoken solace was shared between you two as realisations were made about just how you both related to one another. You were both exposed to unfathomable sights.

“Time for a break.” Milo, your photographer said as he looked over the shots made. “Yes!” You grinned and walked up to him to view them as well. A hand intertwined with your waist, and you rolled your eyes, a smile on your face as you turned to your husband.

“Who’s this gorgeous woman I’m looking at right now? Gosh, she is so adorable.” Satoru grinned as he looked at the shots your photographer showed him as he looked for the perfect one. “It’s none other than your beautiful wife, Mr. Gojo.”

“Obviously, it's her. There's no one else as stunning as her.” He smirked, slightly wiggling his eyebrows at you, who turned to the other side in laughter and slight embarrassment. “Gosh, I can't take you out of the house, can I?” You giggled.

“Not unless you're staying home. I'd gladly spend the whole day with my Beloved.” He smirked with a familiar glint in his eyes. “Yes, I definitely can't take you out of the house.” You responded, flustered.

“Ugh, if you two lovebirds are going to flirt right in front of me, you might as well head over to the janitor’s room. Damn teenagers.” Milo shook his head as he rolled his eyes with a smile on his face.

“Don’t worry about us, Milo. Focus on how you're going to impress Sarah during your date tomorrow.” You grinned as you watched a blush appear on his pale cheeks. “The missus is doing alright. Gonna be the first date in a while since the last one, which was a year ago. Gosh, children really take up a lot of your time. We wouldn't trade our little ones for anything, though.”

“Definately. We hope to get a bunch of cute, tiny versions of us in the near future too. I just know that they're all going to inherit their mother's snark and our good looks.” Gojo said, a smile on his face as he fantasised about the picket fence life he had every intention to share with you.

“Hmph. For all I know, they're all going to inherit your mischief. A bunch of little Satoru’s are bound to bring chaos just like their father.” You responded, gently laying a hand on your tummy. You couldn't wait to tell him the news on Valentine's Day tomorrow.

A bunch of mini-you’s and Satoru’s were bound to be an adventure.

This was funnn! Happy Valentine's Day! ♡⁠(⁠>⁠ ⁠ਊ⁠ ⁠<⁠)⁠♡

[avatarkv]

The inches in between us. (Exile)

After you have finally escaped the brutality of Quaritch, your feet wandered carelessly to Eywa-knows where. With no clan to return to, you will never guess where you end up at— the root of it all.

“How could I have brought war back to you if it never left the first place? Do not put the blame on me, oh great mighty warrior, I have already been long shouldering my clan’s battle cries— you have no idea.” (second part)

Content and warnings: Jake Sully x Reader! Age gap (reader is in her 20s while jake is mid 30s.) Mention of violence. no neytiri, she dead here yall. think this part has 3.3k words!!!

“You asked for me, sa’nok?” You entered the tent that held medicine and all sorts of cure. You slowly stride inside, careful not to break any glass or to step on important plants and such. 

You see her mushing herbs on the corner, her eyebrows knitted together in complete focus— always the overworking Tsahik. You walk towards her, letting your presence known with a soft nudge. She greets you with a smile, urging you to sit beside her. 

“As you already know, you are at the age of..” Your mother takes a deep breath, not even bothering to look at your already annoyed expression. “finding a mate—“ 

“Oh Eywa, not this again.” You rolled your eyes, removing her hand from your thigh.  

“Give this man a chance, my sweet child.” She coos, stroking your back in soothing circles. You take in the moment to feel her calloused hands on your skin— the comfort of a mother. “Forgive and you will find love.” 

—

Your eyes open to an unfamiliar ceiling, worry immediately churning your stomach. You were unable to move; fatigue and stiffness immediately overtaking your senses. It was almost unbearable, if not for the healing pastes and cure. The hurt that struck your entirety had also been a reminder to where you were at the moment. 

You stood unsteadily, trying to carefully stretch the pain out from your joints. If it was your mother who had healed you, you’d immediately meet a slap on the forehead for moving already— but she wasn’t here and you were nowhere near your home. 

The flap from the hut opens, revealing Neteyam. He greets you with a swift nod and you reply with the usual gesture. “My father lends you these,” He extends the clothes from his hands and you take it hesitantly. “He waits for you near training quarters. Ask any of the people here and they will take you there.”

The cloth was woven delicately; the few beads attached glimmered under the morning’s light, almost as if it asked me to handle it with absolute care. Surely, this was someone else’s— unless the people here were fast on their hands, but it was unlikely. The loincloth was a simple brown with distinguishable accents, one of the few patterns that the Omatikaya wear.  

“Is it not to your liking?” He interrupted, stepping forward and reaching for the clothes. Your head instantly raised to meet his eyes, only to realize his gaze stayed on the garments on your hands. A minute or so might’ve passed while examining it. “I can ask for another—“ 

You immediately shook your head, “I was simply admiring it. Irayo, Neteyam.” 

He was hesitant, you’ve realized; his lips would open, only to shut it close again. Neteyam’s face contorts into frustration, sharply turning his head to where he entered earlier with a sigh. “Whatever purpose you serve here, it better be for good. We’ve long washed our hands from war.”

You were beyond confused and before you could even ask, he hurriedly exited the hut. There’s a sharp pang of hurt rapidly growing on your chest— seizing what’s left of it to feel and crushing the already scattered pieces to fine dust. You couldn’t blame him anyway; you appeared to him in distress, bloodied and hurt. On top of that, you didn’t have the chance to introduce yourself properly. You came barging in without any explanation and they accepted you nonetheless. 

It was conflicting. You wanted to be mad at them— cause a wildfire and let them watch as everything becomes ash to nothing. An eye for an eye.

– 

The people took you there, as said by Neteyam. There stood the Toruk Makto discussing with another warrior, but as you walked towards them, you were greeted with the unfamiliar apparel worn by the other. You were alarmed at the avatar standing alongside Jake Sully and you immediately changed your stance into a defensive one. You hissed as you drew out your bow.

“Mawey, mawey!” Jake approached you with both hands up as his friend cowered on the corner. You bared your teeth as he acted as a barrier between you two. “This is Norm—“ 

“Demon!”

“‘eylan, he means no harm.” He gently lowered your weapon, yet your gaze never faltered. Jake nudged you, tilting his head to Norm while whispering a ‘come on, tell him your name.’ 

“__ te Kuweyi Ralì'ite” You snarled as he sheepishly waved in return. 

The three of you gathered further in the quarters. Jake had urged you to explain; to tell them your side of story— and you did, though inside you were terribly conflicted. You told them the whereabouts of your clan while they ruled out possibilities of where the enemies could be. Begrudgingly, you told them of their lab. You remembered being carried there within the night it happened— they must have been near. 

Norm had decided to investigate that very area. If it was a huge lab, then there was no reason for them to abandon it carelessly. It didn’t matter if Quaritch wouldn’t be present, but as long as there were crumbs to follow or even a few dream walkers to interrogate, it would be enough. Jake approved the plan, although hesitantly, he couldn’t risk the safety of his clan anymore. 

The whole time, Jake kept stealing glances. He stared in a scrutinizing manner and assessed you carefully. He studied your little actions— how your ears moved according to the emotion you showed, the small snarl you made every time the sky people were mentioned, and the way your head tilts whenever you couldn’t understand. 

You stood there across him and it was like he had known you for a long time. 

“This could be a one way trip as long as there are no stops or rests,” Norm explains, towering the tiny map and tracing the places “but I don’t fancy flying an ikran while it’s already dim out, so we’ll split it to a day and a half.” 

“I lost my Ikran,” Half a lie, again; she might be dead and you would never know. The thought makes you wince, your ears dropping. “Haven’t seen her since I ran away.”

“You’ll ride with Jake,” Norm decides and there was no room for negotiation. He wanted this to be over with, praying that you’re only mistaken— but who would attack as unmerciful as them? 

“You better be right about this, __” Jake’s attention turned to you, “Let’s move out immediately.” 

Being the responsible Olo'eyktan he is, he gathered everyone to announce his sudden departure. You stared at the eager crowd, listening intently to what he had to say. The mention of the sky people’s return faltered the clan, argument immediately roared among everyone. He’ll be back, two days tops— they all arrive at an understanding. The people grab onto him, forming some sort of chain that connected everyone all at once. Jake Sully had unbelievable authority; he knew all too well how to deal with the responsibility everyone had thrusted into him and you admired him in this perspective.  

You and Norm stayed with the Ikran. You watched him cautiously as he made use of the time to tinker around and check. Jake had to be with his children first— explain to them more clearly. It stung him to leave them like this, but Mo’at had assured him countless times that they’d be safe with her. 

His figure appears from the bushes, his eldest son trailing behind. Neteyam gave you a side glance, lowering his head in shame as he remembered the scene he caused earlier.  He couldn’t look you in the eyes— not like this. It made his stomach churn nauseously. 

“You’re in charge Neteyam,” Jake greets his Ikran, caressing it gently. “You know what to do.” His son answers in a swift yes sir, watching as his father mounts Bob. 

He offers you his hand, lifting you with ease off the ground. As you sat behind him, only then did Neteyam finally looked at you. His gaze was menacing— a silent threat. It was impossible to grab onto Jake for leverage, not with his son shooting daggers between your proximity. 

“You might want to hold on,” Jake turns to you,  “It’s been a while since I had someone aboard with Bob.” 

“Bob?” You ask indecorously, “Oh Eywa, save this poor Ikran.” 

— 

“Are we there yet?” You ask for the nth time. You’d be burning in embarrassment, if it wasn’t for the weariness that struck you whole. 

Jake would be a big liar if he said it didn’t bother him how you asked every minute. The way you slipped in and out of consciousness didn’t help either, as he had to hold you securely and nudge you back awake. It caused them to slow down every time and he wasn’t gonna deal with that during the whole flight ahead. With an idea popping just above his head like a lightbulb, he cleared his mind and fastened Bob’s pace.  

“Jake,” You tried to threaten, but the breathiness of your voice did little to scare him off. You grabbed his forearms, scared that you’d fall from the sudden shift in movement increasing by the second. “I pray to Eywa for strength that I do not pluck your eyes out!”

Bob sharply swerved, listening intently to what Jake ordered. He dangerously flew near the deformed terrain, through thick mosses and vines— at this point, you were Jake’s second skin with how close you were gripping onto him; your cheek dug tightly against his back. You could feel his laugh vibrating through his body, his shoulders shaking. 

In front you was two lands connected by thick ropes of plants, an opening right in the middle that you were sure no Ikran could pass through. Jake took that as a sign, lowering his body in thrill. (This man’s arch is crazy)

 “Hold on,” His arm snaked through your waist, pulling you closer if it was any more possible. As much as you wanted to shut your eyes, it remained open in anticipation. This was it, you thought, this was where Eywa will finally finish you off. 

To your surprise, you got through easily, the harsh gravel only scratching parts of your skin. You laugh, almost maniacally— the laugh of pure relief. You hoisted yourself up, kneeling on the Ikran’s back and grabbing onto Jake’s shoulders. You raised your hand, balling it up to a fist with a shout. The adrenaline was clearly washing your drowsiness and it was quickly replaced with a sensation you had dreaded for the very moment you were at the ripe age for training.

Jake was now the one feeling uneasy as he held your thigh down in place, extremely worried— but from his peripheral vision, you burned brightly and he couldn’t help but to admire you like a moth to a flame. The scenery blurred in the background and for a minute, there was peace. 

—

Darkness soon engulfed Pandora’s entirety. You quickly settled in for the night, resting on a cave-like spot— there was water situated near its opening, perfect for needed relief. Jake scouted the area to rid of any possible risk, as both you and Norm helped cozy up the place. Soon, pieces of cloth surrounded the fire and everyone made themselves comfortable. 

There was silence and it wasn’t the one you could rest to. It was the kind of quiet that begged to be filled— for someone to talk. 

“You are the daughter of both Tsahik and Olo'eyktan,” Jake disrupted the silence, his eyes unmoving. You answered with a swift yes, curious to where this conversation will lead. “Then I suppose you are betrothed?” 

You stifle a laughter, covering your already growing smile. You remember the multiple warriors lining up for your hand, but you would turn them down just as eager as they first came. Your freedom was too important to be given up— you disliked being tied down, especially when they only attempt to seduce the title you hold. This was the cause of plenty of misunderstandings between your parents as well, but you couldn’t be bothered to comply. 

“No men could please me.” You simply answered, shaking your head as it hung low with a smug grin. “And you? You already have a handful of kids, doubt there’s no one holding your heart close.” 

Silence enveloped everyone once again and this time, it achingly went by. You gazed at Jake in anticipation, only to see him fidgeting with the loose cloth from your top. 

“Neytiri,” Jake started, his still eyes watching the dancing flame grow higher, “Neytiri was my mate. The first time we met, she almost killed me and right there and then, I knew it was love.” His tone was humorous, but the hurt was unmistakable between every breathy laugh.  

“All energies are borrowed– at some point, you have to give it back. Even,” He palmed his face, sighing deeply. Everything constantly reminded him of her; the date nights, the simple cackle of the fire– you in her goddamn clothes. It’s been years already and Neytiri’s flame never once faltered on the back of his mind. She was there, always ready to visit him in dreams. “Even if they were promised to you.” 

You sat there, ears dropping in condolences. It drove him insane; you were there, almost as if Eywa had sent you for compensation– to be here in her absence. How else would Mo’at let you stay, in guise of the great mother’s will? Why else would Jake let his wife’s belongings be worn by you? 

You sat there and it hurt.

“Eywa holds her dear, Jake.” You hesitantly caressed his fist and he swore right here and then, your touch had caused fire to a part of him long gone. It was there, beating madly– but beating nonetheless. He shuts his eyes, letting the feeling bask in every fiber of his being.

It’s shameless– dancing with the devil. Just days ago, you wanted to wreak havoc; you wanted him gone and all you want now was to cradle him close. It was like the great mother had let you see him in a different light– in a different perspective. Was this her will? You thought, to be devastatingly in love with an already tortured soul?

You shook your head, trying desperately to discard those thoughts out of your mind. You stood up, withdrawing your hand from his. “It’s best if we rest now, we have another day tomorrow.” 

He coughs, averting his gaze and following in suit. Jake only nods, settling beside an already snoring Norm and patting the empty space beside him. You walk towards his tensed figure, laying with your back against his. 

You took a deep breath and tried to sleep. 

–

Norm stared with his mouth agape. Whether you both slept already in that position– he didn’t know. Your back was against Jake’s chest, his arms around you tightly. It sparked a familiar sight, almost of him and Neytiri once after their first defiance. You would stir in your sleep and he’d hold you closer in response– scared you’d leave with even the smallest of gap between your bodies, and yet you two slept soundly. 

It almost pained him to wake Jake up, knowing it had been a while since he had seen him like this, but they were on a mission and he’d be damned if would risk the lives of plenty. Norm gently taps him awake, and in an instant, his eyes shoot open. 

Jake notices almost immediately the proximity you both are in. Heat rushes to his ears as he hurriedly retracts his arm and backs away. This was wrong, this was– this was what he desperately yearned for all the years lost from her absence. 

“Jesus Christ, Norm,” He dismissed the knowing glance from his friend and started nudging you awake. “Get up, we have a long day ahead,” 

You woke up, absolutely confused with how they towered you with heavy gazes. 

After short preparations, you mounted his Ikran again and immediately continued with your journey. This time, there were no detours nor rests. Oddly enough, you could feel how his breath would hitch every time you’d tighten your hold around his waist. It was like you burned his skin every time you’d come close. He was nervous– no, frustrated. This was wrong. You were wrong and he didn’t have the strength in him to push you away. 

Finally, you arrived at a make-shift lab, hidden between the tall trees of Pandora. It already seemed abandoned, however; No signs of any crumbs to pick on nor any life. You hesitantly followed after Jake and Norm, trying your hardest not to come in contact with any of the unfamiliar machineries and gadgets. There was a lump situated on your throat while examining the place.

You’ve been here. You desperately try to recall those agonizing days; how they captured you, brought you here– maneuvered your body, but those memories only come in a distant haze. You can’t remember it– you didn’t want to.

“This place has been long ditched,” The coast was deemed clear and for a minute, you felt relieved. “We came here for nothing.” 

“But it proves something, Jake, they’re here again.” Norm tries to prove a point, grabbing him by the shoulder.

“Exactly! They’re here and we knuckleheads are exploring an already abandoned lab– they could be anywhere already.”

“We could not have known,” You intervene, trying to defuse the tension. “Let’s not waste time and return already.” 

Before any of you could take a step, static interrupts everyone’s movements. He expected the voice of his sons, probably reporting him of another ruckus they caused– however, what followed made his heart leap out of his chest and caused an old flame to rekindle. 

“Can you hear me, Corporal?” A pause, “Yeah, I think you can.” 

“Listen, I have your children. These little rascals could really use some serious discipline– figured they should know better when they’re talking to someone older.” He laughed on the other line. Jake could hear their voices in the background– his children, desperately calling their dear father for help. 

Then for a second, there was Neytiri. Guilt reprimanded him yet again for failing her– for failing everyone. He deprived his children of their mother and he was miles away today from saving them. A father protects– that’s what gives him meaning; however, with the circumstances that stood laughing at his face today, Jake Sully knew he was already a lost man.

“How are you– where,” He wracked his brain for the right words, the deadly situation slowly getting the best of him. He composed himself with a deep inhale,  “Where did you find us?

“Followed someone, you might’ve met her.” It’s a straight strike to the stomach and he could feel his very breath yanked harshly from his chest. Quaritch clicked his tongue, his eyes darted on the blinking red dot on the GPS from where you stood far far away from them. “In fact, she must be busying you right now, huh? It’s been a while since I’ve seen you slacking.” 

In an instant, his eyes turned to you. If looks could kill, his sharp gaze would cut through your throat with ease. You were certain that his teeth would shatter with the way he clenched his jaw. The aura Jake emitted was murderous; the unknown predators that littered the forest was nothing with the Toruk Makto in front of you, ready to pounce– ready to kill.

“You’re a dead man, Quaritch.” A chuckle from the other line. 

“I’ll be waiting.” 

You were done for.

Tags: @totesnothere04 @ladylovegood-69 @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @tsireyassgurl

☆ mauve here! just want to clear a few things up because god damn, this is becoming a bit far from being canon (which actually is, since i’m not following the storyline accordingly) BUT as far as i remember, norm does not own an ikran(??) so for the sake of this series (bear with me) just imagine that he does 😭

this series did not spark joy. i don’t think i did much justice— i’m still really rusty from months of inactivity. this is what i get for putting all my writing on hold

will edit this from time to time, as i do so with my other works because i’m indecisive like that. mauve out >:[

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

So I saw someone wrote "If you are so freaky why don't you sit on my lap and watch me in my eyes while I finger you" and wiyllt I can't help but think that that's something Yoongi would say. I have not been the same ever since and him manspreading in the NBA like that didn't help.

remember, you asked for it.

“Why don’t you?”

He couldn’t be serious.

You ticked your head. Really? Did Min Yoongi know who he was dealing with? Your back was already to him, body turned to step away, hands in pockets, halfway to dismissal and then he threw down the challenge in his low, calm voice like it was nothing.

You tucked your tongue in your cheek and turned around.

Curled it quick and created a sharp popping sound, narrowing your eyes to dark brown orbs that did not balk under the ferocity of your gaze. They did not back down then and they did not back down seconds later when you closed the distance between you and him, lifting your chin and letting your breath waft over his lips.

“Sit down.”

Most people would have some shame, or at least some hesitation, but most people weren’t self-proclaimed freaks. Most people flapped their jaws and fell apart when confronted with someone of equal or higher power. Most people couldn’t talk the talk and walk the walk.

But you weren’t most people.

Min Yoongi wasn’t most people either because, apparently, he thought he knew what he was doing, provoking you like that.

He looked the part. You would give him that. Teal and black bomber jacket, white shirt, black jeans. Long black hair swept to one side, a dark wave cradling his right cheekbone. Black-brown eyes that contrasted the gleaming fairness of skin. Shapely, dark rose-colored lips that curved into a faint smirk as you flicked your ankle and caught your panties in one hand.

You didn’t bother removing your heels.

You needed them, actually.

You did dump your heavyweight black leather jacket onto his sofa before stepping over to the dining room chair that Yoongi had dragged over and sat down in. That left you in your tight, red velvet minidress, which immediately hiked up when you stepped over his right leg with your left, and then even further up your ass when your right crossed over his left.

You were still holding your panties.

Slinky black, no seams.

Even if the color wouldn’t show through the thick velvet, the seams would have. Not that it mattered now, considering that you weren’t wearing them and instead shoving them in Yoongi’s bomber jacket pocket, deliberately getting close to his face in the process, already locking eyes with him.

You whispered against his lips.

“Hold those for me.”

His expression didn’t change.

“Of course.”

Alright, that was pretty impressive, not reacting to that.

You smiled slyly, mocking the demure.

Min Yoongi held your gaze and spread his legs further apart.

You immediately adjusted your stance, placing your left hand on his shoulder. The hem of your dress finally gave up, popping up and over the curve of your ass, bunching at your waist. Cold air snaked up the back of your thighs. Hm. A precarious position. You noticed movement in those black locks and those dark brown orbs below you shifted.

You jammed two fingers under his chin and forced his head up, pointedly looking down at him, eye to eye, your eyebrow cocking.

“We’ve already begun.”

He did not look surprised but he did not look bothered by your forcefulness either.

“Yoongi.”

He smirked, open-mouthed and dangerous.

“I like your tone.”

A second passed by, and then his lips formed your name, slow and smokey and intoxicating. You stayed rigid, index and middle finger under his jaw, one hand on his shoulder, legs spread above his lap. Stillness. There was feline quality to those eyes you were staring into. Predatory, but making you question if he had any real interest. Striking, and yet he wasn’t going for it.

Inhale.

Exhale.

His rough fingertips touched the inside of your thigh.

Cold to heat. You almost flinched, but there was too much stubborn resolve. If this was a showy display of peacock feathers, there would have been a lot more talking, but this was two apex predators ready to fight, so there was nothing but controlled silence, nothing but the faint sound of breathing between you and Yoongi. The pads of his fingers danced up your leg, and yours slid along the curve of his jaw, the rest of them resting on the side of his neck.

Yoongi raised an eyebrow.

You quirked your head back.

“Didn’t say I couldn’t touch you.”

He nodded. The action was so slight that you felt it more than saw it. You were too busy staring into his eyes anyway.

“You can touch me all you want,” he murmured, implying that you would want to.

You narrowed your eyes.

His index finger skimmed your slit, smearing the slick. He licked his lips, splaying his long fingers across the inside of your thighs, his large palm making it easy. Let himself hover there. You didn’t say anything.

Your fingernail flicked his earrings.

His hand tipped and pressed against your crotch, covering your heat with sudden coolness.

You sucked in a faint gasp, the abrupt action catching you off guard.

“You know why I wanted to do this?”

His whisper was hot, laced with lust. Tension was creeping up your legs, anticipation becoming tingling sparks throughout your nerves, and still you kept your breathing controlled, locked into Min Yoongi’s intense stare.

“I simply wanted to appreciate the exquisite perfection that was your eyes.”

He slowly slid his middle finger into your tight, wet hole.

You felt heat on your cheeks and it wasn’t because this incredibly attractive man was steadily pumping his finger in and out of your pussy. A flash of amusement shimmer though those dark orbs. Yoongi leaned his head into your hand, lashes lowering, casting alluring shadows over his gaze.

You didn’t say anything.

Didn’t trust yourself to say anything.

Instead, you tightened your core and watched Yoongi’s expression change as he realized you were squeezing him.

“Oh?”

Your hand slid up from his neck to his hair, combing your fingers though, messing up those thick black locks. Curved your fingers inward, tugging lightly.

Wordlessly, you dared him.

Understandably, Yoongi replied by shoving another finger into you.

You held your breath.

In, out, clenching around him, slippery friction and building pleasure racing over your skin and through your blood, looking into his eyes and letting the sensations consume you. Not too fast, not too slow, deliberate and deep and pressing against your walls. No fear, no indecision, only lust, angling your hips slightly, fuck, deeper, watching the desire cloud his gaze, his shallow breathing feathering against your skin, slow smirk forming on his lips.

Your hand slid up his scalp and then your nails dragged down as you exhaled, ragged and sultry.

He flinched, but pressed his hair against your palm all the same, lids lowering, not breaking eye contact, and there was something in the back of your mind trying to remind you this was a test of tenacity, that Yoongi was playing you as elegantly as expertly as he played any instrument, but you didn’t care because you could see him gracefully unraveling too, leaning into your hold.

Harder.

Faster.

Right there in his living room, your juices sticking to the inside your spread legs, no mistaking the wet sound of palm to crotch, your hips suddenly following his rhythm, deepening his thrusts so you felt more, so he felt more, so good, so close to saying it but refusing and it didn’t even matter because you could see he was thinking the same thing too, on the edge with you.

Your face was getting closer and closer to Yoongi’s with every thrust, until you could feel his breath mesh with yours, wanton hunger saturating the air.

Your tongue snaked out and licked the edge of his smirk.

“Don’t stop even if I cum,” you whispered softly.

His voice had a rasp to it, a combination of exertion and insatiable desire.

So close, so close.

“Kiss me,” he commanded.

It was too late, too late to turn back, too close to the high, closing in, core tightening, breath held, eye to eye, trouble staring into danger, your fingers twisting in his long hair, gripping tight, air between you and him burning with sexual tension and then, gone.

Your lips collided into his.

Your hips bucked and you shuddered, eyelids fluttering but not closing, making sure you were watching him and that he was watching you while you orgasmed onto his thrusting fingers, the crashing wave amplified by the continuation of rough movement, him fucking you through the high, viscous sweet slick all over his palm and the inside of your legs, gasp torn from your throat as he shoved another finger in, adding a third.

Your head cast his in shadow, ensnaring him in kiss after kiss, both hands in his hair and fucking his hand right above his lap, vicious strength adding to the punishing pleasure, not looking away, never looking away, in fact, making it a damn point to stare Yoongi down as he rammed his fingers into your pussy and you rode them, legs burning, blood racing, your smirk against his open mouth, tracing his shaking lips with your agile tongue.

“Touch yourself,” you hissed.

You thought he wouldn’t. Pride, defiance, maybe not wanting to gift you that particular satisfaction because he was a man or whatever, but either Yoongi didn’t give a shit about that or he knew that if he listened, he would turn you on even more.

He didn’t say anything.

You felt his shoulder move and his free hand had to be pressing against his erection since he groaned against your hot lips, his gaze sharpening.

No distracting flourish or extra display of dominance.

Just palmed his hard-on under you while he fingered you, chuckling as he felt your muscles throb around his fingers.

“You like that, don’t you?” he murmured, striking a nerve.

“You wanna fuck me with it, don’t you?” you retorted.

“Yeah, I do.”

Didn’t even fucking hesitate.

So dangerous, that Min Yoongi.

“All day and all night, but you’re gonna outlast me so I have to get creative.”

Fuck, he played you. Elegantly and expertly like an instrument, pressed all the right buttons and plucked all the right strings, just the right amount of push and pull to make the game fun, taking you to the edge, dark eyes darker, pumping his fingers into your tight, wet pussy, letting you watch the pleasure overtake his expression as he teased himself.

Yoongi broke his own rule and closed his eyes, moaning into your mouth.

You pulled onto his hair and his head fell back, exposing his neck to your tongue, pressing it flat to his shaking throat and licking upwards, moaning with him as you came, clenching around his hand and thighs trembling, muscles hard from tension and holding your balance from the back-to-back orgasms, collapsing a little into his chest, the overwhelming rush tearing away all concentration and drowning you in erotic bliss.

Fuck.

You pushed his head down.

Kissed him, long and deep, closing your eyes to savor his lips.

Sank down, your body giving up, but it seemed like Yoongi was at his limit too or at least wanted to oblige you, letting your shuddering thighs touch, his fingers pulling out, smearing your release onto your hip as he yanked you closer, holding your ass and pressing your wet crotch to his clothed erection, making you hiss and grind against him, something addictively pleasurable in the rough friction and how insufficient it was.

You sucked on his lip, sharp and painful.

Yoongi hummed, amused.

Released him, growling against his shallow breath.

“Don’t question me again.”

You opened your eyes and you realized he did too, almost within the same beat, first looking down between your bodies at your open legs and naked pussy, to your bunched-up dress, red velvet hugging your torso, to the tension in your collarbones and neck, to your lips swollen with his kisses, and then to your eyes, settling there, admiring every detail like he owned it.

He half-smiled, tilting his head playfully.

“You wanted me to question you. No one mentions they’re good at sex and doesn’t want to show off.”

Well, shit.

“So, what else you wanna show me?”

You could get off him and tell him to go fuck himself, but you had been sitting on his hard dick seconds before and let’s just say further investigation was required. You didn’t bother saying too much. Skip the big and talk and go straight for the walk, after all.

You grinned and stuck out your tongue, curling it in the air enticingly.

Yoongi’s lips curved into that open-mouthed, dangerous smirk.

[tascha-schwarz]

Imagine… waking up next to Barbossa on the rainy morning

A gust of wind flaps the window open, blowing the curtains to the sides and revealing a picturesque view in the predawn twilight of the upcoming day.

Cool air that breaks into the room disturbs your sleep, sending shivers across uncovered parts of your skin. Your eyes flutter open. You leisurely turn around on your pillows to check if the man you fell asleep with, the one you love more than anything in the world, is still sleeping. It doesn’t surprise you to find out he’s not. Leaning on the headboard, he smiles instead, fondly looking at you. Vibrant glint of his eyes suggests he’s spent a while like this. You can’t help but answer his smile, and your lips stretch in a silent “good morning”.

“Long awake?” you mumble sleepily and reach out to him. Still lacking on strength in your limbs, you softly caress his face in a feeble attempt to pull him into a kiss. Barbossa instantly heeds to your gesture and sinks lower. His hand lands on your hip, and you feel his grip tighten slightly as a gentle evidence of passion that never stops flaring within his chest. With little pressure he rubs your thigh and glides back up to the curve of your waist, drawing you closer. He’s just inches away. Warm spark of happiness lights up his eyes, and you can no longer take yours off him.  

“When yer beside,” his eyebrows twitch slightly as he watches you with endearment, “I lose da track of time.” Smiling tenderly, he removes a strand of hair from your face and kisses you softly. Astounding, how delicate is the touch of a man of such a severe – many would say threatening – appearance.

“Hector,” you chuckle quietly under his lips. You know he can spend an hour like this, just admiring you.

It’s murky outside; the sky is covered with dark dense clouds, which daunt to burst in downpour any moment. The last week wasn’t favorable for sailing, and you’re happy to spend a few extra days with Hector on land, in the peaceful solitude of your new house.

Barbossa bought this house for you, but you never happen to be alone here: either he stays with you in between the raids, or you accompany him on board, and the rest of the time the house remains empty, for how long – depends on the course his ship is keeping, be it just a couple of weeks or several months.  

Cold wind blasts into the room with another powerful gust. First drops hit the eaves with impudent loud clatter, and the sky releases a torrent of rain straight away. The lightning splits the vault, chased by the deafening thunder roll, that shatters the air with frightening intensity. You shrink, hiding your head in your shoulders.

“Come ‘ere,” Barbossa turns on his back, and stretches out his arm, inviting you into his hold. You snuggle next to him, resting your head on his shoulder. He pulls the blanket up, thoroughly tucking you in, and wraps you up in his strong arms. You close your eyes and relax in comforting tightness of his loving embrace. For you there is no safer place in the world.

“Sleep some more. It’s too early,” he mutters tenderly, and you feel his hoarse voice vibrate softly in his chest, complemented by quiet rhythmic heartbeat. You take a moment to listen. Here he is, alive, all yours. Every night you pray this heart would never stop beating, not in your lifetime. You can’t imagine your life without him and will unhesitantly sacrifice yours for the sake of his.

“No,” you whisper, “don’t want to leave you alone.” You try to fight sleep, unwilling to waste a single minute that you can spend with him, but the warmth of his body and the soft shelter of blankets pull you back into a dream, and you realize you’re guaranteed to lose this fight.

Hector laughs. “Ye don’ look like leavin’!”

“My body will stay with you,” you murmur drowsily, “but not my conscious mind.”

“Tha’ will do,” he tilts his head and presses his cheek against your forehead. “Fer another half an hour, a’ least.” His beard tickles your face, and you smile. You shift in his arms, nestling cozily, rub your head against his shoulder and nuzzle into his neck. Stroking his chest, you plant a kiss on a random spot where your lips could reach when you stopped moving and finally ease off.

“I feel so good with you, Hector,” you whisper, slowly drifting into slumber.

“Me too, me dear.” His lips touch your forehead, and a large hand lands softly on your temple. “Sleep tight. I’ll be there,” his quiet voice calms and gives comfort while the storm rages. “I’ll always be there...”

[totallynotbat]

Revived Preening

Summary: Phil gets unexpected visits, his revived boys have returned. And they both remind Phil to laugh every once in awhile.

T/W: Swearing, Mentions of death, Feet tickling, Light Bondage/Restraints.

Longest fic I have ever written, and I’m very proud of it. ^W^

Relationship is platonic! No ship tags!

Word Count!: 6,547 words 39,414 characters

Special thanks to @someone1348 for helping me on ideas on some parts on Wilbur’s and Tommy’s dialogue, along with grammar errors.

Tickle Fic no like click off.

Enjoy!

Philza turned his head to the sound of the door knocking, he didn’t expect anyone to visit him today. 

He slowly walked and opened the door, looking up at the figure in the doorway, a wide eyed shocked expression made its way on Phil’s face, his pointy feathered ears lowering a bit. 

“Hey Phil…I’m back…” 

Tommy smiled brightly at the man in the doorway, a white streak in his blonde curls. 

Phil wrapped his arms around him, pulling and hugging him close, the door shutting behind him. 

“I’m so glad your alive…” Phil mumbled, tears at the edge of his eyes. “I thought I lost you…” 

“Aw Phil!” Tommy smiled softly. 

The two sat on the couch, Tommy cuddling up with Phil, the two sitting in silence for a bit. Tommy placing an arm across Phil’s side, rubbing his hand against it, noticing how Philza flinched a bit. 

Phil squeaked, biting his lip, looking up at Tommy who had a confused look on his face. 

“You good?” Tommy asked concerned. 

“Yeah…”

Phil gasped again once Tommy touched his sides, grabbing the edge of the couch, hoping Tommy dosent notice, but he did, of course he did. 

Tommy looked up, a hushed tone in his voice. “Is something wrong? Did I hurt you?” 

“No…it’s fine Toms, it’s fine…” Phil mumbled, feeling giggles wanting to come out. 

It took Tommy a few, then it clicked, slipping his hands under Phil’s shirt, lightly tracing circles into his sides. 

“Does this tickle?” Tommy smirked, a small tease in his tone. 

Philza squeaked at the word, squirming more but with Tommy being taller it was kinda hard to escape. 

“Nohoho it doesn’t!” Phil mustered out. 

“Oh I think it does~” Tommy teased, scribbling a finger across the avian’s ears, which moved from the gentle touch. “You wanna laugh, Don’t you Giggleza?” 

Phil tightened his grip on the couch more, looking at Tommy with a bitten lip. 

Tommy shook his head, going back down towards Phil sides, scratching and scribbling the skin. "Your so old Phil, you know you're going to crack soon, you can't hold your ticklishness back when you age Phil!" 

Philza rolled his eyes, but Tommy was right, he can’t hold his laughter back for that much longer, his hand was red from gripping the couch cushion, giggles continuing to build up in his chest, his lip having a curled smile as a reddish blush formed on his face and ears.

“Tom-“ Phil covered his mouth with his hands.

"Come on Philll, you know you want to laughh~ a little giggle for me?~" Tommy continued with a smirk. But Phil kept his hands over his mouth, biting his lip, his ears twitching with a tip of red at the edge, shaking his head slowly.

"Phillll~ Tickle Tickle tickleee~ you'll break Giggleza just you wait." Tommy sped up his tickly fingers, as they danced around his sides and stomach. 

“Eep!-Mmf!” Phil squeaked a bit, his ears continuing to get more red, a small smile curled on his face behind his hands, looking at Tommy with a small playful glare, as if to say: ‘I’m not going to break.’

Tommy smirked, rolling his eyes with a grin. "Righhht surre, Mr "I’m so tough until I’m tickled Dadza.”, we’ll see about that buddy, Tickletickletickletickle~"

“MMF-Eep! Hehehe! Nohoho! Hahaha!” Phil giggled into his hands, his ears continuing to flap as his blush darkened, his giggles then went up an octave, not removing his hands from his face, his wings twitching a bit in response.

"Tickle Tickle Tickleee Phill~ I'm gonna getcha!~" Tommy continued speeding up a bit, wiggling his fingers over the sensitive skin.

“Ehehehehahaha!!!” Phil squirmed. “Nohoho!”

"Yehehes!" Tommy mocked, teasing him a bit.

“Tohohohomy! QUHUHUIT it! Itit tickles!” Phil leaned himself more into the couch. 

"Neverr!!! Tickletickletickletickle, awww I bet it does tickle hmm so giggly and ticklish that's rightt, tickletickletickletickletickle! Tktktktktktktk~" Tommy continues the teasing and tickling as Phil laughed and squeaked from the touch.

“Ehehehehahaha!!! Shihihihit! Hahahaha!!!” Philza squealed, letting out a snort, his shirt rolled up, showing a bit of skin. “Tohohohomy! Hehehahaha!” He squirmed around, keeping his hands over his mouth.

Tommy cooed. “Awwww, just look at that lovely blush Phil! Tickle.Tickle.Tickle~" with every pause Tommy took, he moved his fingers more towards his ribs. 

“Ehehehehe! Tohohohomy! Haha!” Phil rolled off the couch, falling onto his back on the floor with a thud, giggling. “Nohoho teheheasing! Ehehehe!”

"Phihil! You okay?!" Tommy followed him down laughing a little, staying on the couch.

Tommy coming nearly in front of him so quickly made Phil flinch with a giggle. “Y-yeah, I’m fine.” Phil’s giggles spilling out of his mouth slowed down as he sat up. “I’m fihihihine mate.”

"Good good, now come here!" Tommy leaped off of the couch like a cat, lunging at the avian, squeezing Phil’s hips in a hope of pinning him down faster.

“ACK! Tommy! Wait-don’t!” Phil was quickly tackled down, squirming around trying to get away, knowing deep damn well Tommy won’t let him go, as the smirk on the younger’s face widened more. 

“S-safeword! Tommy please, can I use a safeword!” Phil asked quickly knowing he was going to get wrecked.

"Of course Phil! Safe word is ‘I’m a ticklish birdie~’" Tommy smirked, joking around with a laugh. 

Philza rolled his eyes, giggling a bit once Tommy traced a finger down his side. 

"I’m kihihidding Phil! Haha! It's actually mercy! That's your safe word!" Tommy smiled. 

“Alright mate…” Phil smiled, rolling his eyes with a sigh, ears flapping in anticipation. “Ready when you are…” 

Tommy smirked. “I don’t think you will be.” 

Tommy immediately started with a raspberry to his stomach before skittering up his sides and back down again with such accuracy and speed Phil would think he wasn't human, but then again he's Tommy, so he wouldn't expect anything less! "Tickletickletickletickle"

“TOHOHOHOMY OH GOHOHOHOD! HAHAHAHA!!!” Phil squealed immediately, squirming around, almost thrashing, his wings flapping a bit.

“GHEHEHEHAHAHAHA!!!” His laughter went up an octave once Tommy hit a lower part of his ribs. “NAHAHAHA!!! IT TICKLES MAHAHAHATE!!!” 

"Good that means it's working! I'm gonna getcha!'" Tommy exclaimed, tickling his hallows before going back down and nibbling on his lower set of ribs.

“HAHAHAHA!!! NAHAHAT NIBBLES!!!” Phil squealed, squirming around to try and get away. 

“TOHOHOHOMY! OHOH GOHOHOHODS!!!” Phil squirmed attempting to cover up the sensitive areas.

"Tickle tickle tickleee Dadzaa~" He continued scribbling against his neck. 

“Hehehehahahaha! Nahahat thehehe neheheck!” Phil squeaked. “I-it tickles!”

"Good! Tickletickletickletickle!" Tommy said continuing, before blowing a raspberry into his neck.

“PFFT-HAHAHAHA!!!” Phil squealed, tipping his head back a bit.

"Nom nom nom, the tickle monster eats your giggles up for breakfast!" He continued nibbling a bit on his neck while also scribbling along his sides. 

“NAHAHA!!!” Phil squealed, wings flapping a bit.

“TOHOHOHOMY I CAHAHANT-“ Phil’s sentence was cut off as he laughed, babbling out pleads. 

"Codeword Phil! Mercy!" Tommy continued, just a bit lighter this time.

“Yeah…I knohohow!” Phil giggled.

"Good!" Tommy blew a raspberry into his stomach.

“AH! AHAHA! NAHAHAT THEREHEHE!!!” Phil cried out, arching his back up.

"Oh not hereee?~" Tommy uses all ten didgets to tickle his stomach. 

“EHEHEHEHAHAHA!!!” Phil squealed, kicking out his legs, his laughter going up an octave once Tommy hit near his belly button.

Tommy dipped a finger in his bellybutton and wiggled it around. 

“PFFT-HAHAHAHA! TOHOHOHOMY OH GOHOHOHODS!!!” Phil squealed, kicking out his socked feet, a few feathers landing next to Tommy. 

"Oohoho! What's this!~" Tommy picks up a feather slowly lowering it towards his bellybutton.

“Tommy-Don’t you dare-” Phil glared playfully at the blonde child, who glared back with a smile.

“Oh I dare!” He puts the feather in his bellybutton and wiggles it around. Sending a ticklish electricity through the avian.

“PFFT-MMF!” Phil covered his mouth, a few snickers escaping his mouth. Glaring at Tommy with a face of ‘I won’t break’.

"Since you're so stubborn, old man." Tommy said jokingly, as he went down and tickled his feet with both his hands and the feather switching every now and then to throw him off.

“Mmf!” Phil bit his lip, closing his eyes tightly curling his foot a few times, the look on his face made it look like he would break any second from the in and out switches.

Phil glared playfully up at Tommy, his ears flapping and flustering in anticipation, a red blush on his face behind his hands.

"Tickletickletickletickle~" He could hear someone say.

“Hehehe! Hahaha! Nohoho! Hehehehahaha!” Phil cracked into light giggles, his ears twitching and flapping as he laughed. “I-It tickles! Ehehehe!” 

"Gotcha! Good it's supposed to! Tickle Tickle Tickleee Philll~" Tommy cooed.

“Ehehe! Nohoho! Teheheasing! Haha!” Phil rested his hands at his sides, showing a flustered smile, his toes wiggling as he laughed. 

Tommy smirked, tickling his toes leaving no spot untickled, moving the feathers in between.

“Pfft-Hahahaha! Nahahat the tohohoes! Ehehehe!” Phil squeaked, his laughter going up an octave into giggles, his giggles being squeaky and bubbly, his wings flapping a bit.

“Yes the toes! Ticklish little toes! This little piggy went to the market-”

Phil leaned back, remembering and cursing himself for doing the rhymes all the time with Wilbur when he was younger, Tommy continued, wiggling the feathers in between each of Phil’s sensitive toes.

Tommy said the entire little piggy rhyme before going back to his soles and arches again.

“Hahahaha! Ehehehehahaha!!!” Phil was lost in a sea of giggles to even talk, he was kind of enjoying it, it was proven to him and Tommy, once Phil chirped, then letting out a trill.

Tommy blinked, a bit surprised, he smiled happy to see Philza enjoying himself as he continued.

“Tohohms! Ehehehe! It-It reheheally tihihihickles!” Phil laughed, letting out another chirp, leaning his head back, trying to cover up his flustered face with his arms, his red ears twitching as he giggled softly. 

"Good good, laugh it up king you deserve it! Tap out whenever!" Tommy continued, now scribbling behind his knees too. 

Phil squeaked, kicking out his leg a bit, trying not to hit Tommy in the face. 

“Woah!” Tommy fell over to the side, laughing before swiping up his soles and then nibbling his knees. 

“TOMMY! Ehehehehahaha! Nohoho! Nahahat-Hahahaha! Hehehehahaha!” Phil giggled, his laughter then went up an octave once Tommy began nibbling, trying to roll himself over, flopping onto his right side, leaving his wings exposed a bit, giggling. 

“Nohoho nihihibling…” Phil mumbled.

"I can nibble all I want." Tommy joked before tracing his wings.

“Eep!” Phil squeaked, his wings flapping a bit, biting his lip. 

"It's just us Philly! Let those adorable giggles out!" Tommy assured, properly tickling his wings this time.

“Ehehe! Hehe! Hahahaha! It-hehe! t-tickles!” Phil rolled onto his stomach, allowing Tommy a hopefully more comfortable access to his wings, breaking into light bubbly giggles. As Tommy continues speeding up a little. 

“Ehehehehe!” Phil squeaked, resting his head on folded arms, letting out another chirp, followed by trills, enjoying himself in a long time.

Tommy smiled at his enjoyment, so cute, before blowing a raspberry into his wings. 

“Ehehehehahaha!!!” Phil squealed, wings flapping a bit. “Eheheasy on thehe raspberries! Mahahate!”

“Itit tickles!-Hehehe! Hahahaha!” Phil giggled into his arms, his eyes looking up happily at Tommy.

Tommy nodded. “Will do!" He continues lighter smiling.

Phil squeaked, closing his eyes, relaxing to the gentle tickling. “Tohohohomy?”

Tommy slowed his tickling down a bit, looking down at Phil, seeing how giggly he was.

“Cohohould you go a bit faster? Plehehease?” Phil chirped.

Tommy smiled trying not to hug Phil at his enjoyment. "Absolutely big man!" He continued faster, tracing the base of his wings.

“Pfft-Ehehehehahaha!” Phil giggled, letting out another chirp, practically melting into the tickling, trying to muffle his light bubbly giggles escaping his mouth. Phil’s wings twitched a bit, him trying to be careful to not hit Tommy in the face. “Shihihihit! Ehehehe! Hahahaha!”

"You're safe Phil, Your feathers won't hurt me, you can flap your heart out my friend!" Tommy continued even faster than before, tracing a finger across Phil’s ribs. 

“Mmf! Hehehehehahaha!” Phil giggles went up an octave, followed by a chirp and a trill, wings flapping a bit. “Ehehehehahaha! Hehehe!” Phil pressed his face into his arms, giggling, looking up at Tommy with a flustered smile, his wings continuing to twitch.

“Ah Ah Ah! I wanna see that smiling face!" Tommy gently took Phil’s arms off of him, holding them down by his legs, going back to his sides and wings. 

“Ehehehehe!” Phil giggled, a red blush on his face and at the tip of his ears, his ears flapping and twitching like his wings were, a flustered smile on his face as he laughed, resting his head on folded arms.

“Itit Thihihickles!” Phil chirped.

Tommy continues with a smile. “Good it's supposed to! Tickletickletickletickle Tickleeee~”He smirked before blowing another raspberry on his stomach and tickling under his arms at the same time.

“Ehehehahaha! Tohohohomy! Haha! Nohoho teheheasing! Hehehe!” Phil’s laughter went up an octave, his ears twitching, which they could be possibly ticklish.

Tommy smiled, tracing a hand through the wing ears. 

“Hehehehahahaha! It tickles! Ehehehe!” Phil giggled, his ears flapping and twitching, a dark shade of red on them.

"Good! Tickletickletickletickle~" Tommy whispered close to Phil’s ear, before blowing making it tickle more. 

“Ehehehe! Hahaha!” Phil giggled, his ears flapping to the ticklish sensation, his wings flapping in the same way, he covered his flustered face with his hands, trying to muffle his giggles.

"Phillll, what did I say about covering your smiling face?" Tommy smiled, gently taking his hands off of his mouth, Phil smiling back, a flustered grin on his face, giggling.

"Good, now these." Tommy placed Phil’s hands back on the ground. "Stay here!" He blew a raspberry into his neck, giggling into it to make it tickle more, while skitering his fingers across his sides. 

“HEHEHEHAHAHAHA!!!” Phil squealed, trying to squirm around to get away, not to cover up his flustered face, leaning his head back, trying to push Tommy away, but he couldn’t help but to cover his face, it tickled for him too badly.

"Phillllll~" Tommy giggled, not mad of course, pulling his hands away again. 

“Ehehehehe! It-It tickles!” Phil giggled, trying to move his head to hide his blush, his laughter going up an octave once Tommy blew another raspberry, Phil covering his mouth with one hand-

"That's it!" Tommy grabbed Phil’s hands with one hand, holding his wrists together, proceeding to tickle his stomach with the other hand, his fingers dancing over the sensitive skin.

“PFFT- HAHA! TOHOHOHOMY-HAHAHAHA!” Phil squealed, letting out a snort, his ears flapping and twitching. “EHEHEHEHAHAHA!!! NAHAHAT THEREHEHE!!! IT TICKLES!!!”

Tommy smirked one more time, blowing a raspberry into Phil’s stomach, nibbling and shaking his head to amplify the sensations. 

“EHEHEHEHAHAHA!!!” Phil squealed, squirming around to try and get Tommy off, lost in an ocean of screams of laughter. “ALRIHIHIHIGHT! ALRIHIHIHIGHT! MEHEHEHERCY! PLEHEHEASE I CAHAHANT-HAHAHAHA!” 

Tommy smiled and giggled before getting off of Phil.

“Hahahaha! -Hic- Hehehe!…Whew…Hehehe!…” Phil hiccuped a bit, his giggles died down slowly, looking at Tommy with a small smile, a blush still on his face, his ears flapping a bit. 

Tommy smiled back at him, giggling along with Phil. 

“My giggles arehehe contagious huhuhuh mate?” Phil chuckled a bit, covering his mouth when he giggled, trying to stop the blush on his face, the tingling sensation in his body at the moment made him giggle more, sitting up slowly.

"Yehes…" Tommy smiled, rubbing away the ghost tickles from Phil’s system, Phil giggling in response. "I've got the giggle fever from you." He joked smiling at him. "Did I go to far?"

“You didn’t go to far Toms. I’m just…really ticklish?” Phil shrugged with a small giggle, blushing a bit. “I kinda of enjoyed that…Oh yeah, and I got the tickle attack cold from you.” Phil chuckled back.

"I completely understand! And good, you deserve to enjoy yourself!" Tommy smile grew, laughing at Phil's joke. "Yes yes! Very contagious!"

“Indeed.” Philza pulled Tommy into a hug, wrapping his wings around him. “Love you Toms…”

Tommy didn’t respond, tracing a hand through Phil’s kimono, wiggling his fingers across his wings. Phil hesitated on laughing, before squeaking and breaking into light giggles, the tracing was light, Tommy going back and forth, back and forth, before stopping. 

Tommy smiled, hugging him back. "Love you too Dad..."

Months later everything changed, for the whole server. Once Wilbur came back…revived.

In the snowy biome cabin home, the fireplace was lit as Wilbur hugged his father, noticing the black feathered wings twitching beside him.

“Oh…your wing…” Wilbur looked down concerned, noticing how much damage it took from the explosion, he remembered Ghostbur mentioning that Phil can’t fly anymore.

“Yeah…I know…” Phil sighed, lifting up the broken appendage. “It sucks…”

“Want me to try preening? It’s been awhile but it might help.”

“I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want too.” Phil retorted quickly. “I’m sure your schedule is busy and-“

“Phil.” Wilbur placed a hand on his father’s shoulder. “I insist, I got all the time in the world, you are my father after all.”

Phil smiled, nodding for consent.

After grabbing a few brushes and combs, Wilbur sat behind Phil, Phil spreading out his wings towards him, a little bit of guilt spread throughout his son as Wilbur looked at Phil’s broken wing.

“Okay, here we go.” Wilbur said, stroking a hand through Phil’s wing, noticing how Phil gasped.

“This okay?”

“Yeah…”

Wilbur’s voice went to a concerned hushed tone. “You gasped earlier, is everything okay? Did I hurt you?”

Phil inhaled sharply, his ears flapping and twitching, a small shade of red at the tip. “It’s fine Will…just keep going…”

It clicked for Wilbur, remembering when he was younger, how he used to get revenge on his father. “Ohh, I see.”

Wilbur purposely messed with the feathers, stroking and wiggling his fingers across, Phil covering his mouth with his hands, looking up at Wilbur.

“Wil-” Philza bit his lip, trying to stop the giggles building up in his chest, it tickled for the avian, and he hated that it did.

“Oh come now Phil, your giggles are my dynamite, let them out, it'll make me and you both very happy.” Wilbur smirked, sweetly stroking the black feathers carefully.

Phil shook a bit, shaking his head, not wanting to laugh so soon out of embarrassment.

"Philll~ you know you wanna laugh, come on just let your lil giggles out, it's good for you!" Wilbur teased, going a bit faster on the wing tips.

Phil shook his head, his ears turning more and more red, biting his lip, though the look on his face, well his eyes and ears at least, made it seem like he was going to break, and Wilbur knew this.

"Your head says 'no' but your ears say otherwise, Tickletickletickletickle~” Wilbur teased, flipping the feathers on the base of his wings.

“Ack-No! Ehehehe! Hehehehe! Hahahaha!” Phil began giggling softly into his hands, muffled, his ears continuing to flap around. “Nohoho!”

"There we go! Good job Phil! Aww, so giggly and ticklish, music to my ears! Tickle tickle tickleee~" Wilbur kept one hand on Phil’s wings, while the other moved from his neck and down to his sides, wiggling across the sensitive skin.

“Ahahahahaha! Ehehehe! Nahahat thehere!” Phil squeaked a bit from the neck tickles, squirming around when Wilbur touched his sides, still having his hands clamped on his mouth like a closed door. “Hahahaha!!!”

"Philza, take your hands off of your mouth before I do it myself." Wilbur smirked with a playfully warning glare and low tone voice, going a bit faster on his sides.

“Yeheheah? Try mehehe!” Phil squeaked playfully back, still squirming around, butterflies in his stomach from anticipation.

"That's adorable Phil, you underestimating me and all that. You asked for it~" Wilbur speeds up the tickling on his wings, scribbling across his neck as well to try and make him let go.

“PFFT-AH! AHAHA! WHIHIHIHILBUR! THAHAHAHAT TICKLES! HAHAHA!!!” Phil squealed, leaning his head back, his hands not letting go of his mouth, clamped hands together.

Wilbur sighed with a smile. "Fine Fine, you leave me no choice!~" His smirk grew as he inhaled and blew a giant raspberry into his fathers neck.

And Phil lost it.

“EHEHEHEHAHAHA!!! NOHOHOHO! NAHAT RASPBEHEHERRIES! WHIHIHIHILBUR!!!” Phil squealed, removing his hands from his mouth, a flustered redness on his face, his ears continuing to flap repeatedly, a huge grin on his face as he laughed.

“There's that smile!” Wilbur chuckled at Phil’s awaited reaction.

“Tickletickletickletickle~" Wilbur began his teases again, going for his ears before blowing another raspberry behind both of them.

“Whihihihilbur! Ahahahahaha! Ihihihi!” Phil’s ears flapped a bit, his blush getting more dark.

“Nohoho teheheasing!” The avian tried hiding himself when Wilbur said ‘tickle’, his giggles going up an octave.

“Aww why, does the teasing make it worse old man?~” Wilbur giggled at his own joke, moving his hands down to tickle his stomach.

“Whihihihilbur! Ehehehehahaha! Nuhuhu!” Phil squeaked, small snorts escaping from his mouth. “Nahahat therEHEHE!!!” He let out a strangled squeal once Wilbur traced across his naval, Wilbur noticed and went back, circling around the skin near the area.

“Yes here~” Wilbur smiled and wiggled his finger into Phil’s bellybutton.

“AH! AHAHAHAHAHA!” Philza squealed, curling himself into a ball, flopping and rolling onto his back, his shirt showing a bit of skin. “HEHEHAHAHA!!!” He kicked out his legs, showing his socked feet.

“What do we have here?~” Wilbur thought out loud before lifting his shirt up and wiggling all ten didgets into the ticklish skin of Phil’s stomach.

“PFFT-AHAHAHA! EHEHEHEHAHAHA!!!” Phil squealed, letting out an embarssed flustered snort, squirming around left and right. “IT TICKLES!!!”

"Good good, that means it's working." Wilbur giggled again, moving to Philza’s sides tickling up and down.

“NAHAHA! WHIHIHIHILL!” Phil screamed out, his wings twitching on his back, his laughter went up an octave as Wilbur hit a lower part of his ribs.

“Ohhhh I found another tickle spottt~” Wilbur smirked and tickled his lower ribs.

“OHOH GOHOHOHODS!!! NAHAHAT THEHEHE RIHIHIBS!!! HAHAHAHA!!!” Phil screamed out, squirming around, making sure he dosent hit Wilbur in the face, trying to cover the flush on his face with his hands, the two attacks on his two squealy spots, made him fluster more out of embarrassment of letting his giggly side out in awhile, at least in front of his son.

“WHIHIHIHILL!!!” Phil began snorting, hiccups peppering in between his giggles.

"That's my name Philza, don't wear it out!" Wilbur smirked one last time before blowing a huge raspberry into his stomach, sending a wave of ticklish electricity into the skin.

“AHAHA!!! EHEHEHEHAHAHA!!!” Phil squeaked, trying to roll onto his stomach to cover up the sensitive area, a few loose feathers from Phil’s wings on the floor beside Wilbur.

Wilbur noticed this and smiled, "Hmmm~" He smirked once more, picking a blackish grey feather up, running it down the back of his legs.

“GAHAHAHA!!!” Phil squealed, kicking out his legs, letting out squeaks and a few snorts. “NAHAHAT THEREHEHE!!!”

"Oh Philll~ I think I just found something good!" Wilbur held down Phil's ankles and took his socks off.

Phil gasped, knowing what he was going to do. Nope! Not today!

“Will…don’t you dare!” Phil said, butterflies filling in his stomach from anticipation. His feet curling up a bit once his socks were off.

“Oh I dare!" Wilbur smirked once more, dragging now, two feathers up his father’s soles.

“Pfft-Mmf!” Phil bit his lip tightly, giggles building up in his chest, his toes curling up as he tried not to laugh, looking at his musician son with a face of ‘I won’t break’.

Wilbur knew this face well enough from his childhood. "You do this every time Phil, you always say your not going to break but then I do this and—”

He tickles up and down his soles and in-between his toes, watching as Phil flinched and shook a bit, as the fluffy ends danced on the skin.

"Boom giggleville."

Philza shook his head, him trying to move his legs out of instinct, covering his mouth with his hands as muffled squeaking noises could be heard, shaking his head, trying not to let his giggly side out.

"So stubborn" Wilbur joked, reaching behind him, with one hand tickling the back of his knee, while his other hand swiftly tickles his right foot with the feather.

Phil squeezed his eyes shut, knowing that this was his Wilbur, one who is now tickling him, one who won’t hurt him, one who is back after he killed him, one who is kinda…helping him.

…And Phil is…enjoying it?…

“You're safe here Phil, you can let your giggles out, I promise everything is all good, it's just us.” Wilbur smiled sweetly down at Phil, and moved up to drag the feathers along the length of his sides.

Wilbur missed seeing Phil laugh as much since he was younger, he remembered tickling the avian for his father getting him all the time, and for Wilbur to hear Phil giggle, it was music for him. He missed this actually since he died, but he remembered Ghostbur tickling Phil a few times once Philza was under house arrest, which he thanked him for.

Philza, as much as he hated admitting it, he also missed this as well, despite being tickled by Ghostbur a few times before, he also has been tickled by Wilbur before, so it wasn’t surprising that Ghostbur remembered his tickle spots that day and some days when he had nightmares of killing Wilbur…

Luckily, Wilbur wouldn’t have to wait for long for the breaking point.

“Hehehe! Hahahaha! Hehehehahahaha!!!”

Phil began giggling softly, a flustered grin on his face, his ears and wings flapping and twitching at the same time as his giggles, him lowering his hands to his sides. His feet continue to curl in and out. “Ehehehe! Itit thihihickles! Hahahaha!”

"Good job Phil! You're doing great! Such wonderful giggles you have!" Wilbur’s smile grew, as he moved further up, and used the feathers to tickle behind his father’s ears, knowing that was a weak spot for the man.

“Shuhuhuhush yohohou! Hehehehahaha!” Phil’s ears twitched and flapped as the feathers stroaked across the skin, trying to hide his flustered face from the teasing and compliments.

“Hmmm no thanks! Tickletickletickletickle~"

Wilbur ditches the feathers, to tickle behind his ears himself with his tickly, wiggling fingers.

“Ehehehehahaha!!! Nuhuhu! Hahahaha!!!” Phil squeaked and hiccuped in between his giggles. He kinda scratches his neck, meaning he wants his neck tickled, but is a bit to flustered and dosent want to be an inconvenience to ask, hoping Wilbur notices.

And he did.

Wilbur smiled, dragging a finger from behind his ear to his neck and began tickling his neck, scribbling across the sensitive skin.

“Whihihihilbur! Itit reheheally is thihihickly! Hahahaha! Ehehehehahaha!” Phil chuckled, resting his head on Wilbur’s shoulder, his wings flapping in joy.

Wilbur slows down his tickling, giving the poor man a break. "Indeed it does Dadza!"

Phil continued giggling, as Wilbur continued, rubbing on the ghost tickles to try and calm him down.

Phil just kinda rests his head on Wilbur’s shoulder, giggles dying down, a flustered blush on his face. “Could you keep going?…please Wilbur?”

Wilbur tried so hard to not squee at his father in joy. "Of course Phil! Lay down and get comfortable, I'll do my thing!" He smiled, gripping his hands around both ankles.

Phil lays back a bit, relaxing on the floor, a wobbly smile on his face, his ears flapping a bit in anticipation.

“R-Ready when you are…” Phil mumbles under his breath. “Just tickle me already Will’s…” Phil playfully smiled, a bit nervous about what Wilbur is going to do.

“I've got you now Phil!" Wilbur used one hand to tickle his sole and arch, and the other hand to tickle the other foot with a fallen feather.

“Pfft-MMF!” Phil chuckled a tiny bit, seeing how long he could last for before breaking, his face curled into a smile, him biting his lip lightly, a red hue on his face and at the tips of his ears immediately.

“Nrgh…you won’t break me Will…” He spoke but then bit his lip when he felt giggles on his throat. A bit embarrassed letting himself giggle as much, but hey, he did ask for it.

And he was getting it.

Philza curled his foot inward a bit, trying to remove the tickling feeling, giving Wilbur a look of, ‘try me, you won’t break me’.

"Philll~ You and I both know you're going to break" Wilbur sped up the tickles on both feet, gliding along the arches and swiftly going across his soles and under his toes, leaving no spot untickled.

Phil squeaked a bit, feeling the tickly feeling all over, he couldn’t hold his laughter back anymore, not like Wilbur would let him anyway.

“PFFT ACK! Eep-! Hehehe! Hahahaha! Hehehehahaha!!! Hahahaha!” Phil cracked, giggling softly, a red hue on his face and ears, curling his foot in and out, wiggling his toes a few times, as giggles tumbled out of his mouth. “Ehehehehahaha!!!”

“Whihihihilbur it tickles-!” Phil squeaked a bit, his ears and wings twitching and flapping a bit, a sharp peep escaping from his mouth, followed by trills.

"Good, good, it's supposed to! Tickletickletickletickle~" Wilbur sped up the tickles, going faster on the sensitive skin.

“Ehehehehahaha! Nohoho! Hahahaha!” Phil covered his mouth with his hands, trying to muffle his laughter, he isn’t removing his hands anytime soon.

Phil’s blush got darker on his ears, the flush on his ears and his smile being covered by his hands.

"Oh you'll remove your hands, I just know it! I'm gonna getcha Phil! Tickle Tickle Tickle Tickleee~" Wilbur uses the feathers to tickle in-between his toes, while his hands tickle his soles and arches on the other foot.

“Ehehehehe! Nahahat the tohohoes! Hahahaha!” Phil squealed, his laughter going up an octave. “Nohoho! Teheheasing!” His wings flapping as he laughed.

"Yes the toes and Tickletickletickletickle Tktktktktktktk~" Wilbur focused all of his energy into his toes on both feet, leaving no spot untouched, which curled and moved in response.

“Teheheasing mahahakes it wohohorse! Ehehehehahaha!!! WHIHIHIHILL!!! Hahahaha!!!” Phil squirmed around, trying to get away, forcing himself to lie there and take it, keeping his mouth covered, kicking his leg out a bit.

“Oh Phillyy~ Tickletickletickletickle~ Someone's ticklish~" Wilbur teased some more, speeding it up even more on his right foot, and using his other hand to get behind his knee.

“Shuhuhut yohohou! I am nahHAHAHahat!” Phil squeaked, his high pitched laughter increasing more, opening his wings out more, revealing how they got a bit messed up while Phil was laughing. “Pfft-HAHAHAHA! NOHOHOHO!”

“IM NahaHAhahat that ticklish! Shuhuhut up Will!” Phil playfully teased, with his wings being up, it began exposing his top ribs, armpits, back, and his ears and neck.

“Oh yeah? Well see about that~" Wilbur smirked turning around, tickling all of the now exposed new tickle spots leaving no spot untickled. "You seem quite ticklish to me Phil~ Tickletickletickletickle~”

“PFFT-HAHAHAHA! WHIHIHIHILL!!!” Phil squealed, removing his hands from his mouth, showing his flustered face and smile. “EHEHEHEHAHAHA!!!” His wings flapped, trying to push Wilbur back, going limp a bit once Wilbur hit his back, his squeals going up an octave once Wilbur hit his top ribs.

Phil flapped his wings, trying to get away, only for him to land on his stomach, exposing his feet and back more, along with his wings and lower and upper ribs. “NAHAHA! WHIHIHIHILL HAHAHAHA!!! NAHAHAT THEHE RIHIHIBS AND BAHAHACK!!!” More feathers sprawled on the floor, the back of his feet curling up a bit.

"Yes there! Tickletickletickletickle~" He smirked, slowing his tickles down to a stop once more. "We're going to play a small game."

“O-okay?” Phil sat up a bit. “So uh…what is it?”

A nearby rope and blindfold stood a few feet away from Phil, Phil curious about what Wilbur had in mind.

“Oh, just a little something" Wilbur grabs both the blindfold and rope and wiggled his fingers.

“Eep!” Phil giggled a bit, backing up a bit in anticipation.

“Whahahat kind of something…Hehehe!” Phil chuckled, trying to keep his giggles at bay.

Phil found himself not able to move his hands, finding the rope bound to his wrists, followed by Wilbur walking in front of him. “Will…what are you planning?”

“A game Phil, you're going to love it." Wilbur placed the blindfold around his eyes tightly and smirked.

“Ack! Hey!” Phil tried flapping his wings to get away, not like he could get anywhere, unless he wanted to end up face first into a brick wall.

“Will! Don’t you dare what I think you are going to do!” Philza fell onto his back, his arms above his head, a bit worried about what his son was going to do to him.

"Don't worry Phil, you are safe I promise, I'm just gonna do this!" Wilbur assured, tickling his sides and stomach.

“Eep! Hehehey! Hehehe!” Phil giggled, squirming around a bit. “Whihill! Ehehehehahaha! It-thahahat tickles!”

“Whihihihilbur!” Phil let out a strangled squeal once he hit his stomach, right near his belly button.

"Good I’m so glad it's working, Tickle tickle tickleee~" Wilbur smirked, tickling his bellybutton, wiggling his finger into the sensitive naval.

“HeheheHAHAHAHA!!! WHIHIHIHILL! NAHAHAT THEREHEHE!!!” Phil squealed, his laughter going up an octave, his ears flapping and twitching, a light shade of red at the tip.

“Yes here~" He smiles blowing a raspberry into his ticklish skin right above his bellybutton, Phil falling into helpless laughter.

“PFFT- HAHAHAHA NOHOHOHO HEHEHE-HAHAHAHA!!! NAHAHAT RASPBERRIES!!!” Phil squirmed, letting out a series of snorts.

Phil curled himself up, at the very least tried, only for a few feathers to land next to Wilbur and him as he squealed and laughed from the touch.

Wilbur smiled picking up the feather and tickling all over his tickle spots leaving no spot untickled, staying near his father’s ribs and feet a few times.

“EHEHEHEHAHAHA!!! WHIHIHIHILL HAHAHAHA!!!” Phil squealed, flapping his wings attempting to get away, curling his feet up as he laughed, flopping himself onto his back.

"I'm gonna getcha'~ Tickletickletickletickle~" Wilbur smirked using one hand to tickle his ears, ribs and neck and his other hand wiggling his five tickly didgets all over his belly, sides, back and stroked the soft feather in between his toes.

“PFFTHAHAHAHA!!! STAHAHAP-HEHEHEHAHAHAHA!!!” Phil screamed, wheezing a bit from how hard he was laughing. “SHIHIHIT-Hic-Ehehehehaha!”

Wilbur giggled, slowing his tickling down to a stop, rubbing away the ghost tickles, giving him time to breathe. "You did great Phil!"

“Thahanks mate…” Phil chuckled, as Wilbur removed the blindfold and rope.

Phil looked down, seeing the messed up feathers on his wings, before looking back at Wilbur.

“Hey uh…do you mind uh preening the extra feathers off?” Phil chuckled a bit awkwardly.

"You've got it buddy!" Wilbur smiled.

Wilbur grabbed the brush, carefully running it over the extra feathers of his wings, smiling at Phil’s muffled giggles that escaped, his ears flapping.

“Tihihihickly!” Phil chuckled, a sharp peep escaping his mouth, followed by trills. “Hehehe!”

Wilbur stopped, getting up and walking towards the kitchen sink, grabbing a cup of water. Going back to Phil who flapped his wings with a yawn.

“Here, you did amazing Phil.” Wilbur smiled, handing over the cup to his father.

“Thanks…” Phil mumbled, drinking. “Thank you…for all of that…I enjoyed that…”

“Oh of course!” Wilbur spoke, holding a hand out to Phil, which he took, pulling him up, poking around his ears a bit. “I’m so glad you liked it!”

“One last thing…” Phil said, Wilbur looking back.

And Phil immediately hugged him, he needed that, wrapping his arms around his son, his boy, his revived boy.

Wilbur gladly accepted the hug, wrapping his arms around Phil.

Philza needed that, Wilbur and him both did.

“Well that was adorable.” 

Phil and Wilbur turned there heads at the sound of a familiar sounding voice, Tommy stared at the two men, shutting the door behind him.

“H-how long?-“ Phil stuttered, a bit embarrassed.

“The whole time.” Tommy interrupted with a smile. “Didn’t want to disturb.” 

Phil took a few steps back, knowing a good reason for him being here.

“Oh, don’t you think your getting out of this.” Tommy smirked. 

“Getting out of what?” Wilbur asked with a smile, adjusting his glasses.

“Oh nothing!” Tommy smiled. “Just revenge for Phil getting me yesterday.” 

Phil blinked, shit. Before Wilbur came back he completely forgot he tickled Tommy, for after Tommy’s revival, Tommy tickled him, he swore to Phil he would get him back, never did until now.

“T-Tommy wait-“ Phil stepped back wearily.

“This is revenge old man!” Tommy yelped, tackling Phil down, Wilbur chuckled at his fathers struggles to get away. 

Wilbur sat down, holding Philza’s arms above his head with one hand, holding his wrists together.

“Wilbur, Tommy don’t-”

“THIS IS REVENGE OLD MAN!” Tommy smirked, spidering up his sides.  

“Wait! Tommy-Eep! Hehehe! Hahaha!!!” 

Philza didn’t laugh as much, not since Wilbur was killed by him. A sting of grief in the fathers heart, made him not able to laugh, when Tommy died, he felt the same thing, forcing himself to not laugh. 

But now, both boys were here, revived, now tickling him and he was giggling like crazy.

“Bohohoys! Quhuhuit it!” Phil giggled, as Wilbur skittered a finger across his right ear, making it flap from the ticklish touch. 

“Nah! I think we’re good!” Wilbur cooed. “Tickle Tickle Phil!” 

Phil squeaked, a flustered blush on his face, as he laughed from the gentle tickling, he hasn’t laughed with his boys in a few months, maybe longer than that.

To Phil, it felt like a bunch of spiders crawling around all over his tickle spots, funny enough that’s what Wilbur and Tommy were doing. 

“Coochie Coochie Coo! Little spider is gonna getcha!” Tommy cooed, shaping his hands into a spider clawed liked shape, trailing across Phil’s sides.

“Awww! Dads all giggly! And the spider is gonna nowww-tickletickletickletickle~” Wilbur cooed, inhaling and blowing a raspberry into Phil’s neck, nibbling the skin with his teeth. 

Phil collapsed like a sack of bricks, leaning back into Wilbur’s chest, as squeals of a river of giggles escaped his mouth, his wings flapping as he laughed. 

“HAHAHAHA! BOHOHOYS I CAHAHANT-EEP!” Phil suddenly chirped, letting out a strangled squawk. 

Tommy and Wilbur cooed, Wilbur lightly tracing Phil’s ribs, Tommy tracing his neck, smiling at the fact Phil practically melted.

Philza chirped and laughed, as his boys cooed and teased him, going faster on the sensitive areas. 

Phil loved every second of their two hour tickle session, and wouldn’t change it for the world.

For his revived boys were home once more.

“Father I’m coming home.”

[thecat-inthehat]

6. Ring

... I don't have a defense for this. Enjoy.

Uh. body worship? I think? some pronoun fuckery. is this noncon? I'm not sure. Is it a threesome if there's only two consciousnesses?

[1504 words]

--

“Whence rises one’s true strength?” The prince asked, voice hush against the cold creak of metal that surrounded them, sibilant and curling underneath the senses. “The flesh?” 

The man in black said nothing, but a glare that could strip paint from canvas was leveled at the Prince from underneath a black curl of hair. Their breath fogged in front of their face in the chill of the room, lit only by flickering candle and strange pulsating light from the tower. The body trembled, once, twice, then became resolutely still as the Warrior of Light asserted their control over borrowed flesh. 

Zenos’ eyes narrowed into a smile that did not touch his lips. Infinite care had him step round the chair that held the body of Nivelth Ajuyn, slumped over as a puppet with cut strings, and breathing deeply as if in a long sleep. His hands settled on the shoulders, and began to push the thick coat down, as inexorable as the rain, to reveal tattooed flesh and the curl of inked wings along the curve of arm. 

“Or perhaps the soul?” Zenos asked, and one long finger pushed against the knobby spine of the body, making it sigh and fall forward in a boneless heap. On its back lay a great sigil of a dragon, bound with summoning rings and aetheric ink. He splayed his fingers wide and laid them on the line of the outermost circle with care, the size of his hand enough to stretch across the body’s entire back. 

The dragon tattoo unfurled under his fingers, and moved. He smiled at it, as one might look upon a fond war dog. 

“You have bound part of my soul to your flesh, my friend?” he asked, his voice a curious drawl that belied his excitement that had his fingers twitching along the curve of the body’s spine. 

“You know as well as I that Shinryu is not part of your soul,” the man said, a pleasant tenor lowered to a whipcrack that sounded nothing like the voice that came from the body of Nivelth Ajuyn. “You merely took it for your own, bathed in its aether and forced your will on its body.” 

“And yet the wyrm responds to me.” Zenos remarked softly, and curled his fingers to the next ring on the body’s flesh. The tattooed dragon flapped its wings, giving the illusion of flying amidst a sea of stars on the body’s freckled back. “You have me under your skin.” 

None of the characteristic hesitation lay in the man’s steps as they stalked forward. They used the man’s body as if it were their own, born and trained into it, lacking any and all signs of this being their first taking of a new body. A purse of the man’s lips, and a baring of teeth that did not sit well on a hyur’s face -- it looked too much like a smile, rather than the threat of fang that it would be on their miqo’te flesh. 

Dark brown eyes met royal blue, and Zenos savored the unique feeling of watching his friend’s expressions bloom over an unfamiliar face. The hyuran body was not unique in any way, a rank and file soldier that was pulled from the piles that lay inside Fandaniel’s laboratory. The man’s breath rattled ever so slightly in his lungs as they drew in air to speak. 

“Like an infection,” they agreed, with a furious humor that lit the eyes up from within. 

Zenos’ palm pressed down on the back of Nivelth Ajuyn, and he could feel the egi writhing underneath her skin, straining to be reunited with him. The texture was odd, and he slid his hand this way and that to catalogue each bump and scar of ink and flame. 

“Remove your hand.” The Warrior of Light said. 

“You dislike me touching the body that you no longer inhabit?” Zenos asked curiously, even as his fingers trailed down one shoulder to the arcanima tattoos that now lay in sequence. Ruin IV, Ruin III, Bio III, Miasma III… He had made a point to study them, until he could recognize them by touch alone. His eyes never left the hyur’s. 

“If you are going to touch it, it will be with me in it,” and the imitation of a hiss was truly admirable, despite the lack of a proper set of teeth to do it with. “The body is mine, not some toy to play with. You will either place me back in it and continue your … study… or you will give your full attention to myself in this flesh.” 

A rich chuckle rumbled from his chest, and he set his hand on the ring surrounding the egi once more. He could feel the heart beating steadily underneath his fingers, bereft of emotion that lay thick on the Warrior of Light’s borrowed face. 

“You say you wished to see me again,” they said, voice naught more than a low murmur. It was not the same cadence as his friend’s voice, no, but he could grow to like it. That ferocity that he yearned for still shone through. “Yet here you are, playing with flesh that isn’t your own like a boy does with dolls. What do you hope to achieve?” 

“Why does it bother you so…? You treat the body with disdain and push it beyond its limits, strip away fat and sinew in heady pursuit of your goals,” Zenos observed, and traced one index finger down the line of Nivelth Ajuyn’s spine, counting each prominent knob as he went. The breastband was in the way of such a thing, so he removed it with a touch of aether, letting it flutter to the body’s lap. “You hardly seem to appreciate it the way I do.” 

The Warrior of Light went still in the hyur’s body, the way only those borrowing a corpse could manage. Dark brown eyes flicked from his face, to the body that he touched, then back up to his smile. 

The punch that landed on his jaw made his head roll, and it was with delight that he heard his friend breathing hard. The insult had landed better than intended, and he was fascinated by the breadth of control that they had over the corpse they now inhabited. 

“Did it hurt?” He asked pleasantly, and took the hyur’s fist in his own, twisting the wrist until the palm was facing up. The ring finger was broken at an odd angle, and it flexed strangely as they twisted the fingers against his hold. 

“... No,” they said after a moment, wary surprise coloring the man’s voice. 

“Borrowed flesh leaves something to be desired, does it not?” He asked, his tone dropping low until it was only for the two of them. Perhaps three, if one counted the body that lay unmoving between them. 

“The simple pleasure of one’s own flesh. Truly, there is no place like home,” the Warrior quoted, with a wry little smirk. 

An answering smile bloomed over his face, and he brought the hyur’s hand down to the body’s neck. He made the Warrior pull up their own body, and watched as predatory anticipation grew over the soldier’s face. Nivelth Ajuyn’s head lolled to the side once she was sat upright, limp as a doll, and did not move as the Warrior dragged a curious set of fingers across her cheek. Breath puffed from her lungs and ghosted over their fingers, yet there was little warmth to be found. The skin was rippled with gooseflesh from the cold, and the Warrior’s eyes traveled down the bare expanse of skin that lay before them. 

“... What do you want, Zenos?” The Warrior asked, even as they rested the man’s fingers against the line of her own sternum. 

Zenos’ hand slid up the body’s back to give the wyrm one more caress, and over the soft curve of her shoulder to wrap around her throat. He could feel the pulse, the breath, how neither fluttered with fear as he squeezed. The body gasped for air, such a gentle request, but did not fight him as he denied it. The Warrior’s eyes lit with fire, but made no move to stop him, watching in naked fascination as he choked the life out of their uninhabited body. The heart thudded unevenly, straining to give air to denied lungs, and he could see how they could feel it under the man’s fingertips. 

He let go, and the body drew in air with a ragged inhale, coughing and sputtering. It wheezed, coughed once more, then simply lay there, unaware of how close to a physical death it had come. The Warrior was breathing hard through their nose, and something in those borrowed brown eyes had gone dark. 

“I wish to make you appreciate what you have,” he purred. He took the Warrior’s borrowed hand and fit it snugly around Nivelth Ajuyn’s throat. The pulse fluttered under their fingers and he watched them swallow thickly. 

“Now squeeze.” 

[poguegirl]

hey, don’t close your eyes

DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE NOT SEEN SEASON 2

desc. when you are celebrating the pogues reuniting, rafe crashes the party with his gun

warnings. blood, angst, swearing

“WHOOO!”

JJ yelled as you shotgunned a beer inside the hot tub, having one hand up in the air from JJ holding it up in congratulations.

You threw the can away and yelled with your tongue out, everyone laughing amongst you. JJ hauled you up by your waist and held you there as you gripped onto his shoulders for more support. They all whooped and cheered.

The pogues were back baby.

In the next minute you were smoking a blunt Kie passed to you. Taking a hit as Pope rapped about school, “They say I come in the party and cause commotion, I’m smooth yeah, call me lotion.”

Everyone bursted into laughing fits as you clutched onto JJ’s arm and fell forwards giggling your ass off. He laughed alongside you and held you beside him as he bent his head down and kissed your shoulder blade. Him seeing you giddy and happy was always a gift to JJ.

You two had been dating for months now and they were the greatest months you could ask for. Even if you broke John B’s rule.

Time passed by before JJ and Pope were throwing punches at their shoulders sarcastically, each time they did you let out a small laugh.

“Go Pope!!” Kie cheered from beside you.

“Yeah JJ!” You grinned and held your arms up clapping.

JJ looked over to you and smiled with a wink, looking down and biting is lip before continuing his shenanigans. In seconds they were on the ground and wrestling. You whooped and hollered for JJ to win, but he lost to Pope.

“New technique!” John B laughed.

Pope nodded his head and grinned, standing he held his hand out for JJ to stand and waved goodbye as he headed off the beach. Shortly after, Kie stood and left to go and find him.

“Really?” Says Sarah as she subconsciously braids your hair.

“Oh yeah.”

“Way to be discreet!” Shouted JJ as they disappeared.

“I leave and this happens?” Asks John B as he looks between you and JJ accusingly. You smile and laugh as you look to JJ shrugging your shoulders and looking away jokingly.

“Are you blaming me?” JJ held his heart sarcastically.

“A little bit… oh, it’s beer time.” With that John B stood and left to get himself a drink.

Sarah and JJ continued to jokingly argue about pogue and pogue macking, disregarding you and JJ’s relationship. Soon after JJ stood and spoke with John B.

You looked down to your hands as Sarah hummed to herself before speaking, “Did you know me and John B got married?” You paused and turned to look up and her as she bit down her lip and grinned. “No fucking way.” Sarah nodded, “I mean not legally but…. yknow.” You smiled and sat back down, “That’s awesome Sarah, seriously.”

She laughed and said a thank you. The two deserved to be happy, they had both gone through so much together.

JJ and John B walk over again, the both of them wiping her eyes as if they had an emotional moment. You looked away and were about to make conversation before John B butt in, “Did you hear that?”

“What? Your chicken?” JJ thought out loud.

“I heard a car door.” He noted

JJ starts to cluck like a chicken and flap his arms as John B reaches over to cover his mouth with his hand to shut him up.

You sit up and look to the sound squeezing your eyes to look clearer, instantly you heard talking and stood. Shushing everyone you pointed to the tree as John B helped Sarah up. You started to climb right after her, JJ under you for support as you gained your footing.

“Go go go go” You ushered under your breath as you urged the boys to hurry, taking a seat on a branch quietly as you held onto the trunk. Shortly JJ emerged and took a seat on the branch in front of you.

Seconds later Rafe and Barry came, whispering words to each other as they crouched and held guns in their hands completely unaware that they were in the tree.

Your eyes welled up and you placed a hand over your mouth to stifle any sounds that crept up.

Barry stood and kicked the door open, holding his pistol up at gun point as he scanned the area for us. It was clear their objective was to kill us. Rafe stood by the bonfire, looking around. “Where the hell are you.” He yelled out.

Rafe paced around the fire mindlessly, picking his hands up and putting them on his neck.

JJ reached back and grabbed your knee, rubbing it to soothe your nerves in any way. Your gripped his hand tightly as your body shook.

Glass breaking made you jump as Barry stormed out of the house. “Anything?” Rafe asked, “No, there ain’t shit in there bro.” Barry answered angrily, “No? Nothing?” He yelled questionably, “No, nothing, Rafe.”

“They we’re obviously just here because of the smoke.” Noted Rafe. “Yeah, yeah, yeah great observation boy scout.” Barry taunted, “Well they’re not far yknow? They gotta be around here somewhere.”

It got quiet for a bit, tightening your hold on JJ’s hand before Rafe spoke again, “‘P4L’” He snorted and shook his head looking down, “Well shit.” He added “So your sister’s a pogue for life, huh, Rafe? Now who would’ve thought?” Barry taunted Rafe as he walked closer.

Rafe nodded his head rapidly as he squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again, “Shit!” Rafe yelled, “All right chill—“ Barry spoke.

You hear a gun shift off the safety and multiple gun shots ring through your ears as you feel a new hard pressure in your stomach. You could feel your heart beating in your ears, your breaths were uneven and short as time slowed.

“Chill! Chill chill chill your ass out, you’re gonna get us busted, dawg!” Barry’s shouts were hard to hear as all you could hear was your heart beating madly in your ears as time around you slowed.

“Let’s go Let’s go Let’s go…” Their voices faded as you blinked, looking down at your stomach. Your hand was clutching your body instinctively, slowly you forced your hand away and saw blood begin to bleed into your clothes.

You sucked in a deep breath as you swayed in your seat on the branch. “Y/n…… Y/n…… Hey! Hey, are you listening?” JJ’s voice would cut in as you looked up and found his eyes, instantly he caught on to your pale skin and ghostly eyes.

“Woah woah, hey, Y/n!” He grabbed your arm to stop you from falling backwards, “Let’s get down, cmon.” He eased you down as you never took your hand off from your stomach. He hopped down beside you and looked down to you.

“JJ..” Your voice croaked as your hand gripped as his shirt, your bloodied hands dirtying his clothes. “It hurts…” You muttered as you removed your hand from your side, the blood was much worse. It had expanded all around your shirt and blood was gushing from the it. Slowly you fall forwards as you felt your legs give out from under you.

JJ caught you and started to freak out himself, laying you on the ground as he shouted your name. John B and Sarah running over as they realized what was going on, quickly John B applied pressure to the wound as JJ gripped your face. “Stay with me!!” Yelled JJ as he began to cry. “Call an ambulance!” John B screamed to Sarah.

You’re sight was dizzy and beginning to darken. You found yourself looking at JJ, reaching your bloodied hand towards his face as you shakily wiped his tears as he continued to shout at you to stay awake.

“Please…. Fuck! Y/n stay with me!” He cried and gripped your cheeks tighter.

“I cant live anymore…. without you I have nothing!” JJ confessed through his never ending tears as John B remained silent, his own tears slipping from his eyes.

You managed a small smile and let tears fall down your cheeks. “I love you..” You coughed out blood as some remained on your lips, “P4L.” Whispering those words as your strength in your arm gave out and the hand on his cheek started to slip before he grabbed it and held it tightly, bringing it back to his cheek.

“No.. Y/n, look at me. Hey, don’t close your eyes, please.” He said quickly as your eyelids began to close. He shook your head in an attempt but they remained closed.

“…No… Fuck!” He sobbed out as he laid his head on your chest, his tears leaving stains.

The world around you stopped, your hearing stopped, your senses stopped, all there was left was nothing.

[brandyllyn]

Make dreams truths

Dark Ezra (Prospect) x f!reader

Summary: Ezra had been a killer. Was known to be a rogue. Occasionally even a degenerate... Words: 4300. [Read it on AO3]

My Masterlist

Rating: Explicit Warnings: somnophilia. dubcon / noncon. smut. hella smut. oral (f&m). PiV. fingering. cumplay. knife. dead dove: do not eat.

A/N: I think this is actually not entirely out of character for what we know of pre-movie Ezra but it’s definitely not a good side of him. Heed the warnings.

The tent was quiet but Ezra was wide awake, hands stacked behind his head while he stared at the canvas roof. A scant few inches away you slept, the soft sounds of your breathing filling the tent and air around him. Close enough that he could reach out and touch you.

It hadn’t been intentional, this sharing of living quarters. When this rotation had started you had your own tent, as did the remainder of the team, each in their own little abodes of solitude ringing a common area. But a storm had put an end to that, taking with it a third of the structures. And so here you were, in a pile of blankets tucked between his cot and the tent wall.

There had been other options, of course. Other men who had jumped at the chance, hungry eyes roving over you when their offers had been made. Ezra’s hands clenched into fists and he took a deep calming breath as he remembered. Of six men, four had been able to offer you a place to lay your pillow - and he’d been pleasantly surprised when you took his. He hadn’t missed the assessing looks from the others each night when he held the tent flap back for you, the way their greed and jealousy tainted the toxic air of the planet even further.

You were a dove among snakes, and well you knew it. Your delicate fingers useful in the harvesting well beyond even his own clumsy attempts. The mining itself required muscle, heft and weight and work to find the dig sites. But the extraction, the small movements and fragile tenderness to obtain the gems…

That called for a woman’s tender touch.

You were safe - as safe as anyone could be on the Green. Safe with these men who circled you like writhing asps, waiting for you to fall into their embrace. Their greed outweighed their lust for the moment, and every sure touch of your hands on a gem was another thousand credits for each of them. But it didn’t follow that just because you were useful that it didn’t mean they didn’t want you, or that they might not turn their fangs on you given half the chance….

You had not, as yet, given them the chance. But with your tent gone you had needed to venture into a snake’s den. To curl up with a serpent of your choosing.

And you had chosen him.

He had thought, nay hoped, that you might join him in his bunk that first night. He thought he had been clear that you were welcome, turning back the corner of the scratchy blankets and letting it sit invitingly while he used a bathing wipe to remove the day’s grime. But when he’d turned around you were on the floor, tucking your legs beneath your own blanket and thanking him again for his hospitality.

The bunk was small, admittedly, and your pallet did look quite spacious - if not actually more comfortable. But as the spins drug on you had not invited him to your bed either.

You made a soft sound, the blankets rustling when you reseated yourself. Sleep had never come easy to him and tonight was no different. His mind raced to and fro, picking up scattered thoughts and discarding them just as easily. It had always been like that for him, focus attained through necessity rather than desire.

Desire, that was not a word for lonely nights like this. Not with your soft body within his reach. He knew it better than anyone on this blasted moon. Knew the curves and lines, the dips and valleys. No one but him got to see you outside of your suit, see the sweep of your back or the length of your leg when you scrubbed yourself off in the evening. Even the light hairs dusting your arms had been a revelation, soft beneath his fingers one night when he had laid his bare hand on you to gain your attention.

Skin, even the frailest touch, was a rarity on the Green. And so much of it was within his reach.

If he held his hand out, a little to the side, he’d be able to feel the heat rising from your body. You were practically in bed with him, just a foot lower than his own perch. It was easy to close his mind and imagine, to drown himself in what it would be like to have you truly with him. Your skin and his…

You hid your assets from the others, a cap covering your hair during meals, careful application of some dark makeup to make you look haggard and wane. Not that it mattered that much, a woman’s body was all that was required to strike a man’s lust in the reaches. But Ezra knew what you looked like without it. Knew the arch of your cheek and the fullness of your lips. Knew exactly how attractive you would be even compared with the finest women in the galaxy.

All of that beauty, a fingertip away.

He could feel himself getting hard and sighed, reaching down and roughly palming his cock. Was it worth it? He had nothing nearby to gather his emissions and the thought of trying to sleep in sticky wet briefs was as unappealing as the idea of getting up to fetch something.

You moved again and his mind wandered. He could come in you. That would solve his dilemma. In your mouth or cunt… or hell, this was his own dark reverie, he could come in that pretty ass of yours. On your knees, your back tilted just right while he fucked himself inside you. Would you let him? The you that lived in the recesses of his mind would. She let him do any number of degenerate things to her body, things he had only before paid people do. But you, the you the flounced nude through his imaginings, begged him for those same actions.

He groaned, annoyed with himself. He was hard now, his aching cock a reminder of the lasciviousness of his thoughts. He resigned himself to the rough scratch of the blanket as a vessel when he heard a sound from you. Something he’d never heard before.

A moan.

It was soft, deep. Curling through the tent and settling into the space behind his jaw. He froze, fingers just barely edging under the band of his briefs, his own heartbeat nearly drowning out his thoughts. Waited to see if you might do it again - provide an aural accompaniment to his depraved actions of the evening.

The next noise was a needy whimper.

He captured it, reeling it onto the spool of his fantasies and allowing it to settle in its own alcove of his mind. It was the noise you would make while he flicked at your clit. The sound of you while he sucked on your pert nipples. The shattered note that would break from you just before you begged him to fuck you.

His fingers were wrapped around his cock now, squeezing slightly and tugging himself in short strokes. He remained silent, ears straining. While his actions might be a distant second to his desires, it was more than he was expecting when he turned the lights off this evening.

"Ezra…"

Pleasure shot through him and he squeezed the base of his cock hard, stopping himself from coming right then. He hadn’t imagined it. He hadn’t. Even his own addled consciousness couldn’t have imagined that breathy plea. Whatever somnolent world you found yourself in, he was the star. Just as you were the luminary of his own. He turned to his side, careful to be quiet, careful not to break you free from the shackles of sleep that held you.

You were right there. One arm thrown over your head, blankets pushed to your waist, the other hand resting on your stomach. He watched you in the dim filtered light, watched the slight movement as your thighs rubbed together and you moaned again.

The little dove was dreaming of him - and a fine dream it seemed to be.

He turned all the way to his stomach, pulling one arm beneath him and resting his chin on his fist, the other reaching down to hover over your body. Did he dare? Did he dare defile you with his touch? You took the decision away, you back arching on the next breathy gasp and his fingers brushed over your hardened nipples.

Your groans wove together, a symphony of need and desire. His hand followed you down, circling through your tank top, flicking gently back and forth and then softly rolling the puckered flesh between his fingers. He should wake you, break you from your dream and offer you the reality of his body.

But he didn’t.

Laying next to you, above you, he watched his fingers trace upwards until they meet soft bare flesh. Running the tips of them under the edge of your top. Your lips parted, face turning towards him, and he wondered if you were really awake. Offering yourself to his hands and his touch. He trailed his fingers up, over the tendons of your throat, caressing your jaw, and finally stopping to rest them on the plush curve of your lips. He tugged and your mouth opened slightly, enough for him to slip his forefinger inside, feel the hot, wet warmth of you encase him. Venturing further, he touched your tongue and his vision went blurry when your lips closed around the digit and you sucked briefly on it.

His own breathing sounded harsh to his ears, unbearably loud in the near silence of the tent. His finger fell from your mouth and he cupped your chin lightly, tilting your face towards his and whispering your name - searching for any sign of wakefulness. But you continued to sleep, not so much as a flutter of your eyelashes in response.

He removed his touch from you gently, carefully. Now that he had committed to his course of action he was loath to see it come to an untimely end. He shifted in his bunk, sliding downwards slightly, adjusting himself so he could roll his cock into the hard bar at the edge. It wasn’t optimal, it wasn’t you, but it would do for the moment.

Your chosen serpent, uncoiling. Watching. Hunting.

Ezra studied your body with an almost dispassionate gaze. To an outside observer he could be considering an aurelac dig, or a piece of machinery. But his eyes were bright, his breath coming in unsteady shudders. You were a puzzle at the moment, one he needed to twist and pry at to find his way towards completion.

He wanted to see your breasts, but tugging at your top was likely to wake you. Your blankets were draped over your waist - easy to move - but the influx of cool air might stir you from your slumber. The other things he wanted… well those would definitely rouse you.

In the end, you made his decision for him, turning away with a soft mumble. Your back to him and kicking your feet out. Now the soft swell of your ass was exposed to the cool night air, the plain white cotton of your underwear visible to where it disappeared between your thighs. His lips parted as he reached out, cupping you gently in his palm, feeling the warmth even through the cloth covering you.

It was easy from there to let his fingers dip further, to burrow into the cleft and drag downwards until he was nudging at the soft flesh of your thighs. He stroked softly, repeatedly, small little pets over your cunt - resisting the urge to twist the fabric away and plunge his fingers inside of you. You would be wet, he could already feel the slight dampness soaking through your underwear. Whatever you were dreaming about - and Kevva he hoped it was still him - it was making your body weep with want.

He caressed your thigh, urging you to move, to change positions again, and he held his breath when you did so. Rolling towards him and fully on to your back with one leg bent, knee resting in line with your hip, blankets abandoned. Fuck he couldn’t stop himself, slipping from the bunk and carefully placing one knee between your spread legs, the other on the outside of your thigh. He felt guilt, for a moment, when he pulled his pocket knife from the belt hanging off the edge of the bed. When he carefully slipped it beneath the fabric of your underwear and sliced through it with minimal effort. He knew for a fact you had limited pairs with you.

But now he could touch you directly, feel your slick on the tips of his fingers as he played with your cunt and any regrets he might have had quickly vanished. He leaned forward onto his free hand, settling it next to your head, careful to keep his body from touching yours. You writhed in your sleep, a breathy moan falling from your lips, and then what he wanted to hear.

"Ezra…"

He couldn’t have kept himself from you for all the stars in the sky. Gently, smoothly, he slid his middle finger inside of you. Felt your heat and slick surround him. Felt your body squeeze him and pull him in deeper. Fuck you felt good, so tight on the relatively small girth of his finger. He could already imagine how you would feel on his cock. How you would have to stretch to accommodate him.

His jaw worked while he watched you, watched your brow furrow and your lips part as he worked you open. Carefully, oh so carefully, he lowered his mouth until it hovered just over yours. Held his breath and tasted the pants of air that fell from you. His body strained with the effort, every muscle urging him to press down, press you down into the blankets, let his body cover yours.

But he restrained. He wasn’t ready for you to be awake yet. There was still a chance you might tell him no.

Instead he regretfully pulled his fingers from your warmth, smiling to himself when your hips rolled upwards to chase them. The disappointed mumble that fell from your lips. "Shh," he whispered to himself, shifting his weight down your body, "soon little dove. Just let me…"

It was difficult, you were not settled in a way to make room for his body and he didn’t want to risk transposing you into something more convenient. Instead he laid his body next to yours, propping one hand between your spread legs and arching himself over your thighs.

You tasted sweet.

Maybe it had been too long since he had the taste of another on his tongue. Maybe it was the clandestine nature of the evening. Maybe it was just actually you… whatever it was he drew his tongue through your folds and couldn’t help the low moan that vibrated from him.

His eyes never left you as he licked at your center, staring over the rise of your stomach, your breasts, watching your face. This wasn’t about pleasure, not really. If he was going to bring you to pleasure this way it would wake you for sure. No, this was about learning your body. About having the taste and feel and smell of you filling his senses.

This was about seeing how delicately he could balance you on a razor’s edge before he was inevitably wounded by the task.

He learned every dip, every crevasse. Pressed the tip of his tongue to your aching hole and felt your hips arch beneath him. Swirled it around your clit for a moment and heard your soft whimper. Rubbed his lips along yours in the most secret of kisses, conscious of how the stubble dotting his jaw rasped against your skin.

It wasn’t enough.

It had been several minutes since you last called out his name. Several minutes of your breathy whimpers but not the dulcet tenor of your tongue wrapping around the syllables that hung his identity on him like a chain.

He ached for it.

Slowly, he drug himself away from your heat. With one hand he reached over his shoulder, fisting the fabric and pulling, tossing his shirt to the side once he was free of it. His pants followed quickly and he knelt next to you, hand seeking the knife he had tossed to the side earlier. With two fingers he carefully lifted the hem of your shirt, sliding the sharp blade beneath and watching the fabric part over its deadly sheen.

Oh Kevva, you were gorgeous. Bare below him, the tatters of your clothing perfectly framing your body. He hesitated with the blade near your shoulders, turning it slightly and lightly touching it to your neck. To the vein he knew pulsed life through you. So vulnerable beneath him. So trusting to sleep so soundly.

He could do anything to you.

With a grimace he closed the knife. He was not a good man, but he was not that one either.

Carefully he positioned himself over your body, his knees resting on each side of your stomach. He reached down with one hand, pressing his cock until the head just touched the skin of your chest. A slight shift and even in the low light he could see the trail of his own cum glisten on your skin, trailing from his cock, easing and preparing your body for when he moved back up. He was hypnotized, unable to tear his eyes away from the way his hardness contrasted to your softness. His cock almost grotesque against your tender delicacy.

Another shift in position and he could rest some of his weight on one hand, the other continuing to hold just the tip of himself to you. Painting your ribs with his precum. Drawing designs into the swell of your breasts. Nudging against your nipple and retreating until a thin line was stretched between the two points.

It was entrancing.

A slight shift further and he was leaning over you, pressing his cock to your lower lip, sighing to himself when your mouth opened ever so slightly and he could push forward until he met the hard edge of your teeth.

"Open for me, little dove," he groaned, pressing his thumb to your jaw. "I seek only paradise."

Your chin followed the pressure of his fingers and he slipped inside. The soft flesh of your tongue met his cock, the give of the muscle cradling him. The sight was almost too much for him. That beautiful, warm, perfect fucking mouth wrapped around his cock. His shaft twitched, his balls drawing up slightly. Only his quick reflexes kept him from coming on the spot, one hand reaching down to squeeze the base of his cock painfully as he pulled himself away from you.

You licked your lips and he squeezed harder, closing his eyes to block out the sight of you spread beneath him. Cautiously, with just one finger, he traced along the soft bow of your lips, wetting the digit before trailing it down the column of your throat.

Your heartbeat was fast, erratic.

He grinned, shifting his weight downwards, gently urging your thighs further apart with one hand while he held his body away from yours with the other. He settled there, his cock just barely nudging at your cunt, his mouth lowering to hiss into your ear.

"How long have you been awake, dove?"

Your hands lifted and clenched on his back, pulling him down to you and he allowed you your wish, sliding his cock inside you in the same movement. You gasped and your nails dug into his skin, urging him further. Ezra felt his lips pull back, his teeth sinking into your neck.

The dove was well and truly caught now.

He didn’t hold himself back, fucking up into your wet warmth hard, feeling himself touch the very heart of you. Your gasp into his ear was music and he repeated the motion just to hear the notes turn into a melody of whimpers and cries.

"You didn’t answer my question," he sucked your earlobe into his mouth while he murmured his words. Worrying the soft flesh between his teeth. "How long have you been enjoying my ministrations? Allowing me to debauch you?" He bit down hard on the word and you rewarded him with a sigh of his name.

"Your… your mouth," you manage to gasp out and he groaned, pressing his face to your neck. You had let him hold a knife to you. Use your body as a canvas for his weeping cock. Opened your mouth and allowed him to…

He jerked his body away and gripped your hips tight, unwrapping your legs from his waist and lifting you. Shoving you. Throwing you across the edge of his cot and pressing a hand to your spine to bend you over.

"What a pretty sight you are." His hand trailed down, pulling at the remains of your shirt and tossing it to the side. Your knees slid apart without his prompting and he stroked your thigh while he muttered his praise into your skin. "Good girl."

There was no mistaking the low moan at his words and he filed the information away for later. Nor could he fail to notice the clench of your muscles when he slid inside you again. He let his head fall back, closing his eyes and digging small indentations on your hips with the touch of his fingers.

"Laying here beside me, moaning my name, letting me touch you…" The sound of his hips snapping into yours was filling the tent. The wet suck of your cunt around his cock. He jerked on your shoulder, pulling you upright and wrapping both of his arms around you. Enclosing you in the coils of his body. His hand was wide enough to fully enclose your throat. Your own rose to grip it, wrapping your fingers around his forearm and pulling.

He tutted in your ear, gripping you harder. "This is exactly what you wanted and you are going to take it."

He could look down your body from this position, see your breasts bouncing as he fucked his cock into you, one of his hands pulling sharply on your nipple. The pretty spread of your thighs, even his own flesh when he pulled himself out of you just before ramming home again.  He let out a soft hum and pressed his cheek to yours. "Are you sure you don’t want to put those fingers to better use?"

One hand stayed on his arm but the other… he watched as the other dropped between your thighs. Fingers dipping downwards and then settling over your clit in sharp, jerky motions. You clenched down on him and he rewarded you with an open-mouth kiss on your cheek.

"Tell me pretty dove, what manner of serpent makes you sing?"

You made a strangled sound and he released you just slightly, allowing you to pull in a gasp of air. At the same time he delved his other hand between your parted thighs, knocking your hand out of the way. Circling where his cock is still pumping inside of you before rising higher. He captured your clit between two fingers, rubbing back and forth in time with the thrust of his hips.

"Ezra," the sound of his name is wrenched from you. A benediction, an offering, a prayer tossed carelessly into the darkness. He was no god, but he could certainly see the appeal of veneration. Of your veneration.

"You are exquisite," he groaned, feeling his balls draw up. "Can you fly for me? Toss yourself into the pit with me, my soiled dove?" He pinched your clit between his fingers and rolled it in quick circles and you convulsed. You would have screamed but his hand on your throat cut the noise off, his eyelids fluttering closed as he enjoyed the feeling of taking you apart with his cock and his fingers.

"Come here," he pulled at your shoulder, leaning back on his heels, "show me how you worship."

Your body was still shaking from your own pleasure but you took him into your mouth without hesitation. His cock sliding over your lips and tongue. His hands helped you when you faltered, digging into your neck and pulling you down until he slid all the way into your throat.

"Oh dearest dove I-"

Your muscles spasmed around his cock and he came. White flashing at the corner of his vision and his fingers clenching tight to your skin, cutting off your airways while he spilled into your mouth.

Le petit mort, they called it.

The little death.

Ezra had traded in death more than once in his ventures. Had seen the light go out of another’s eyes at his hand. He did not enjoy it, but would indulge when necessity dictated his actions. But this…

Holding your life in his hands while he was reborn.

This he enjoyed. This he had every intention of indulging himself in whenever the opportunity presented itself. Engorging himself even.

Your eyes met his and he stroked his thumb over the corner of your mouth, loosening his hold on your throat and catching a drop of his cum and pushing it back between your lips. Eyelashes lowering as you didn’t hesitate to take him, sucking on him and holding his gaze.

Yes, you had chosen your serpent. His venom still glistened on your lips.

He would have to see that you did not regret it.

.

.

Ezra Taglist:

@beautyagegoodnesssize , @iwantadecentblogname , @pintsizemama , @codenamewife , @michaelperry , @qwtyy , @thisgirl-knm ,​

@pascals-cat, @hotspacepilots , @rosiefridayrogersunday 

Permanent Taglist:

(y’all just remember you asked to be on this list)

[starshipsofstarlord]

Starry Eyed

Natasha Romanoff x reader / masterlist

summary; during a meeting, natasha receives rather provocative photos of you, and though she is appreciative of the beauty that renders from the images, it was not the time nor the place for them to be sent / warnings; smut, degradation, mummy kink, use of sex toy, swearing, Dom!nat, oral on sex toy, oral sex (fem receiving) bratty!reader.

She, the infamous black widow prowled out of the meeting room, an intent stern in her emerald pools, as the trained assassin herself headed straight towards her quarters, where she knew her malishka would be, presumably occupying their shared bed with splayed and flamboyant legs that were spread so that whomever entered the domain would see everything on first hand display.

That thought only infuriated the redhead more, and so, with little effort, she thrust the bedroom door open, quickly slamming it behind herself, as she was met with the sight of you, phone in hand as you sat cross legged and completely nude upon the crisp black sheets. The woman licked her lips as she prowled closer, snatching the device out from your untrustworthy hands, and flinging it upon the floor, causing a furrow to erupt on your facial features.

“I was just trying to entertain you, Natasha.” That name earned yourself a quirked brow, and you gulped at the silent yet demanding expression that taunted you, forcing you instinctively to feel small and meek beneath it.

“What was that, whore?” The title made you whimper, as you pressed your thighs together as a means to relieve some tension that was brewing between their partition. A shaky breath withered from your mouth, as it made your bare chest rise, and you didn’t miss the way that Nat’s predatory eyes roamed your body.

“I meant mummy.” It came out as nothing short of a whisper, as you felt the woman loom over you, her dominating shadow reaching out to deliver a sharp and vivid slap to your cheek, spurring a stinging to erupt beneath the skin. “Sorry mummy.”

“Now that is how you should be acting little one, not teasing me like a slut. You realise anyone could have seen your little ‘innocent’ photo shoot, right? I mean Steve was sat right beside me, one glance over and he’d have turned back into a stiff and frozen man, that wouldn’t at all mind being stuck in an erect moment of time because he’d have seen that sweet cunt of mine that resides between those easily spreadable thighs of yours.”

“How can I make it up to you mummy?” The question rang heavy as it slipped off your tongue, your eyes pleadingly gazing up at her. If she weren’t mistaken, she’d think there were stars in your eyes, as they orbited around her, as though she were a planet, the central force and habitat for all life. But with that said, and defined, that wasn’t too far off. She was the hand that spun your universe, reeling it around as your eyes always pictured her, in the galactic realm of your mind, in this room, her red hair splayed around her as she succumbed to some kind of pleasure.

The spectrum of pleasure however was a vast array of different areas when the bedroom was involved. She got off on all sorts; degrading you until there were tears streaming out of your eyes and flowing past your water lines, hearing you beg to be touched. Natasha Romanoff was a wild card, and with her, you never knew what to expect. Though, that was part of the thrill of your relationship and the sexual aspect of it, there was excitement, and a suspense that had you always on edge (sometimes literally), for more.

“I don’t think you can blossom, guess you’re just gonna have to sit there, all patient, if that’s even possible, and watch as mummy gets herself off without your help, denying you of any recollection or release. You’ve been very bad, and I think you deserve to go cold turkey, and see that I don’t need you, you’re nothing more than an accessory to my pleasure.” A dark glare sparked upon her face as she ignorantly walked past you, reaching into the bedside drawer to pull out an object.

It served the same purpose as you apparently did, it was an aid to release, not a necessity. The firm black dildo was gripped in her hand as she walked to stand before you, cocking her deviant head to the side as she smirked down at you. She shifted the weight of the toy in her hand, as she held it out in front of you, the tip probing at your pouting bottom lip, the way the skin squashed under the pressure she applied seemingly amusing to her.

“Usually you have trouble keeping that mouth of yours closed, and now what, you don’t want to open it for mummy?” Her strict taunt had you obliging with her indirect command, widening the stance of your lips as she slipped the plastic subject of the empowered and one sided conversation into you mouth, shallowly thrusting the length into your mouth until it gently hit the back of your throat, causing you to gag. Natasha then removed it, surveying the moisture that coated the outside of the toy.

“That’ll do, what do you say malishka for me giving you any kind of attention?” You bowed your head, letting out a surrender of a huff as you gazed up at her with obedient and sparkling eyes that held a restraint within their spheres to contain a bratty eye roll.

“Thank you mummy.” The phrase slithered off your lips as you watched, watched, her strut to opposite the bed, the toy in her palm, your oral suffice trailing carelessly upon her skin. She rolled her desk chair open, seating her fine ass upon the furniture, as she fiddled one handedly with her belt, unknotting it, as she shuffled the material of her tight jeans down her legs, kicking them off from her ankles as her bejewelled irises remained latched upon you.

It would be a crime, a punishable one if you were to avert your eyes, and so you maintained eye contact with her undressing body, squirming as she padded her magical, searing fingertips upon the layer of her underwear, before pulling the flimsy material to the side, exposing her superior cunt. She tugged with her pointer finger upon the lips, showing you the rosy colour of her intimate parts that were hidden beneath the flaps; you licked your lips, wanting nothing more than to touch her.

She was cruel, for leaving you starved from any contact, circling her addictive clit as her feline pupils bore into you, as she moved the average sized toy forwards, running the length of it up and down her slit, before plunging it through her entrance, her walls latching onto the lightly ribbed exterior of the item. Her head fell back, as she pushed her clothed chest out, her hips rutting against the movements that she herself orchestrated.

Through her straining lids however, her eyes remained pursed on you, as though you were the one gaining pleasure from her fulfilling actions. You weren’t; that fact was clear enough as an emotional lurching in your chest tried to convince you to disobey the rules, and crawl to her, performing a better release than any toy could conceive. All you had earned considering the circumstances though, was wetness wandering down your thighs, as your clit pulsed to be touched.

“Mummy.” It was a small, almost inaudible plea, but the Black Widow heard, and she silently nodded her head, giving you an allowance of permission to situate yourself closer, and instantly you scrambled to the floor, floundering off the bed, dragging your palms and the bones of your knees upon the carpet, until you had a close up of the dildo being driven in and out of her pussy. A pout remarked upon your lips, all you wanted was a sweet taste of her nurturing essence, but you refrained from whisking your head forwards and taking what you wanted, no matter how loud that devil on your shoulder spoke. “So pretty.”

“Ya think?” There was smugness in her tone, poisoning it with her own twist as her dewy chin, bent up, a small moan courting out of the column of her throat as her spare hand reached down and fiddled with her priceless pearl, rotating small spirals around it, to bring her closer to her edge. To reply, you eagerly nodded, taking full advantage of your position as you watched her pussy clamp murderously down on the dildo, as deep hums evaded from within her.

You could see how the muscles of her thighs tightened, an extended sound emitting from her as she reached her beautiful peak, gifting herself a couple more thrust of the toy before pulling it out, and revealing how soaked it was. She held it out to you, and instantly, you knew what you had to do, it was practically like deja vu, the only difference was you knew that you had already done this, it wasn’t a familiar feeling prying at the edges of your mind, cursing you with confusion and derelict. No, you had lubed the length up for her to use, and now you were to be the wipe that cleansed it too.

This was the part you were more eager for though; to taste her. “Get on with it.” She roughly carded her talented fingers through your hair, delivering a spiteful tug to your scalp, as she hoisted your face closer to the tool, and intently stared as you opened your mouth, allowing it passage way through the obscene cavern. You gulped any remnants of her cum down, swirling your tongue around the ribbing, delightfully moaning at the feeling of her flavour running down your throat. Just as you were about to take it further down your throat, Natasha pulled you off the plastic with a pop. “That’s not the only thing that needs cleaning up little one.”

The explicit message was perfectly delivered, as your attention quickly grazed away from the dildo to her pussy, that clenched instinctively from your hungry glare. Diving in tongue first was no hassle, this had been what you were waiting for, and finally, finally, you had received the luxury to taste her nectar from the source. Your tongue run up the insides of her parted thighs, cleaning any spillage instantly up, tracing up to her lips, that you sucked into your mouth, replacing her cum with your saliva, not that she at all minded.

“I think you need to be a bit more thorough y/n.” She was serious, she had used your name, and thus, instead of teasing her folds with the tip off your tongue, you smushed your face as close as humanly possible, swiping against her clit many a time, switching to prodding at her entrance, sinking the part of you inside of her, as you grasped the beneath of her killer legs to give yourself more leverage. This was a miracle,it was practically a God’s feast laid out before you, already previously roused from cooking itself under a blithering sun. But now, it was enduring a pink flame, that you roasted her with, humming as your tongue lapped half obsessively at her insides.

“Fuck!” The red head hollered, tangling both hands into your locks, shoving you closer and smearing the most intimate part of herself along your chin. As she continued to pry at your hair, you moaned into her, sending an echo to rivet through her whole skeleton, making the assassin spill her arsenal into your mouth, as you accepted its token, and drank it down, shaking your head lightly as Nat loosened her grip on your head, slumping back into the chair, slightly rolling backwards, though you trailed after, keeping your face buried between her thighs.

She had to pull you off, and whence she did so, she swore there were stars glittering like sequins in your pretty eyes, dancing along the rims of the windows into your soul, like two ghosts, forever mingling their bodies against each other, in order to spend eternity as one. “Did I do a good job mummy?” You knew you had, her skin was pink and peachy, and she released a heavy and withheld sigh, as she traced your jaw, pulling you up for a kiss. As she tasted herself in the corners of your mouth, she smiled lightly, enjoying the taste half as much as you.

“Yes baby, but it doesn’t make up for your little stunt. I’m going to be taking some pictures of your body on my own, and if you ever, and I mean ever, try and distract me from important business again, I swear to you that I will make a whole PowerPoint of them for my team to sit through, and whenever you pass Clint or Tony or anyone else in the halls, you will known that they’ve seen far more than those starry eyes of yours.”

It wasn’t an empty threat, it was a focalised promise. She would definitely expose you if you were to distract her again during any important meeting or debriefings, but a part of you was not entirely opposed to that... She would get jealous if she heard anyone else talk about your body, and her own emotions would be induced by her own vowed actions, and you would receive a brunt of a force to stabilise her frustrations. Now the consequences of the consequences didn’t sound so bad...

[kohakuarisaka]

Untamed (chapter 3 of 5)

Takami Keigo x (fem!)Reader

[ SUMMARY ] Every year, without fail, Hawks went into a rut: when autumn began, and then again in early spring. He would honker down up north in a secluded cabin. For the first time, he brought you with him.

[ WARNINGS ] R18+ for graphic sexual content and language. Non-canon compliant: Hawks’ quirk does not work like this. Reader is a hero that works at Hawks agency. Pre-existing relationship. Reader is a female with female genitalia. Feral behavior. Rutting. Biting. Spanking. Slight BDSM. Consensual sex. Wing kink. Oral sex. Romantic relationship.

Chapter 1 • Chapter 2 • Chapter 3 • Chapter 4 • Chapter 5

[ My BNHA Fanfic Masterlist ] ~ [ Also on my AO3 ]

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"Baby," a voice cooed at you while hands gently shook your shoulders, stirring you from sleep.

"Come on. Get up. The sun's gonna be rising soon," he continued, speaking to you softly.

You groaned like a wounded animal and tried to resist the pull to consciousness, hoping you could slip back away and he would cease this assault.

Of course, that didn't happen, and the murmuring and shaking didn't come to an end. You found yourself turning around and groggily taking in the sight of Hawks. He already looked wide awake, gold eyes beaming, skin glowing, handsome face as immaculate as ever.

It made you want to punch him.

"Get up," he said, more so telling than asking, albeit politely.

He had warned you last night that he intended to wake you early; but, that didn't stop you from groaning tiredly, rolling over, as if in protest, before complying with his request, removing the blanket slowly, afraid to expose yourself to the cold.

He had stoked the fireplace before waking you; that much was clear, seeing as it wasn't blistering cold when you wiggled out of bed. It was chilly, of course, but not enough to leave you trembling helplessly.

You realized that Hawks had already dressed himself, boots thumping quietly on the floor as he stepped around the bed. He had slipped on a grey T-shirt, and didn't seem to be feeling cold at all, judging by the lax way he rolled his shoulders, wings jutting out from his back gracefully.

He gave you a sideways glance, an almost untrusting look written across his face.

"I'm getting up!" you hissed at him.

Hawks wasn't expecting that sudden outburst and flinched a little, eyes widening slightly and feathers shuddering behind him. It was a comical sight, if you were being honest. It wasn't like him to be so high strung.

Before you could assume you had upset him, Hawks blew raspberries and turned away, heading for the stairs.

When he walked away, you most certainly did not admire the way his cargo pants hugged his ass, nor the way his shirt was pulled tight across the plains of his muscular back, nor how his crimson feathers looked so beautiful draped behind him.

Hawks didn't laugh when you met him downstairs; but, he sure looked like he wanted to. Here he was wearing some loose, comfortable clothes like it hadn't snowed all night, while you were dressed up in thick pants and a heavy coat with multiple layers underneath, ready to weather the elements.

As soon as you stepped downstairs, you were hit with the familiar smell of coffee lofting about the cabin. You recognized the aroma as his favorite, the one he stockpiled at the agency, that was almost always coming from his office.

He had taken the time to pour you some, as well, evident by the mug he was trying to hand to you with a suspiciously innocent look on his face.

"Seriously?" you laughed when you eyed the receptacle he was offering.

It was his merch, clearly. The mug was black with sparkly gold trim, the pattern matching the chest on his jumpsuit . It was covered in comic book style quotation marks containing, what you were guessing, was supposed to be his quotes.

Hawks watched you admire the cup, looking a little too smug for his own good, and returned to sipping from the very plain mug in his other hand.

"Do you really say these things?" you laughed, not expecting an answer because there was no way such nonsense flew from his mouth in the middle of a fight.

"Aheh. 'I am speed'," you read aloud with a scoff. "More like, 'I do speed'," you teased with a grin, catching the way he almost choked on his coffee, shoulders trembling with laughter.

"Who the hell approved these?" you added on.

"The hero commission, I think," Hawks replied, shrugging his shoulders a little.

The coffee, of course, tasted great. He bought the expensive, high-class stuff, after all. Hawks was the only person you knew who could sleep in the dirt with his visor skewed across his face, without a complaint to be had, but refused to drink anything but imported, specially grown coffee beans.

He was ushering you out the door the second you were finished with your coffee, pushing you out into the snowy forestscape, hands grabby and wings fluttering anxiously.

Before you could shudder and complain about the cold, Hawks scooped you up into his arms, kicked the door shut with the heel of his boot, and took to the sky.

You couldn't believe he was out here without a jacket on. Your fully covered arms clung to him for dear life, shivering and trembling in the cold. He wasn't flying particularly fast; but, the winds felt punishing, ice cold biting at your cheeks and seeping in through your clothes.

You were too cold to really appreciate the beauty of the forest covered in freshly poured snow. The glistening, white peaks sparkled like something out of a fairytale in the dimly lit morning light.

"Come on, babe," Hawks cooed, turning his head to blow hot air right on your ear.

Well, no wonder he wasn't cold. It seemed to make sense to you, then, why he went into his rut during these times of the year. He was generating enough heat to be a transportable furnace.

"If you keep clinging to me like that, you're gonna miss the view," Hawks uttered, so close that his lips moved against your skin as he spoke.

You peeled back from him, away from the warmth you were desperately trying to steal. He hadn't stopped flying yet, but slowed down a bit.

"O-oh..." you whispered, taking in the snowy wilderness.

A few miles past the cabin's backyard was a cliff that dipped down into rolling mountains. He had flown overhead, granting a wonderful view of the many acres of untouched wilderness, towering trees and lush forest landscape over rolling hills and mountains.

But, Hawks hadn't dragged you out here at the crack of dawn just to see the snowy landscape. He wanted you out here right at sunrise for a very specific reason.

He had made it just in time for the sun to peak out from the horizon line, like a giant glimpsing through the trees on the mountain top.

The sun was shining a mystical light across the mountains. The overcast clouds were dark purple gliding across crystal clear, blue skies. Rays of red sunlight glided through the trees while gold laid out across the piles of snow like a glistening blanket.

"See?" Hawks murmured, his flight coming to a halt.

He hovered, fairly high up, wings flapping gently, arms still wound tight around you, holding you close. There was a gentle breeze brushing through his hair, causing the feathery strands to tickle at your cheeks.

While you were looking at the landscape in awe, he was staring at you. The sunlight lit up your face and reflected heavily on your eyes, making them glow like crystal orbs. You had finally stopped shivering, too in awe at the sight to notice the chilling bite of the wind.

He didn't say it aloud; but, the most beautiful thing in the sunrise was you.

He liked to tell himself that the rut was making him mushy, emotional. Surely, powerful pro-hero Hawks couldn't be this soft? But, he knew his rut was only amplifying what he already felt so strongly.

His rut made him less inhibited, surfaced darker, feral desires that lay in waiting under layers of discipline he had spent most of his life building.

Even without his rut, you had a power over him he couldn't deny, the power to break him, to peel back the masks he wore, to melt away his self-control, until he was reduced to a desperate animal.

Oh, but the beauty of it all was that you loved that side of him. You had proved to him that you loved every side of him, even the parts that he tried so desperately hard to ensure would never see the light of day.

Even if he could blame his desires on his mutation, that didn't change that he was an assassin, for heroes, yes, but a murderer none the less.

You-

-you knew that, and yet, still, those soft hands held him as if he was untainted. You purred beneath his touch as if those weren't the same hands he had used to kill.

"Keigo?" you hummed.

Just like that, there you were again, freeing him from the torment of his own mind, a lifeline to free him from drowning in the ocean.

"Thank you for this," you uttered, turning your head to look at him.

God, he was beautiful. His gold irises were amplified by the sunlight, like shiny coins in a wishing well, taking in the sight of you shamelessly.

The bird-like curve of his eyelids already gave him a mystical appearance, now further illuminated by the rays of light shining down from above. The wind was blowing, tossing his already frazzled hair in a senseless dance.

The bright red plumes that made up the shape of his wings looked like something out of a dream. In the sunlight, the feathers glowed magnificent crimson, glowing in sharp contrast to the pale white, wintery landscape.

Your hands, that had been gripping his shoulders during the flight, wove up the back of his neck, fingertips touching the trimmed hairs there. You felt his hands tighten where they were holding you, his arms weaving tighter, as if he could get you closer.

"Do you like it here?" Hawks uttered softly.

His tone concerned you a little, as if he was sincerely worried that you were a prisoner here.

You smiled, replying, "it's the first time we've gotten to truly be alone. I'm enjoying myself more than you think."

His gaze softened at your words. A couple of your fingers played with the soft, short hairs at the top of his neck. He felt unbearably warm there, skin slightly damp with sweat. It was startling, considering how cold it was outside.

You felt the soft brush of his lips and let your eyes flutter shut. He was slow, careful, like he was tasting something new and delicious for the first time.

When he pulled back and tilted his head, you felt the faintest drag of his chin across your cheek, felt the fine hairs of his beard tickle your skin.

He hadn't shaved in a couple weeks, leaving you to see him in a mess than most didn't get the honor of. The normally neatly trimmed hairs he shaved down to a fine patch on his chin were now covering most of his jawline, the same beautiful, pale blonde as the hair on his head.

Tantalized, you leaned in, nuzzling your cheek against his jaw, before tilting your head back and feeling the drag of his soft beard against your skin. It felt good, maybe a little too good, and you failed to suppress a quiet gasp.

When you had pulled back far enough to catch his gaze, you immediately realized his eyes had changed. The calm was gone; now, something akin to a storm was brewing underneath.

It was a look you were very familiar with.

He let out a low exhale, as if he had been holding his breath. Your name fell from his lips, low and sultry, a warning, or a curse, and it made you shudder.

Hawks tilted back suddenly and started a sharp decent downward. Having flown together many times, you weren't afraid. The arms around his shoulders tightened and you let out a soft gasp, but more so out of surprise than fear.

His wings fanned out and took him sharply soaring through the trees at a speed much faster than he had brought you here. His grip on you was almost painfully tight, as if his fingers were trying to dig past the fabric of your clothes to get to your skin.

Excitement made you forget about the biting cold, the forest around you distorted almost violently. Suddenly, the cabin door was creaking and then being slammed shut. You hadn't even seen the cabin come into view. Everything felt like a daze.

He flew up to the loft and dropped you unceremoniously at the edge of the bed. The tumble had resulted in you facing away from him; but, you could feel his eyes burning through you.

"Take off your clothes," Hawks commanded, his voice oddly polite despite the nature of his request.

Just as soon as you started working your jacket off, he was kneeling to pull at the laces on your boots. He was strangely gentle when he pulled your shoes off, less so when he tossed them aside. As you worked your shirt off, he pulled your pants and underwear down in one fell swoop, leaving you mostly bare and cold.

You rotated around and leaned up on your elbows, catching his cold stare, indicating that you were not done yet. You peeled your socks off, feeling a rush of excitement at the look he was giving you.

Hawks usually wore a kind, harmless face, not that it was unnatural, for he truly was a good person. However, most could easily forget or be blind to how powerful he was.

Now, in his gold eyes, that was what you saw, the reality that he could take whatever he wanted, when he wanted. You didn't have to be reminded, for every sparring and training session did just that: you couldn't best him if your life depended on it.

Still, Hawks wasn't that kind of person. He was the kind of loved, often times so passionately that you feared you couldn't keep up.

Even now, when his hands took hold of your waist, his body language dominating, wings spread wide behind him, you felt loved.

An amused sound, like a hum, rumbled out of his chest as he carefully maneuvered you around.

You were compliant, letting him roll you around and push your chest down into the bed. The hand on your back was gentle, but commanding, fingers splayed wide in the space between your shoulder blades.

Instead of nudging your thighs with his hands, a boot-clad toe poked between your ankles, commanding you to spread your legs, which you did with a low moan. You leaned up on your toes, presenting to him like an animal.

The sight threatened to send him into a spiral, and you felt his clothed body fall over you, pushing you down into the bed.

His wings flapped once, sending a sharp gust of wind spiraling around the room. There was a painfully obvious contrast between the soft texture of his shirt and the rough texture of his pants.

He made it very clear, with a roll of his hips, that he was ready to take you. The feeling of his clothed erection against your sex, combined with the knowledge that he could just slip right in without preamble, had you mewling.

"You like this," Hawks observed, the words like thunder as they rolled off his tongue.

He retreated, suddenly reeling back and standing behind you, warmth leaving along with him.

"You like when I just take?" he asked, accentuating 'take' with a smack to the back of your thigh. It wasn't hard enough to hurt, but it did manage to startle a yelp out of you.

"Yeah," he uttered lowly, agreeing with his own observations. "You like being Hawks' little plaything," he continued, almost purring the words.

Your delirious brain didn't really know what to expect next. When you heard a thump, you had no idea what to make of it, until you felt breath on your skin and realized that was the sound of Hawks' falling onto his knees behind you.

He didn't waste any time diving in, lapping a heavy tongue across your slit, from top to bottom. His hands gripped your thighs, keeping you still while his tongue breached your entrance.

If his enthusiasm and lack of grace wasn't enough, the rumbling sound he made was enough to make it obvious he liked it.

You couldn't fathom that your taste could possibly be that good; however, you didn't dare comment, especially not when he was doing things with his tongue that shouldn't be humanly possible.

A rough smack to your behind startled you from a delirious daze of pleasure. You yelped quietly, but otherwise remained compliant. When he smacked you again, this time growling faintly into your sex, it was clear he wanted something that you weren't delivering; but, you didn't know what.

"K-Keigo, what-" you whined, breaking off into a howl when he smacked you again.

Normally, such a touch would have you instinctively shriveling away; however, his grip on you was tight, and it kept you still.

Hawks smacked you again, you helplessly cried out, again, and the sound faded into moans that you couldn't possibly contain with what he was doing. You started to wonder, when another smack was delivered, if he was just doing that for his own amusement.

Eventually, he stopped and leaned back, rising to his feet. His hand slid over yours, large palm practically swallowing yours, and guided it back to your sex. You rotated a little, angling your body to follow his movement.

"Feel that," he gently commanded. "How wet and warm you are for me."

You heard the floorboard creak as he leaned back, clearly to get a good view. You did as he requested, immediately driving two fingers into yourself. Sure enough, you were slippery, walls compliant and squishy, and unbelievably warm inside.

Being ready for him with little provocation wasn't exactly a new thing. You were both very busy heroes and keeping your relationship on the downlow. That meant quickies more often than proper time together.

Yet, Hawks sounded immensely pleased; with himself or with you, you couldn't quite tell.

He returned to the floor, hand brushing your knuckles to push your fingers in as deep as they could go.

"Keigo, what are you-" you began, cutting off when his tongue returned to your heat, right alongside your fingers.

"Finger yourself," he told you, sounding oddly blissful despite the fact that you hadn't touched him at all. His cock was still trapped inside his pants, throbbing against the rough material.

You complied with his request, lacking in any grace or proper friction considering the awkward angle. However, Hawks groaned in approval at the view before leaning back in.

His tongue dipped in right alongside your digits. Immediately, he forced the pace and you were desperate to try and keep up, fingers squelching in and out of your core alongside the slobbery mess of his tongue.

Your fingers couldn't compare, lacking in the length, thickness and dexterity of his digits. But, it seemed that Hawks was less focused on getting you off and more focused on playing with you; or, maybe, you had severely underestimated what the taste of your essence was doing to him.

At some point, he pulled back, grabbed your wrist to remove your fingers from your core, and sucked them into his own mouth. You weren't expecting the teeth, and let out a low hiss when his fangs threatened to pierce the skin, holding you firmly in place while his tongue sucked your fingers clean.

He didn't release your hand when he was done. You heard the floorboards creak as he stood up, felt him tug your hand down, until your knuckles brushed his clothed cock.

"You want that?" Hawks breathed.

His free hand gently spread over the space between your shoulder blades, pushing you down before you could dare think to lean up. Your cheek was resting against the sheets, hair spewed about in a mess. His hand wandered, pushing hair out of the way until your neck and shoulders were properly exposed.

From where you laid on the bed, you couldn't make out the sight of him; but, you could see one of his wings, stretched out, looming predatorily.

"Yes," you replied hoarsely.

His hand glided over the prominent bump where your first vertebrae jutted from the top of your spine, and lowered, setting between your shoulder blades once more, where he held you still.

"Then, take it," Hawks uttered, his other hand releasing your wrist.

You let out a low hiss, wanting to curse him for making such a ridiculous request. You couldn't see his face; but, you sure as hell could feel the smirk he was wearing as he stared at you, watching your handle fumble with his belt.

You doubted it was mercy; but, Hawks leaned in closer, the tops of his thighs sliding over the backs of yours, making it a little easier to undo his belt buckle.

The button on his pants followed, but not with ease, before you tugged his zipper down. You couldn't tug his pants down like this, leaving you to fumble around with his boxers, trying to fish his cock out.

"Keigo, you fucking ass-" you growled, not bothering to hide your frustration.

Hawks laughed softly, sounding a little more out of it than he did amused. "'m sorry," he cooed. "-like seein' you struggle."

The slur in his voice should have given it away, his patience had depleted; however, it still surprised you when he suddenly swatted your hand away. He hooked his thumb on the hem of his boxers and pulled them down just enough for his cock to bob free.

You felt the smooth tip nudge at your entrance, the faintest warning, before he pushed forward and entered your moist heat.

"Ohhhh fuck," Hawks howled.

He gave you no time to become accustomed to the sudden intrusion, immediately pistoning his hips back and forth, driving his cock in and out of you.

One hand pinned your torso, while his thighs pinned your legs, and his other hand gripped your hip for leverage. You shifted your feet, trying to lift up on your toes to better the angle, and bumped against his boots.

He was still fully clothed; and, really, that shouldn't have mattered so much. After all, how many times had he freed his cock from his jumpsuit to take you quick and hard before tucking it back in and immediately looking as if nothing nefarious had occurred. Yet, still, the realization had you feeling dizzy.

Before you could nudge a hand between your thighs, something beat you to it. You recognized that bizarre texture. It was soft, sure, but a tad bit pricklier than a normal feather, with an unnatural, firm touch. The little heathen knew exactly how you liked to be touched there, too.

The wet, lewd noises of your union, skin slapping together, was drowned out by the litany of moans pouring from his mouth. If he wasn't crying out in ecstasy, he was huffing and puffing like he had just ran a marathon.

If you were being honest, he was being just a little too rough, a little too fast, offering you no reprieve. You didn't doubt that he would stop if you asked him to; but, you sure as hell didn't want him to. The intensity of it all had you on a plain of existence you rarely got to experience, where pleasure became blinding and mind-numbing.

His hand slid off your back and onto the bed, grabbing a fistful of the sheets as he set a brutal pace, the kind that threatened to unravel your sanity.

"Fuck! You feel so fucking good," he growled, sounding so out of breath and lost. "Gonna fill you up. Yeah, I am. Want my seed dripping out of you all fucking week."

High off the pleasure, and maybe a little influenced by his own state, you moaned approvingly at the suggestion.

"Baby," he whined, suddenly sounding like he was in pain. The feather fluttering against your pearl intensified, practically vibrating against you with how fast it was moving.

"Need you come, need you to come," Hawks pleaded, the words hissing out from his lips between desperate pants.

You didn't think you could come in that moment. Everything felt so good, from his cock rearranging your insides to his feather flicking at your clit. The pleasure was tingling down your thighs and crawling up your spine. You could barely breathe, let along process a coherent thought beyond Keigo.

The hand that had been holding your hip let go and joined the other in gripping the bed. He arched over you, forehead meeting your back.

"Come for me, come for me," Hawks sobbed.

You realized then, as he trembled behind you, that he had reached his own completion, and he didn't slow down until his orgasm waned. You could feel his seed, like molten lava as it filled your insides.

Hawks was still panting when he growled, "again."

He flipped you over, winding your legs over his waist and somehow managing to keep his cock seated inside of you during the transition. Your arms flopped uselessly above your head. You felt weak, laying there like a doll while he turned you over. Still, it felt good: his cock, his hands, his warmth.

One of his arms looped beneath your lower back and tugged you properly onto the bed. He climbed onto the sheets and followed, dragging you beneath him.

He was prepared to continue thrusting into you wildly and blindly chase another orgasm when your eyes met and he froze up. You could practically see him blink away delirious arousal, the sight of your debauched face bringing him back to his senses.

"B-baby, do you need me to stop?" Hawks offered, the words falling from his lips so weakly.

You huffed out a weak breath and reached for him. He leaned down, letting you wind your arms across his shoulders. Your fingers dipped across his clothed back until you reached his wings.

Hawks literally shouted when your fingers dipped into the exposed seams on the shirt and touched the baby feathers growing fresh from his back. The sound rattled your bones and made you jerk from the startle.

He didn't have to be told twice, obviously, for Hawks continued his thrusting immediately. The slippery, wet sounds of his claim over your body was downright disgusting, and you loved it. Your legs clung desperately to his hips, heels digging into the backs of his thighs.

One of his feathers was still pressed against your clit, now trapped between your bodies. It had stopped moving; but, every time he thrust back into you, it created delicious friction.

Your assault on his wings rendered Hawks incapable of speech. The pleasured sounds he made was almost unnatural. If you didn't know any better, you would have thought he was in pain between the broken, blabbering moans and choked, sharp gasping.

His arms were still wound beneath you, holding onto you for leverage and clinging to you so closely, so tightly, it was almost crushing. His wings were arched up high, flapping occasionally as if to increase the momentum behind his thrusts.

His face fell into your throat, forcing your head back into the sheets. He was burning hot, practically oozing sweat. In the corner of your eye, you could see the red tint staining his ears. You could practically feel his frustration gnawing its way through his body and into yours.

Without warning, you felt what couldn't be mistaken for anything other than Hawks' teeth piercing the skin of your neck. Sure, he had bit you before, even left faint hickies on occasion; however, this was something else entirely, and forced a scream from your throat.

You had no doubt he had pierced the skin, judging by how it burned. He was growling into the skin, holding onto you with his teeth as if you were attempting to flee. You didn't dare release his wings, fingers woven through the fine plumes, caressing the sensitive skin of his shoulder blades, where crimson feathers grew.

The bite hurt, without a doubt, but there was no denying the electrical shocks of pleasure it sent through your body. If it wasn't that, then it was the growls vibrating from his mouth onto your skin.

Suddenly, your orgasm hit, and left you screaming and gasping with a sort of ferocity you didn't think you were capable of. Something that sounded almost like his name fell from your lips at some point. Your back arched and your legs trembled where they rested around his hips.

You failed to realize he was following closely behind you. Your grip on his feathers had gone limp and you didn't notice the way his wings arched up, the tips of the longest quills nearly touching the ceiling. He kept going and going, until he was spent and your cries of ecstasy came to a halt.

Hawks let go of your throat and leaned up, removing his arms from beneath you to set his palms on the sheets. He should have felt embarrassed or ashamed or something. But, looking down at the bleeding bite wound on your shoulder, watching the way your chest heaved with heavy breaths, seeing the tint of red along your cheeks and neck, he felt blissfully proud.

Hawks scooped you into an embrace and carefully rolled onto his side, bringing you in with him and cradling you against his chest. One of his wings fell over you, the plumes stretched wide to hide you from the outside world. All you could see was him, his handsome face, the crimson feathers of his wings.

You were acutely aware that he was still inside you, still somewhat hard; but, his temperature was lowering and his breathing was steadily returning to normal. Your fingers untangled from his plumes and came around to rest limply on his chest.

He lapped his tongue softly against the bite wound until it stopped bleeding before peppering it with kisses. It stung a little and you squirmed in his grasp.

"I'm not sorry about the bite," Hawks confessed lowly, leaning back to look at your face.

"Me either," you replied, offering him a weak smile.

He looked blissfully unaware until you leaned in and sucked some of the skin of his neck into your mouth. Hawks groaned approvingly, laying still until you were satisfied and let go, leaving behind a faint, purple bruise.

You stared at his handsome face, watching the vibrant, red blush slowly leave his features as he calmed down. Blonde locks were clinging to his sweat soaked forehead and everything between the two of you reeked of sex. Yet, you couldn't bring yourself to complain when he looked so damn happy.

Hawks leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss against yours lips. Before he could retreat, you tilted your head and leaned in, not letting him escape. He hummed into the kiss, letting you lead until you were content and departed with a wet smack.

"Just a little bit longer," he promised, fingers gently digging into your back.

"Tell me what you're thinking," you requested, nuzzling your nose against his.

Something uncertain flickered in his gold eyes and his lids narrowed slightly.

"It's not sensical," he uttered lowly, and you felt one of his hands slide around to your front. His thumb lovingly brushed along the dip of your tummy, beneath your belly button. His gold eyes shifted down, staring at the expansion of your naval with dedication.

You both had implants. It wasn't going to happen. He knew that. Of course he did. But, he couldn't help but feel dedicated to commit to the effort, as if it would.

Your hand followed his, spreading over his fingers to press him down gently over your lower abdomen, as if this would be successful, as if there was a chance he would take. The encouragement to put him ease.

Hawks wanted to believe it was the rut talking. Some of it was, his body deliriously driven to mate, to the point that he overheated and arousal pained his core. But, his motivation wasn't purely biological. It was because it was you, whom he trusted with every fiber of his being.

But, he couldn't bring himself to tell you that. You loved being a hero, and he wasn't going to take that from you.

It felt special, being hidden with him like this, beneath his wing, whispering such depravities to one and other, that the rest of the world would never know. You felt safe, in a way that felt impossible. Here, as irrational as it sounded, you felt like Hawks could protect you from the world.