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sadderdaazee · 1 month

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“Daddy’s Best Friend”

♡︎> toji fushiguro (listen to florida kilos by lana del rey or the playlist linked) <♡︎

it felt odd. a little exciting. a little impish. with teetering silence brimming in your throat, your eyes drool against him.

on a sad, sad, fortunate evening, when your father was out on an unplanned business meeting to algeria, his best-friend of two years finds you alone in the house.

he had plans with your father, to play shoji with him and sip on some extra expensive wine, but fate has different plans for him.

and while you see the man standing by your doorway, a little arch pulling his right brow up, you're composed.

so, so composed.

that's what you tell yourself when you invite him inside the house.

and oh, he knows. he definitely knows. if he didn't, why would he walk in anyway?

"sir," so you say, voice low in a purr. its so low, so graveling, so seductive.

because in the twenty-two years of your life, you've never wanted a man to fuck you as bad as when you met toji.

it was a beautiful nocturne, moon's eloquent rays peeking by the expensive restaurant's window. a family dinner. and it was also your twentieth birthday, with your daddy's rich shenanigans to spoil you perfectly, he hosted a family dinner. a family dinner where your father also introduced his new friend, which so happened to be toji. when his eyes met yours, you knew this toji would be the death of your sanity.

now, your distance with your daddy's best friend is close. almost unfamiliarly close. a kind of close where you can smell his cologne but not enough to feel his searing skin.

then he sits by the sofa, and you sit right next to him. so close, your bare thighs touch his own.

"tryna seduce me, l/n?" he replies, voice as sultry as yours.

this isn't unfamiliar to him. he's grown. known. he can read people. women. their intentions. and he can clearly read yours. well, he has been reading yours since he first met you.

his elbows are by his knees in a confident way, fingers entwined among each other.

he doesn't know why he stays, what he waits for. but he stays. his chin is by his shoulder and his eyes are on you.

"brilliant job trying to guess, mr. toji. but you're wrong." you sip into his eyes.

his eyebrows raise, an almost cocky curve tugging by his smirk. you lean a little till your hands find his shoulder.

"i can read your eyes, l/n. read that look. i'm older, less naïve." he says, eyes running through yours to your lips.

"what look, sir?"

"really, sweetheart?" a smirk again. "you wanna play it this way, hmm?"

"think you know that well, sir." your eyes linger by his lips, a coquettish drag of desire falling against them.

he sighs.

"your father is my friend," agitation drapes his voice when he feels your breath pool on his lips.

"such a saint." your eyes meet his in a sarcastic manner, and for a moment, he's holding back. hating himself for even getting in this situation.

but he's not a man of morals, and definitely not someone who lets opportunities burn.

"fuck," he whimpers. "c'mere," so his lips are on yours. the crave for his hands and the ache of him finally slowly burning, his spark embedding with your inflammable desire.

his lips love to kiss your neck, and his hands find your body like a lost lamb. they trace. draw. paint. an eager hold of his searing palms under your loose shirt, as he's pulling it up.

you're wearing nothing underneath. and he's shocked. toji never knew he was friends with the father of a slut.

his fingers pinch your nipples, palms grope your tits. his lips write their soliloquies against yours, much more desperate than yours.

"what've you done t'me," his lips find your neck again, and he pulls your shirt up till your collar. his kisses drip between your tits, over the supple flesh of them and finally against the perky nubs. he sucks with fervor, eyes drawn lazy with lust as they waltz by your face. you're laying on your back on the sofa, his knee between your legs and other on the ground. "so fucking beautiful."

"not worried about d-mmh-dad anymore, hmm?" you coo mockingly as his lips trail down and lower.

"what can i do when y'such a dirty little whore, hmm?" he says, head trailed between your thighs.

his scorching breath loiters by your groin, a shiver sprinting across your bones and settling somewhere in your core.

"gonna take this off," he's breathless as his fingers hook and slide off your panties, your fingers desperately lacing among his strands of hair. you softly mutter a moan in response, an ethereal gesture dripping like honey through his ears. and toji never knew someone's voice could unravel such thoughts in him. he wants to devour you and make you sing his favorite chorus of moans.

his lips softly kiss your inner thigh, palms groping the supple flesh of your outer thigh as you let out a breath of desperation.

for once, he just stares at your pussy, like a man thanking the heavens above.

then his lips are slowly finding their way by your lower lips. he softly kisses your slit without hesitation and you swear all the breath among your lungs had vanished when he did.

his kisses are gentle, soft, dripping like honey against your slit as he furtively looks up.

"fuck, toji," you caress his hair between your fingers as he slowly kisses his way up your pussy.

the kiss he plants by your clit is a little harder than the rest, and he smirks. smirks when he feels how sensitive you are as your thighs involuntarily close around his head.

"keep your legs open for me," he breathes, spreading apart your legs. "good, y'doing so good for me." his voice is a purr as his thumb meets your slick slit, spreading it out to gain more access to you. he kisses again, a little harsher than before than has you breathing heavily.

he's waited wayyy to damn long to have this.

he pushes his tongue out, not being able to resist the urge to feel and taste you on his tongue any longer. and if he had been addicted to something before, it'd be nothing compared to the taste of you. he's addicted.

your arousal slips on his tongue, and he has to lick again. and again. and again, till he's pushing his tongue inside your pussy while you're gripping on his hair and messing all over his face. your back is slightly arching, trembling when his lips wrap around your clit.

"that's it toji," you pull on his hair and for a moment, his eyes close, relishing within your taste. "fuuck..."

but he's more of a grunter. grunting into your pussy and moaning like that's the most delicious thing he's ever tasted.

he's silent, tongue speaking the loudest words of pleasure at your cunt, lips hard sucking at your clit. his fingers find their way, from drooling by your thighs from keeping your legs spread to falling by your slit.

he loves it. your moans. your taste. and fuck, he wishes he'd fucked you the day he met you because shit. he's fucked by your taste.

your honey leaks by his lips and he has to pull back for a breath, finger still massaging your folds up and down.

"fuckin' filthy," he licks his lips and drinks you all. his fingers move and slither into your pussy with ease. it has you gasping. trembling for air because although you've fingered yourself on many instances before, the stretch of his big fingers were just something different. "n' tight. startin' to think you're not as much of a whore as i thought."

"why, don't you like running your mouth a whole lot," you sneer through your fluster. your eyes meet his and he chuckles, taking his finger out of your cunt.

the ache of his touch rattles among your hips as you find a small whine falling by your lips. before you get to whine and mourn the lost feeling, his hand meets your pussy in a spank.

"oh my— shit," you moan, and find that his he had added two more fingers into your vagina. he's fingering you with three of his fingers ruthlessly, lips wrapped tight around your clit and tongue relentlessly flicking it. you're a mess, but he likes it messy.

he likes you messy.

he curls his fingers upwards as the tip of them meets your sweet spot.

and oh, how he's proved how much he loves to run his mouth on you.

you're closing to your climax, fingers threaded into his melting strands of hair that feel like silk under your touch. and he keeps ravaging like a man starved, the greed for you finally relenting when you chant his name and feel his fingers go in and out at a pace.

"cum for me, let me taste you." he must've said but you're melting like a wax with no coherence, deaf to your surroundings as your orgasm approaches. and it approaches intensely. his fingers don't stop their motion, fingering you faster as you finally reach the point.

you moan when you orgasm, and you feel it so, so deeply within your bones and nerves. with your heart erratically thundering beneath your ribs and your ears ringing, you still feel his touch even when he's kissing your lips through your ecstasy.

"there, there," he kisses you more and then goes down on you again. not to ravage but to drink everything you've elicited from your pussy. "you're doing so good for me sweetheart." he licks everything up as every swipe of his tongue gathers your sensitivity.

his words soothe you through your orgasm as your breaths fall heavy.

"fuck," and when you're finally back to reality, you sit up. "never knew you would've been so good at this..."

your gaze drags from his chuckle to his crotch, his hard erection threatening to poke through the fabric of his clothes. so you fall to your knees, your shirt falling and covering your body.

but that's not what he wants.

"no, sugar. think that's enough for today." his finger meets your chin, making you look up at him from between his legs. and your eyes, fuck, they're the most beautiful ocean of flaming fire he's ever decided to burn himself upon. and he was hard. so achingly hard that he has to question if he's ever been this aroused before.

"but i haven't even—"

"no, you listen to me." anew sort of agitation drapes his voice. a kind you know that he's aching to not hold back. "we can't continue this. your da—"

"please," your desperate words twist something within his gut, and fuuck his cock. it aches to be touched. touched by you. his carnal gaze drinks upon your sultry words melting into the way you seem so vulnerable to him.

he looks down, and your pleading features wrecks his conscience. shatters till the shards are seeping and slicing into his skin. because suddenly, he's pulling you so harshly against his lips, hands sliding beneath your ribs and circling around your limbs.

your eyes widen, and in a whim, you're kissing him back, hands on either sides of his thighs.

you kiss deeply. so deeply, you think your lips might swell.

and toji has never been so lost in a kiss before as he is now. with such passion, he has to question his own sanity.

his fervor entwines with your own in soliloquies. he loves it. you love it.

your hands are trembling by his jaw and neck, carving your desires by his lips. you can almost taste yourself on his lips.

"why can't you understand," he says among breathless kisses, "i will ruin you. this will ruin us.

"ruin me then," your replies steep under the cries of pleas. you want this. and you want this so badly, "ruin us, toji."

he pulls you up from your knees till you're sitting on his lap, kissing intensely.

"god... y/n," he breathes in a swoon of agitation, trailing his kisses to your jaw as you arch in his warm hold. "you're making this so hard for me."

"once," your pleas, your eyes, the look on your face — he just can't fucking resist it. resist the way you're furtively grinding your bare pussy on his clothed cock with that gaze, with that desperation. "please."

and if you knew how his own desperation pars your own, you'd be surprised.

you're intoxicating. and he's a drunkard.

so he says fuck it to his conscience.

his grip on the curve of your waist grows taut, a small stifled moan leaving your lips as you continue to grind on him.

after all, he too is a man who sins.

he kisses the side of your neck in a manner of subtle affection and in a swift motion, he takes off your top, kisses between your breasts with such fervent breaths, you're sure that's gonna leave a bruise.

he pulls away for a second, panting against your lips as he tilts his face, eyes desperately drooling against your lips, "speak of this to anyone and i'll—"

"i won't." you say as if swearing upon your life. he chuckles, falling into your chest again. his eyes are sultry, half lidded as if so drunk.

he licks, sucks your breasts with greedy licks and kisses them more. your hands are falling to his belt, and he moans softly, voice rumbling beneath your bones and heart.

his head falls by your shoulder, eyes meeting where your hands unbuckle his belt.

"you seem so inexperienced," he chuckles, kissing your shoulder to whisper within your ear, "sure you can handle me?"

you fluster upon his words, taking in a breath to flush it out. "wanna help me find out." a smirk kisses your expression, and he loves it.

by now, you can feel his cock. its rigid. warm. heavy. your touch against his length sears his skin, and he lets out an agitated impatient gasp.

and you're surprised.

it falls by your stomach, and your pussy clenches.

his touch is sultry, even when he's slowly lifting you by your hips, eyes on yours with such intensity, you almost float by his gaze.

"take it," he breathes, and you nod. he rubs his tip over your lower lips, back and forth till he's generously sinking into your pussy inch by inch.

the stretch just by his tip is delicious, albeit painful. and he knows it would be painful, so despite his licentious urges, he lets you take him in slowly.

by when you're fully sheathed atop his cock and he's bottomed out fully into your tight, tight walls, you're breathing in unison, bodies almost one together. toji's eyes meet yours again.

something's so oddly sensual about you, that he can't help but fall into your ludicrous antics. something so dreamy about you, he just can't help but moan into your feeling.

"y'so fucking tight," his head falls back on the headrest of the sofa, eyes closed as his hands grip your hips.

"you're too fucking huge," you grunt in both pleasure and pain, trying to move against his cock, but his grip on your hips cease your movements.

"stay like this for a moment, please." he's whimpering.

you flinch, and so does your pussy. so deliciously that toji has to take a moment to catch his breath .

then he's lifting you up by your hips, and harshly slamming you onto his cock. it hurts so good that you almost urge to cum against him then and there itself.

"s'tight but still swallowing my cock," he grunts as you fall into a fit of moans. "aren't you a pretty girl."

and before you know it, he's laying you on your back, placing one leg over his shoulder, pushing and pulling out of your pussy. so harshly, it tickles your lower abdomen.

"fuuck baby," he moans, "takin' me so, so well. my cock's fucking stretching you out but you're just takin' it."

"yes, fuck, fuck, yes right there-" you gasp, feeling his tip graze a certain spot that has a vaguely familiar sensation stirring into your abdomen.

"makin' me feel sooo good," he moans, his hands falling by your face and tucking the wayward strands of your hair behind your ear, taking your chin between his fingers, "look at me, fuck, look at me, pretty."

"yes, fuuck, i'm so fucking close toji, fuck, fuck," his pace is animalistic as he goes raw on you, thrusting so deeply that his tip kisses your cervix.

“fuck baby, gonna cum. gonna pump you full." but before he can even say another word, you clench around him so impossibly, it's almost hard for him to thrust deeper.

you hit your orgasm as you pull him in and kiss his neck to soothe the flinches and stutters coming with the orgasm, the electricity running across your spine and rattling every bone within your body.

his arms circle around your waist as he groans, finally letting himself go. his cock stutters and swells into your walls, till he's filling your pussy with his cum. his thumb slowly strokes your cheek, slowing his pace as he groans and lets him fall through his own high.

then he pulls out, watching his tip pop out of your puffy slit. his cum trickles out of your pussy, dripping on the sofa as you sigh, settling within the breaths among your ribs.

"y/n? are you home, honey?" fuck. your dad.

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youkaiyume-art · 2 months

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I don't think I ever shared this, so here you go have some spicy Earthspark!Charbee.

Full view over on blue sky

Also on pillowfort

Originally posted early for patrons.

#LEMON #spicy #transformers #charbee #earthspark #transformers: earthspark #tfe #charlie watson #bumblebee #art #mine #censored preview #follow me on bsky btw for more spicy art

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nightfang22 · 7 months

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For the wayne smut could you add the idea of them losing their virginity to each other. Thank you<3

Of course I can!Thank you so much and I hope you love it!Sorry if it's not great,it is my first spicy fic.Anyways,lemme know what you think!

Virgin Lovers

Warnings:SMUT Minors DNI

Pairing:Wayne McCullough x f!Reader

Word Count:1.5k

His smile. His eyes. His lips. Wayne McCullough infected your every thought. He made you feel things that you had never felt before. As you were lost in thought, you didn't realize that your phone had been constantly buzzing. You picked it up on the third ring of the 4th call. "Hello?"

"Hey Y/n, you got any plans later?" It was Orlando. You and Orlando had always been good friends which is how you met Wayne. Orlando had introduced you two one day when you had begged him not to make you skip class alone.

*Flashback*

"Pleaseeeee Orlando? I don't wanna go alone and you're way better at this than I am! Besides, I'm only skipping to help you get these new Pokemon cards you wanted! I don't have to do this, you know." You pouted and whined until he conceded. "Fine fine I'll go with you. You probably wouldn't know what to look for anyways." You were about to make an offended rebuttal when something else caught his attention. Or someone, you should say. Turning around to see who it was, you thought it was just going to be the girl he's been constantly crushing on with a spinal cage. But no. When you turned around, you saw none other than Wayne McCullough walking in your direction down the hallway. You felt your heart pound and your cheeks flush. Your throat constricted and suddenly your mouth had run dry. You guess Orlando had noticed this and nudged you in the side with his elbow. "Oooo somebody got it bad, huh? Who is it? Is it the guy with the clarinet you have band with?" You jabbed him with your elbow back and tried not to stare at Wayne's gorgeously bruised up face. Orlando caught notice and smiled wide. "Oh, you got it bad for my boy, Wayne huh? Want me to hook you up?" Your head snapped violently in his direction. "I swear to the Gods Orlando, if you embarrass me in front of him I will kill you." Wayne walked up to us and looked at Orlando, giving a little head nod. "Wayne man! Where you been?" Wayne chuckled a little and it was this sexy soft rumbling noise. "Whatcha mean? I'm like 20 minutes late." Orlando laughed. "Yeah 20 minutes and like 3 weeks!" Orlando must have seen you fidgeting with the rings on the chain around your neck cause he put his hand on your shoulder and looked at Wayne. "Wayne, this is Y/n L/n. She's new-ish. She was new, like a month ago." You felt Wayne's eyes on you and you looked up at him through your eyelashes before smiling awkwardly. "Y/n, this is the man. The myth. The legend. My best friend, Wayne mothafuckin McCullough." Wayne punched Orlando in the shoulder and he winced. "Damn man! I'm tryin to do you a favor!" Wayne's eyes never left yours, even when you felt your cheeks tinge pink and you looked away briefly.

*Flashback Over*

You had been inseparable ever since. Wayne ended up cutting class with you and at some point you had completely lost Orlando and went to some record store where Wayne had asked you if you wanted him to be your boyfriend. You and Wayne have been together for 3 years now and you could never be happier.

"Uh not really. Probably just homework. Why?"

"Well, I was wondering if you wanted to go with me and Wayne to this club off campus later? It's supposed to be super rave and like alternative vibes and I know that's your shit. It took me forever to get Wayne to agree and I maybe sorta already told him you'd go?" "Orlando!"

"I'm tryin to get a hot goth girlfriend! Help a brotha out!"

I sigh in defeat through my nose. "Fine. I'll go. But the moment anyone is too drunk, we're leaving. Got it?"

"Yeah yeah for sure! Thanks, Y/n! You the best!"

*Timeskip to the club*

You look around at your environment. It's a lot of flashing lights and loud music. Not really your scene. You scan the crowd for Orlando and Wayne when you spot them against the wall outside. You walk up to them and you notice Wayne's eyes scan up and down your body. You're wearing a faux leather 2 piece with a silver body chain covered in dangly purple and blue rhinestones with black sparkly platforms. "Hey guys, sorry if I'm late I-" You get interrupted by Wayne pulling you in by the waist. He keeps you close to him and it looks like he's glaring at something when you look up at his face. You look over and see him glaring at some guy. The creep looked like he was eyeing you and you weren't for it. You curled closer to Wayne before Orlando waved us to go inside with him. The place was loud but very hype and fun. It didn't really seem like your kind of scene though. You don't get why Orlando wanted us to come. Neither you or Wayne were much of the party type. After watching everyone dance for a while, you decided to call it a night.

Wayne took you home and got you settled inside, laying you down in bed. You just laid there staring at his beautiful face. "I love you." Wayne never blushes but his cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink. You don't know where the courage came from but you leaned up and kissed him, wrapping your arms around his neck. The kiss quickly evolved into a heated makeout session. Wayne crawled into bed on to of you, pulling away only to take off his shoes cause he knows you have a thing about shoes on the bed. His hands roam your body in your pretty outfit. You pull away tossing off your body chain and making quick work of his shirt. Wayne wasn't necessarily 'buff' but he was very well tones and had a gorgeous frame. Your hands glided from his shoulders down to his waistline, working on the button of his jeans. He pulled away to look at you. "Are you sure? I-I mean I've never. And you've never. What if you regret it?" You pull him in for a sweet kiss. "I could never regret it. If anything, I wouldn't want to lose it to anyone else." That must have really got him going cause he practically tore off your clothes. He slid his jeans off along with his underwear and kissed my neck, pulling a gasp from you. When he pulls away, you finally have a good chance to look at him and holy fuck. You didn't realize your boyfriend was so….well endowed. Big enough that it looked like it might hurt. Wayne grabbed something out of his wallet and when you noticed what it was, he looked at you sheepishly. "Orlando gave it to me." He shrugged and smiled shyly. He rolled on the condom and crawled back over you. "And you're absolutely sure?" You nodded and placed your arms around his neck so that you could play with his hair. He placed himself at your entrance before stopping. "Hang on gimme your leg." You looked at him confused before lifting your leg and he placed it up on his shoulder, doing the same with the other one. "I read somewhere that it hurts less if you do it like this." He realigned himself at your entrance and slowly pushed in. You felt tears prick your eyes as he stretched you and he kissed your forehead, stopping. He made you look into his eyes. "Are you okay? Do we need to stop?" You shook your head. He stayed still, waiting for you to adjust until you nodded you head. He began to move and even though it hurt, it was a good hurt. You moaned softly as he bottomed out inside you. Wayne gently bit down on your shoulder and kissed it before placing his forehead on yours, beginning to find a steady rhythm. Your moans were the sweetest sound he had ever heard and he just wanted to keep hearing them. With one especially rough thrust he hit that special spot inside you and you arched your back while digging your nails into his and he ate that shit up. He continued at that pace as you screamed out his name in pure ecstasy. You felt the knot in your stomach pulling tighter and your breathing picked up more. He held you close as you came crashing down from your high as his hips stuttered, painting the inside of the condom with his seed. He pulled out slowly, tossing the condom into the bin. He got up to grab a towel to clean you up and brought back a glass of water for you. After you're all cleaned up, he crawls back into bed with you, covering you up and pulling you close as you slowly fall asleep in his arms.

#wayne 2019 #wayne series #wayne mccullough x reader #wayne x reader #wayne mccullough #orlando #x reader #y/n #x y/n #smut #female reader #established relationship #lemon #fanfiction #fanfic #spicy #not enough people write for this fandom #please gimme more asks #please please please

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deejadabbles · 9 months

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Ruin (Rex x Fem!Reader) Smut

Summary: Rex proves why clones are superior to natborns. A.N: I....I don't know what to say for myself. I woke up horny and key smashed this filth onto my laptop. Word Count: 1,085 Warnings: Rough sex (with aftercare), marking, dirty talk, competency kink, a hint of choking, mentions of clone bigotry.

Masterlist /// Tag List Sign Up /// AO3

You had no idea what had gotten into Rex that night, but whatever it was, you were reaping the best benefits from it.

His hands had a bruising grip on your wrists as they pinned you to the bed, his hip pounding relentlessly into you as he took you from behind, growling and grunting lowly in your ear. His cock was stretching you with every thrust, barely prepared to take him when he threw you on the bed. Getting so wet from the way he pulled your clothes off was your only saving grace as he practically impaled you.

Rex must have decided that you were too quiet for him, because without warning his lips moved from your ear, darting down to give your shoulder a rough bite. Something just short of a scream ripped from your throat as you threw your head back- or at least, as much as you could, with him pinning you down with his whole body.

“That’s it,” he growled, tongue darting out to soothe the mark he left, “moan and scream as loud as you want. Let everyone hear you. Kark, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? You get off letting everyone know that you’re in here, getting fucked by a clone.”

The way he hissed out the word startled you, even in the heat of the moment. So, that’s what got into him. You tried to lean back, press your lips to his ear or temple or any part of him you could reach as he grazed his teeth over more of your skin.

“I'm getting fucked by a man, not just a clon- AH!”

Another guttural sound left you when he reangled his hips, fucking even deeper as he bit you again. “It’s alright, mesh’la,” he hummed against your skin, “I know what they think of us, what they think of me.” Another growl as he released his death grip on your wrist and instead wrapped his large hand around your throat. “Thinking we’re beneath them, like kriffing droids.” He gave just the lightest squeeze, fingers playing at your neck, “But you know different, don’t you, darling? You ever had a natborn fuck you like this? Fuck you this good?”

You couldn’t stand it, between his hips pounding against your ass, his hands and teeth marking you up, and those filthy words, you were a mess, eyes rolling back, mouth agape, body like jelly under him. All you could manage was an urgent nod and a whimper of agreement.

Rex grunted his disapproval, before dragging his hand down your body and shoving it between the bed and your cunt. He laid out his rough fingers right where he was grinding you into the mattress, curling the digits just right so your clit rubbed hard against them with every thrust of his bruising hips.

“Say it,” he growled, “tell me why you let this clone fuck you.”

You made sure your moan of a curse was loud as your body pulsed with pleasure under him. Kriff, you were close, so close! Somehow, you found your voice, even if it was a raw, barely coherent mess. “B-best I’ve ever had! No one ever fu-fucked me so good, no one but you, Rex!”

That got his approval, he hummed, nuzzling you just below your ear, his hips and hands never letting up. “That’s right, mesh’la, ruined you, haven’t I? Ruined you for any other man.”

“Yes- yes! Fuck, Rex, want you to ruin me over ‘n over.”

You could feel his cock twitch at that, the hand still pinning your wrist tightening possessively. His lips returned to your ear and right when his fingers started to work in tandem with his thrusts, he purred, “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

Your pleasure reached its peak suddenly and blind hot, so euphoric that you weren’t even sure what you sounded like when it happened. It must have been music to his ears, though, because he let out a distracted curse as he slid the hand from your clit to grip your hip. Just like everything else about him tonight, it was hard and rough, holding you in place as Rex readjusted himself again, using your abused cunt to chase his own end.

It didn’t take him long and you cried out in overstimulated bliss as you felt him spill deep inside you, filling you up, making you his yet again. Just like all the marks he left that night. You couldn’t help but whimper when he pulled out of you, feeling his cum dripping on your ass and thighs.

Neither of you were able to breathe right after that, and Rex collapsed half on the bed, half over you and he tried to get his ragged breathing under control. You were laying there, spent, eyes closed and uncaring of the mess your open mouth and dripping pussy were making of the sheets.

Still, when Rex, still breathing hard, started laying tender kisses over your hair, you shuddered with delight. He moved your body this way and that until he was under you with your head to his chest. Next, he took your wrist and brought it to his mouth, soft lips pressing gently to where he had held you so tightly.

“I- I left bruises, didn’t I?” he mumbled, and the shame underlying his tone made you look up, “ ‘m sorry, cyare, I don’t know what got into me.”

His gentle hold made it easy for you to reach out and cup his cheek, thumb tracing over his lips. “Nothing to apologize for, Rex. I’m not complaining.”

You wanted to ask who and what was said about clones that got him so upset, mostly so you could give the di’kutla a piece of your mind, but you decided to save that for later. Right now, you just wanted to show Rex exactly how superior he was to anyone who thought less of him. With all the strength you could muster, you raised yourself up, straddling his hips and holding his face in both hands. You kissed him, pulling him against your still sore body and running your hands over his short hair.

He moaned into your mouth and this time his fingers gripped your hips gently, kneading the tender skin with care.

“Rex,” your tone was breathy when you pulled back, holding his gaze as you said, “I’m going to show you how thankful I am that you ruin me every night.”

Slowly, a smirk lifted his mouth, and that haze of possessive need darkened his eyes again.

Taglist: @blueink-bluesoul @anxiouspineapple99 @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @commander-sunshine @dystopicjumpsuit @wolffegirlsunite @sunshinesdaydream @arcsimper5 @littlemissmanga @wings-and-beskar @clonemedickix @freesia-writes @idontgetanysleep @523rdrebel

#nobody look at me #this is the second time my writing plans for the day have been hijacked by sexy rexy #idk what brought this on. besides wanting rex to pin me to the bed #captain rex x reader #rex x reader #captain rex x you #spicy lemons #sexy rexy #clone thirsting #deeja writes #rex smut #captain rex smut

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bakuliwrites · 11 months

Text

Ebb and Flow- Prince Sidon x Reader

Rating: 18+ (MINORS DNI)

Fandom: The Legend of Zelda

Relationship: Prince Sidon x Reader

Summary: “I will not accept that all we’re meant to be are star-crossed lovers,” Sidon states passionately, his tone filled with a steady resolve, “I cannot accept it. Was it not here that I pledged myself to you? And you to me? Was it not here that we promised our hearts to one another? Aren’t we more than just crossing tides?”Sidon is given earth shattering news. His duty as a Zora Prince outweighs all else. But how can he accept that when his love for you is so deep?

Tags: Female Reader, Smut, Angst, PIV, Semi-Public S*x, Outdoor S*x, Oral S*x, Shark Anatomy, Established Relationship, Star-crossed Lovers, Romance

Read here in this post or over on my AO3

DISCLAIMER: TOTK SPOILERS, 18+

Sidon wonders if he had spoken too softly. He expected some sort of reaction from you, even if it wasn’t a dramatic, soul-wrenching one. But your silence comes as a shock to him. Your unreadable gaze penetrates him from where you’re seated by the window in your quarters. Quarters he had specifically modified to house a Hylian such as yourself. Just for you. Fashioned to house you for what he thought would be forever. From the luxurious water bed on one side, where the two of you have shared so many passionate nights, to the cozy, crackling fireplace on the other- it’s all been for you, and him, and what he thought would be your future together.

“Y-you what?” you finally manage, confirming to Sidon that it wasn’t that you didn’t hear him, but that you couldn’t believe what he’d said. He hadn't wanted to tell you until he returned from his diplomatic mission, but he couldn't keep it a secret from you. Sidon's words stick to his throat. They feel barbed, razor-like, cutting his tongue on their way out.

“My father has decided- He’s arranged my marriage,” Sidon repeats, words seeping from his mouth like blood. But he tastes nothing when his tongue grazes over his lower lip, checking for a fresh wound. Still, he tastes metal, haunting and sharp. You’re bathed in moonlight, a silver gloss draping elegantly over your skin. Tonight, you appear to Sidon like an ethereal ghost, distant and untouchable, a curiously beautiful and captivating goddess. Like the moon delivered you to him and has come back this night to steal you away.

“Not only has my father found who he considers to be a ‘suitable match’ for me, but he’s arranged the date of our meeting,” Sidon goes on, wanting to fill this deeply uncomfortable silence with something, anything, “Of our marriage.”

He trails off, glancing down at his feet and willing himself not to shed the tears that are stinging his eyes. He’s always known there was a risk that his marriage would be arranged. You aren’t Zora, you’re not royalty. It was a small chance that King Dorephan would even consider you in the running to marry Sidon. Your duty to Hyrule and Sidon’s duty to his people were always meant to clash. But he never thought it would be something to worry about this soon. His father’s decision to step down from the throne came as a shock, and the decision regarding Sidon’s marriage that much more shocking.

Your silence is killing him, gnawing at his insides, anxiety running rampant in his mind. Say something, anything. Please, he silently begs.

“When?” is all you’re able to question through your stupor. The look he gives you is grave, crestfallen.

“In less than a fortnight,” he almost whispers. He watches as your eyes fall slowly shut, as you clench your fists, your jaw. Every part of you tenses, but not out of anger. You take a deep breath and Sidon can tell you’re trying to hold in your tears. But when you exhale, they start to roll down your cheeks, dripping freely to the floor beneath. Droplets of pure moonlight shimmering as they fall. He rushes to you, scoops you into his arms, your small, Hylian form fitting so perfectly in his embrace.

“I fought for us,” Sidon continues, as if he needs to prove to you that his love is genuine. As if you didn’t already know. Your shuddering sobs into his shoulder seem to shake the very foundation beneath you.

“I fought so hard for us,” he whimpers, holding you closer, tighter, as if he were to let go, the moon would finally take you back to your celestial throne, “But my father wouldn’t agree. He wouldn’t- No matter how much I protested. How much I argued and debated-”

“It’s okay,” you manage through tears, littering Sidon’s face with kisses, “I know you fought. I know you tried as hard as you could.”

Sorrow blooms in every facet of your irises as you stare into Sidon’s gilded ones. If his heart hadn’t shattered in its entirety before, it certainly does now. He opens his mouth to say more, but he realizes he’s not even sure what he wants to say. He can’t reassure you. He can’t even reassure himself.

A knock at your door pulls him begrudgingly from this private moment. An attendant calls out to him, "Your Highness, we should leave before it gets much later."

“They can wait,” Sidon speaks, turning back towards you, not wanting to leave you after such devastating news. You smile softly, shaking your head.

“No they can’t, my darling,” you gently return. He knows it, you know it. His royal duties, his people must always come first. You’ve never quibbled with him about this, something he deeply admires about you.

Sidon presses a deep, lingering kiss to your lips. He can taste the salt of your tears, the salt of his own. He hadn’t even realized he’d shed any until the soft pads of your thumbs wipe them from his cheeks. He gazes at you underneath his furrowed brow, memorizing the features of your lovely face. If you dissolve into moonlight while he’s gone, he would never forgive himself for not kissing you one last time.

“Wait for me,” he breathes when he pulls back, “We'll figure this- something out.” You nod, leaning your forehead against his and closing your eyes. Desperately, Sidon wishes he didn’t have to leave. Not in the middle of such an important conversation.

“I should be no more than a few days,” he promises, giving you one final kiss before he wrenches himself from you and reluctantly slips out of your room. He doesn’t dare look back, knowing your melancholy gaze will destroy him if he does.

***

Sidon's diplomatic meeting with the Rito was a success, though it was mostly just a formality. The Zora and Rito are already on quite friendly terms, so he wasn't too concerned in the first place. The entire trip, however, his mind was preoccupied with you, with marriage, with grief. He's mulled over every possible solution. He contemplates further arguments with his father, knowing full-well that he won’t win them. But for you, it’s most certainly worth a try. He thinks about running away with you, eloping under the light of the moon, starting a new life on some remote island, far away from everything. But he knows he couldn’t leave his people behind, and he is certain that you won’t let him. Sidon could refuse to marry anyone at all, but that would mean he couldn’t be with you. But wouldn’t it be better to live his life alone if he can’t live it with you?

These thoughts swirl endlessly around his mind, a vortex of confusion and possibility. Nothing seems right. He loves you. No one else. He can’t imagine loving someone else. Or growing to love someone else. Up until now, Sidon has imagined spending the rest of his life with you. Of proposing marriage to you, in the customary Hylian fashion. Starting a family together, running the Zora kingdom together. Growing old with one another. Nights spent gazing up at the stars, held close in one another’s arms. Mornings waking up in your warm embrace.

With his father’s decision, all hope Sidon had of making a life with you has been dashed. On his journey home, he tries to come up with some sort of solution, but as the Zora kingdom draws nearer and nearer, the Prince frustratingly comes up with nothing useful.

***

An attendant greets Sidon on the bridge leading into the palace, handing off a small slip of paper before dashing off again. The Prince unfolds the note, recognizing your handwriting immediately. “Meet me in our usual spot,” it reads, followed by a small heart and the first letter of your name. Sidon politely excuses himself from his fellow travelers and bolts off to meet you, hoping that you haven’t been waiting long for him.

By the time Sidon reaches Toto Lake, the moon is hovering high in the night sky, casting swathes of silver light across all of Hyrule. Its reflection wavers on the surface of the lake as Sidon’s keen eyes search for you. He spots you in the lake’s center, gliding through the water, every stroke disrupting the liquid mirror around you. The lake appears to envelope your form, encompassing you almost lovingly. Toto holds so many memories for Sidon. It’s where he sought solace after his sister’s passing. Where he found peace during the devastating years that Calamity Ganon reigned. The temperate waters have provided shelter in his most distressing times. It’s also where Sidon first pledged himself to you, promising his heart to you. And where you promised yours to him. A sacred, secret promise.

Sidon watches you for a moment. You cling to the crumbling ruins in the lake’s center, gazing up at the distant, twinkling stars above, not seeming to have noticed him yet. Crickets chirp in harmony with the nearby ribbits of hot-footed frogs, hiding stealthily amongst the scattered lily pads near the shore. Sidon wonders if this is the last time he’s ever going to see you, a thought that pierces his heart like a vicious barb. He can’t help but notice the pile of bags and personal items that you’ve left in the nearby clearing, like you’re prepared to travel a great distance.

Sidon is pulled from this painful thought when you wave to him, having finally noticed him lingering there. He waves back, somewhat apprehensive, but collects himself before diving into the lake. Sidon swiftly cuts through the water, desperate to reach you, the red of his fin cresting the surface of the lake. He wonders if he’ll reach you in time before the moon summons you home again.

“My darling,” you exhale as he reaches you, pulling you into his embrace and holding you close. You cling to Sidon, the gentle thrum of your heart against his chest reinvigorating him after his long journey home. Why do you puzzle-piece so perfectly into his form? It seems like a cruel, cosmic joke that you would fit so neatly, so completely in Sidon’s arms.

“You’re leaving?” he questions, pulling back to meet your sorrowful gaze. Gently, his large hand cups your cheek, one thumb smoothing over your soft skin. You lean your head to the side, letting your eyelids flutter shut as you press a tender kiss into the palm of his hand.

“I must,” you state just barely above a whisper, a quiver in your voice that threatens to shatter Sidon’s already fragile calm, “I heard word around the palace that your bride-to-be arrives tomorrow.”

This is news to Sidon, news that washes waves of vertigo and anxiety over him. They threaten to drown him, pummel him into the silt and sand until he is nothing more than a smoothed over shell, tossed about in the surf. Sidon steadies himself, taking a deep breath, using your pleasant scent, your warmth as an anchor to this moment. Your cheeks are flushed and when you open your eyes once again, Sidon can tell that you’ve been crying, though you shed no tears in front of him. He wants to beg you to stay, to beseech the moon above and bargain that you might grace him just a little longer with your presence. What would it take for the heavenly bodies to allow you just a few hours longer with him?

“I will not accept that all we’re meant to be are star-crossed lovers,” Sidon states passionately, his tone filled with a steady resolve, “I cannot accept it. Was it not here that I pledged myself to you? And you to me? Was it not here that we promised our hearts to one another?”

“Aren’t we more than just crossing tides?” he finishes. You contemplate this for a moment, before leaning your forehead against his. Beneath the cool sheen of water on your skin, Sidon feels the heat of your blood flowing strong through your veins. Your strength, your poise in this painful time serves as an example to him. He is always put together, always princely and regal. You let him fall apart, without judgement. Sidon can feel his composure fracture at your next words.

“I think we come from the same ancient waters,” you begin, your hands coming to rest on either side of his face, “In some primordial sea, we rode the same tides. Perhaps someday, we shall again. But maybe this time around, we are only meant to flow together briefly, before we part.”

“This cannot be,” Sidon whispers, voice wavering and tears beginning to roll down his cheekbones,“I feel your spirit ebb and flow inside of me. You inhabit me in a way that no one else ever has.”

“I am with you, always. My soul is woven into every fiber of your being. And yours, mine,” you return, and with your exhale, warm tears flow from your bright eyes, “Sidon, I love you, body and soul.”

He can take no more. Sidon crashes his lips into yours, feverish and desperate. You drape your arms over his shoulders, press yourself tightly to him. Perhaps the gracious moon will allow the two of you to merge, to live out the remainders of your lives as one being, one body, one soul.

You wrap your legs around his waist, resting on his narrow hips while he grips your supple thighs. You’re bare to him already, your naked form bathed in silver moonlight. You are glorious, mesmerizing. A bright star, fallen to earth so that Sidon might marvel at your beauty, your mystery before you ascend to your place carved out in the heavens once again.

Sidon can feel his arousal growing as you palm his bulge, claspers pressing against his sheathe. Your warm tongue languidly explores his mouth, breath fanning softly against him. His hands smooth over your slick curves, worshipping every part of you. He commits the plushness of your body to memory, stores your soft moans and tiny gasps so that he might recall them later, in his loneliest hours. The way you breathe his name is holy and nearly brings him to his knees.

“My darling, my pearl,” he whimpers pathetically as you trail kiss after searing kiss along his jawline and down his neck. Your teeth leave their bittersweet marks in his flesh, his talons dragging down your back, agonizing and delightful all at once.

"I will bear your marks for all of time,” he announces, voice husky and low, “And know that I am yours, and you are mine."

“I am yours always. Sidon,” you coo, hand massaging torturously slow over his painful bulge, “In this lifetime, and the next. In all that we should ever exist in together. And even those that we do not.”

Sidon’s fingers tangle in the wet strands of your hair, tugging as he tilts your head so he can have better access to the tender spot of flesh behind your ear. He luxuriates in the lyrical moans that flutter from your lips as he nibbles and sucks at your sensitive skin. His warm tongue drags along your neck, goosebumps appearing in his wake. Your excitement fuels him, thrills him like nothing else does. His fingers find his way to your slick folds, running its length, dousing himself with you.

He can’t contain himself any longer, his claspers freeing themselves from their sheathe. You're quick to grasp one, pumping slow and rhythmic.

“Sidon, please, allow me,” you entreat, your doe-eyed glance up at him only spurring on his arousal. He releases his grip on you, gently setting you back in the water and letting you push him onto a nearby ledge of the ruins. If his people saw him now- oh, the very thought. How un-princely of him- an idea that inexplicably excites him. Prince Sidon- always so put together. Always so collected and proper. Prince Sidon- with the lips of a Hylian warrior, a celestial goddess, around one cock and her hand wrapped around the other.

Your tongue swirls around his swollen tip, making him throw his head back in overwhelming pleasure as you doubly stimulate him. Your hand strokes him at one speed, while your mouth works at another, before you fall into a rhythm with both. Every once in a while, you pause to lick a stripe up either shaft, before diving back in once again. Desperate to have you near, Sidon weaves the fingers of your free hand with his own and grips tight. You squeeze back, letting him know you’re still present, though you seem happily preoccupied with both of his cocks.

“Oh, you work miracles, my love,” he groans, chest heavy with pleasure. He stays your hand, lets you work with just your mouth on one of his claspers. It would bring him no greater pleasure than to come inside you, he explains.

“Your wish is my command, my prince,” you impishly return, mischief glinting in your eyes. You only ever call him, “Prince,” in court, when you have to be more formal. Or in private, when you want to tease him. An electric pulse runs through the length of Sidon’s body at your devilish gaze. You grasp his thighs, nails digging into his flesh. The sensation sends waves of pleasure through him. As your head bobs up and down, Sidon tries his best not to buck his hips into you, but it’s so very difficult. The coil in his core tightens, threatening to snap at any moment. And when it finally does, you help him ride out the electrifying pulses of his first orgasm that night.

***

A burst of salt hits the back of your throat. Bright brine graces your tongue. Your chest feels warm as you swallow, like your body is trying to imbue itself with Sidon. Like you're trying to weave him into every fiber of your being. His ragged breath is music to your ears as you slide your mouth off him. With a wet pop you release him, a string of spit connecting him to you. A connection tenderly wiped away by one of Sidon’s massive thumbs. When you glance up at him, his eyes are dark with lust, slitted pupils wide in pools of molten gold. Sidon’s cheeks are rosy and his body temperature warm, so very warm compared to his usual chill.

You hardly have a moment to catch your breath before Sidon draws you up to him, smashing his lips against yours. Your nails dig into the hard muscles of his back, his streamlined body pressed so deliciously against yours. Your heat is throbbing, every ounce of you heavy with arousal. Carefully, Sidon flips you over, laying you ever so gently on the slab of rock beneath. Your head is cradled by some of the snaking ivy growing on these ancient ruins. Sidon gazes down at you, eyes glimmering in the night. His look is one of curiosity, awe. Though he’s seen you bare to him so many times before, he looks at you like it’s the first time.

“I am at your mercy,” he hushes, sweeping strands of your hair out of your face, before leaning down to tenderly press his lips to yours. He lays kiss-upon-kiss over your cheeks, down your neck, along your collarbone. Featherlight, he trails his lips down your chest, suckling gently on each of the pert buds of your nipples. His sharp teeth graze them softly before he makes his way down your abdomen. His hands knead your hips, cup and massage your breasts as his mouth reaches your heat. He wouldn’t dare tease you, but he can’t help nibbling at your thighs a bit, leaving little love-bites in his wake. After a moment of reveling in your plush inner-thighs, Sidon turns his attention to your pussy. His tongue is languid, warm, as he drags it along your folds. The moan that escapes your lips is salacious. You hear Sidon growl with excitement. He flicks his gilded gaze up at you before he softly kisses the sensitive nub of your clit.

Sidon dives into you, lapping up your arousal like it’s his lifeblood. Like he simply cannot survive without the taste of you. He savors you, tongue slowly circling your clit, testing your entrance. You squirm under the firm grasp he has on your hips, bucking into him, causing him to chuckle at your eagerness. He hoists your legs over his broad shoulders, burying his head deeper into you. Sidon drinks you in like he’s parched. With each of your tiny mewls, you feel Sidon’s happy hums reverberating through your body.

“Sidon, please,” you whine, smoothing one hand over the sleek fin atop his head, “I need to feel you in me.”

He withdraws, the cool night air hitting your overheated folds surprising you. You gasp at its harshness, but Sidon is quick to replace the loss of heat with his hand, palming your sensitive pussy. When his lips meet yours, he tastes of you.

“My darling, I’m yours. Entirely, completely. Every part of me. All parts of my soul,” he promises, his voice filled with conviction, with an aching passion.

“I am yours, Sidon,” you return, breathless and longing, “Forever and always.”

Tenderly, he spreads your legs, letting you wrap them around his waist, placing a large hand on the small of your back to help angle you. The stars overhead seem so close, so clear, like you’re encompassed in an endless dome of them.

“Are you ready, my love?” Sidon asks, his cheeks flushed, breaths laborious. You nod enthusiastically, more than ready for him. He’s so slick, he slips into you with more ease than you expect. But he’s so big, you can feel him stretching out your entrance. He goes slow, gentle, allowing you ample time to adjust. Every few moments he asks if you’re alright. You stabilize yourself, arms slung around his chest, hands resting on his sinewy back. He’s cool to the touch, a sheen of water over his skin.

With one of Sidon’s cock’s inside you, the other rests against your stomach. It’s hard again already, having recovered fast from your earlier ministrations. You grasp it gently, pumping rhythmically with Sidon’s rocking motions. A sultry moan falls from his lips at this double stimulation.

Sidon grinds slow and shallow for a while, before pressing deeper into you. You let go of the clasper resting against your stomach, allowing it to rest against you. With every pump into you, Sidon’s cock presses against the soft pad of your cervix. The pleasure is intense, your body quivering with each voltaic charge Sidon pulses into you. The heat generated between you is overwhelming, your bodies trying so desperately to merge into one. Your fingernails dig into his back, his talons into your thighs. Sidon buries his head into the crook of your neck, suckling little bruises, marking you. He delights in the way your breasts bounce with every motion.

Goddess, please, let the moonlight fuse us into one, he begs, but he knows this cannot be. The two of you try your very best to do it yourselves.

As Sidon grinds into you, the grip you have on his back prompts him to pick up his pace.

“My darling, my pearl,” he manages to whisper, his breathing heavy, “You are, and always shall be, the light of my life.”

“You are my moon, my stars, my light in the darkness,” you return, voice constrained by the taut coil in your core. Your walls quake around Sidon’s quivering cock.

“Ha,” he huffs, pounding harder into you, “So close, my darling.”

And so are you, but you can’t speak. For a moment later, the straining coil in you springs loose. Sidon’s name echoes through the clearing, a prayer in this ancient water temple. You cream around Sidon’s cock as he falls apart, his pace erratic as his hot cum fills your cunt. You feel even more paint your stomach, threads coating your abdomen from his other cock. Sidon calls out your name, a hymn to match yours. Sidon wonders if the moon hears the adoration, the infinite love in his voice. You know it does.

When you’ve milked him for everything he’s worth, when he’s spent himself entirely inside you and on you, you pull Sidon down, crashing your lips into his. Feverishly, the two of you press kiss after kiss to one another, heated and yearning. You let the silence wash over you, grateful for the cool night breeze on your overheated bodies. After a while, Sidon gently pulls out of you, cock slick with your combined efforts. He pulls you into his embrace, cradling you in his arms. You belong here, enveloped by him. Enveloping him. How could the Goddess be so cruel to make you fit so perfectly, only to take you away from him?

“Leave in the morning,” Sidon begs, pressing a small kiss to the corner of your lip, “Please, stay one more night. Besides, it’s not safe.”

You shake your head, a rueful smile on your lips and sorrow in your eyes, “If I don’t leave now, it’ll be that much harder for me to leave tomorrow. And don’t worry, Zelda has sent forth people to retrieve me. They’ll be here within the hour. I’ll be okay.”

Sidon’s heart can’t drop anymore, but if it could, it certainly would. He’s not sure what he expected to feel after everything that’s happened. The depth of his melancholy is too great for him to understand at the moment. It will take time for him to process. He doesn’t feel numb. No, instead he savors your embrace. He holds you close, littering your face with kisses, gently stroking your back while you rub small circles into his. If he could live in this moment forever, he would.

A horn blows in the distance, drawing the two of you out of your tender sanctuary in time. In the distance, you see lights on the bridge of the palace. It’s a Hylian caravan of guards, no doubt from the palace. No doubt sent here for you. You cling to Sidon’s back as he swims the two of you to shore.

“I wish you could whisk me away on your back. I wish we could just keep swimming and not look back,” you murmur to him, laying a gentle kiss on his fin.

“I do, too,” is all he can manage, trying so very hard not to shed any more tears. You dress quickly and Sidon helps you gather all your things. These are your last moments together. The bitter sweetness sticks in Sidon’s chest, viscous like tree sap, clinging to his ribs. Hand-in-hand you walk back down the cliff side and make your way to the bridge. Just out of sight of the Hylian caravan, you pull Sidon aside and lay your lips against his one more time. Your kiss is passionate and conveys every immense bit of your love for him. He hopes you can feel the same from him.

When you pull back, your eyes are filled with adoration. And his with sorrow and love. You smile softly.

"The sea will carry us to one another,” you begin, tears trickling down your cheeks, “Time and again. I will find you in the next life, where our tides will be one and the same."

Sidon leans his forehead against yours, allowing his tears to fall freely.

“My heart belongs to you, always,” he breathes, “You reside in me, sheltered and safe.”

“You will always find a home in my heart,” you return, pressing one final kiss to his lips. Your hand lingers in his for a moment, before it slips from his grasp. Prince Sidon of the Zora watches your form grow smaller and smaller on the horizon, before it disappears behind the cliff sides, and he is left alone once again.

A/N: Okay, don’t get me wrong, I actually think Lady Yona is adorable and I have all sorts of plans for some OC/Sidon/Link/Yona headcanons and drawings. But I couldn’t resist writing some Sidon/Reader angst!!!!!! Oh gosh, if I ever decide to do a follow up, there's just too many good options. a) Sidon refuses the arranged marriage and declares that he's marrying you, against his father's wishes b) Sidon decides to runaway with you and you live out the rest of your lives on a secluded island c) Sidon goes through with the marriage and you go your separate ways or, perhaps my favorite option, d) you, and Sidon, and Link, AND Yona become a happy little polycule because that would be adorable and wonderful (and I've said it before, but I'll say it again, if you know me, you know I love anything poly!!!!!!) Thank you so much for reading! This was a delight to write, though it definitely filled me with a lot of sadness. As always, likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated! Hope you are all doing amazing! Lots of love 💜

#the legend of zelda #prince sidon #totk spoilers #sidon x reader #prince sidon x reader #loz: botw #Loz: totk #spicy #lemon #angst and smut #dani writes #my writing #loz fanfiction

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scary-lasagna · 1 month

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breeding kink offender 🥺?

holy moly guys

Offender [NSFW]

Oh, how he adores the way your body trembles beneath him.

His muscular frame, this wall of solid muscle, has you pinned down in the loveliest way possible against his satin sheets.

Each tendril has a task of heightening your pleasure, whether it be keeping your legs from trembling closed, or a delicate hold around your chest.

One has even slithered between your thighs to work their magic through the flurry of Offender's pistoning hips.

You've never seen him like this. He was incredibly frenzied, crazed with the spirit of whatever Sex-God had possessed him.

How many times has he pumped his seed into you now? Six? Seven? Maybe even eight?

He's lost count, but he knows from the look in your eyes there will be many more to come.

A harsh growl snapped past his lips, and he couldn't help but to dip own and bury his face into the crook of your neck.

The tendril flailing against your sex paired with feeling the throbbing of his cock push against that perfect spot drew you to your third orgasm of the night.

The sheets below you were far from the point of repair, his claws had torn them to shreds in the desperation of pleasure.

Offender panted, this once piece of solid muscle above you trembled and shook, barely managing to keep himself from collapsing on you.

“Just one more, hm?”

#creepypasta #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta imagines #creepypasta blog #offender x reader #offenderman x reader #creepypasta x reader #lemon #spicy

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sheinthatfandom · 2 years

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Stunning view

#the water looks great too lol #spicy lemon #el phantasmo #elp

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bdsmrist · 12 days

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WARNING⚠️ N‼️$‼️F‼️W‼️ AHEAD!!!

CHILCHUCK RIDING SENSHI😳🥵💦

i know i know…. take a second or two to cool down after all that….

#pretty spicy stuff ik #very lemon very Yaoi #dunmesh #dungeon meshi #chilshi

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somedaylazysomeday · 6 months

Text

An Emissary of the (Goblin) King

Your quiet life as a teacher falls apart when a student wishes you away. Eventually, Jareth has to decide what to do with you.

Jareth x fem!reader (no use of 'y/n')

*This was written for a request in which the reader was supposed to be plus-sized. As such, there are a few scattered references to weight and body shape.

**Not related to my other Labyrinth works.

Rating: Explicit. Minors DNI.

Word Count: 6,800

Warnings: themes of being forgotten, slight loss of identity, bar flirting, slight harassment, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex, creampie.

Masterlist

---

When you had gotten wished away in your thirties, you were… perturbed.

After all, you had been long past the days of fairy tales and make-believe. Magic was a lovely story element for children, a way to encourage their imaginations and allow them to dream of the impossible. But it wasn’t real.

At least, that had been your theory between the ages of ten and thirty-something. Then, one of your second-grade students in the after-school tutoring session had gotten upset with you. You had told him that he couldn’t have a second helping of snacks unless he agreed to work on his math problems with you. He had been struggling with subtraction in particular, but was so energetic that it was difficult for him to focus.

You hadn’t really been able to blame him - it was after school hours and the sun was beginning to set, throwing beams of blazing orange light from beneath a carpet of dark purple clouds. It was the perfect counterpoint to the playfully spooky Halloween decorations you had put up around the room.

Anyway, when you had insisted that your student sit down and focus on his math sheet before you let him have another handful of gummy worms, he had pouted his tiny face. With an impressive amount of venom for a six-year-old, he said, “Well, I wish the goblins would take you away right now.”

You were still wearing an indulgent smile when you appeared in the straw-strewn throne room with an anticlimactic pop!

The Goblin King was lounging on his uncomfortable-looking throne, watching you with his own indulgent smile. “Wished away by a child, were you? Pity. He likely meant nothing by it, but… well, what’s said is said. I doubt he will opt to run the labyrinth, but let us see if he calls.”

Operating under the idea that you had fallen and given yourself a rather nasty concussion, you simply nodded and took a seat on the cleanest section of the stone floor you could find. It was quiet in the throne room, though you could hear the unmistakable sounds of distant chaos.

It had started small - brushing a piece of straw from the stone slab next to you. It fell into the pit and that made you feel a little better. Then you pushed the straw from the next stone, and the next until the section around you was clear. Then you started using your feet to push the straw down the stairs until it was gathered in a neat pile at the bottom.

“Would you like a broom?” the man with the wild hair asked. You were cautious when you faced him, but he simply looked amused.

“And a dustpan, if you don’t mind.”

He shook his head. “Unnecessary.”

You hadn’t bothered asking what that meant. Instead, you applied yourself to neatening the throne room, working from the edges and sweeping all the debris toward the pit in the center of the room. Even the brown dots - ones you hoped were mud but suspected were some kind of dried fecal matter - lifted easily enough under the stiff bristles of the broom.

At last, the room was clean and you swiped your forearm across your perspiring face. You didn’t know how the pit was going to get clean, but you were going to be miffed if the answer was ‘you’.

When you caught movement from the corner of your eye, you jumped. You hadn’t forgotten the room’s other occupant - how could you? - but he moved with such impossible silence that you couldn’t track him with hearing alone.

The man came to stand beside you and you took the chance to study him subtly. He looked… strange.

You shook yourself, reflexively berating yourself for the unkind thought, but you hadn’t been wrong. His face was narrow, flaring out at the cheekbones. His eyes were mismatched, but not in a heterochromatic way. No, one of his eyes was bluish-green while the other was simply black, as if it were entirely pupil.

His hair was long and straight, though cut at various lengths that left it tapering from his head down. Like a shag haircut on steroids. You were a little jealous and had vaguely started wondering whether you would be able to pull off the style when he turned. You realized just how tall he was.

His mismatched stare was heavy and intense, and you redirected your attention as soon as possible. You opted to look at the pit instead, to take in the pile of straw and droppings, but it was gone.

“What happened to the straw?” you asked, bewildered by the empty pit in front of you.

He smirked, lips twisting with an amusement that didn’t reach his eyes. “I discarded it, of course.”

“No, you didn’t,” you contradicted. “I’ve been standing there the whole time.”

“I used magic,” he clarified.

“Magic isn’t real.”

The man’s eyes widened, then narrowed at you. “Have you not yet realized that you’re in a different place than you were when you were wished away?”

“You said that earlier,” you remembered. “‘Wished away’. What do you mean?”

“At last, the typical questions,” he sighed. “Admittedly, far later than they are usually asked. Allow me to explain.”

The explanation that followed had been interesting, if mildly ludicrous: the man was actually a fae named Jareth. He collected lost and wished away items, though the only ones of them people cared enough to chase down were living things. He guarded the Labyrinth, collected the living things that appeared in the Underground - mostly children and pets, as he had explained - and allowed the wishers to run the Labyrinth if they wanted their disappeared item back.

It could have been a far shorter explanation if you hadn’t been far more convinced by your concussion theory.

In the end, Jareth had gotten tired of listening to your counterarguments and had sent you to ask Hoggle the rest of your questions. Hoggle had answered your questions… eventually. With a lot of complaining and work between giving those answers. You didn’t mind - work was something to keep you from running in circles in your own thoughts, and you learned a lot about the Labyrinth and the Underground simply by following Hoggle around.

Jareth didn’t call you back to the throne room for nearly a week.

“It seems as though your wisher is not going to run for you,” he said, taking on an expression he may have thought looked pitying. “He is at home with his mother, playing and eating and sleeping quite well without another thought of you. Quite the heroic youth."

“He’s six!” you reminded, mildly outraged at Jareth’s censure. “Even if he had offered, I wouldn’t want him running your labyrinth. It’s a death trap.”

Jareth’s expression had flattened at your insult, his mismatched eyes glittering with irritation. “Whether he would have run or not is irrelevant in the end. The real question is: what is to be done with you?”

“I…” You disliked asking questions you already knew the answers to, but there was nothing to be gained by playing things cool. “Could I go back home?”

“No.”

The blunt answer, though exactly what you had expected, still made you wilt.

Jareth, for all that he made you nervous, didn’t look cruel about it. In a voice that was kinder than you had hoped, he said, “Even if I would agree to send you home, it would be impossible. You have been here too long. You have eaten and drank from the Underground. A single bite, a single sip… those could be reasoned with. Enough to influence a dream, forge a connection. But anything more? You are of this place now, more one of us than one of them.”

You wanted to argue, but something in your chest agreed, some nameless tangle of a thing recognizing that everyone and everything you had known were ‘them’. And you were not.

Not anymore.

You had expected to be eaten by the Firies or thrown into the Bog or at least turned into a goblin, but Jareth had given you a different job: you were to be his hands and eyes in the human world.

“After all, no one will wish their belongings to me if they are ignorant of my existence,” he had told you. “You will spread information. Books and legends, stories told by firelight and in dark rooms as their occupants drift to sleep.”

And that was your task, had been for an eternity before you thought to check what year it was at all. People didn’t recognize you when you went to the human world, not even if you happened upon someone you had once known. That was fortunately rare, and became more so as the years faded. You didn’t seem to age, not the way you had. Perhaps there was an extra strand of silver in your hair or an aching joint where there never had been before, but it was uncommon.

Oh, you looked the same as you always had. You could verify that any time you were on the surface. Just then, for instance, you were standing outside of a bar and could see yourself in the shine of the old-fashioned, gilt-edged windows. You were generously curved as you had been before, your face the same shape.

If you stared too long, though, you could catch something strange in your face, in the way you walked. Nothing overt, of course, but something that made you look… sharp. Wild. It drew some attention when someone watched you for too long. The mask of your humanity - what remained of it, anyway - fell away with exposure. From there, it could go either way. Sometimes, humans fled like prey before a predator. Other times, they hit on you.

Had humanity always been like this? So willing to run into danger? You didn’t think so, but it was getting difficult to remember.

Either way, you had barely sat down at the bar and ordered a glass of wine before someone slid onto the barstool beside you. To be fair, you couldn’t be too upset about it. You had been searching for company.

“I’ll pay for that,” the man announced to the bartender. The bartender didn’t look like she could have cared less, but she managed a nod. “So, what’s your name?”

“I’m much more interested in learning yours,” you deflected.

The stranger beamed at that and you smiled back. If you had your way, he wouldn’t learn your name. Even if he did, he would forget it before the day ended and you would never see him again. You would feel guilty about that, but you needed him for temporary relief from your body’s needs, nothing more.

He could never be anything more.

You pushed all of that from your mind and focused on your partner for the evening. He was handsome, the type of person you dated before you were wished away. It was getting harder to remember those days.

The man’s personality was a little intense, but that tended to ease back a bit after someone realized that you weren’t going to disappear from them… yet.

Two drinks in, you had offered a smile that was almost genuine and were getting ready to suggest a change in location when your chest vibrated.

That wasn’t quite the right way to phrase it, but it was a difficult sensation to describe. It felt as though your ribcage and all of the organs it protected shook in tandem. The closest you had ever come to pinpointing the sensation was to compare it to the ringing of a gong, though thankfully, without the noise of the actual strike.

The sensation was a warning that the Goblin King wanted you back in the Underground. It would happen more often the longer you ignored the summons, and would eventually grow painful.

You rarely let it continue that long.

“I have to go,” you told your potential partner, standing abruptly from the stool and handing your credit card to the bartender. “Drinks are on me.”

At least, you assumed it was a credit card. It had no numbers or identification on it and you certainly didn’t have any money, but you had never had trouble paying for anything with it. Jareth had given it to you with minimal explanation.

“Hang on-” the man protested, catching at your arm. You looked at his hand, then at him. Some of your strangeness must have shown through, since he slowly withdrew. He wasn’t wary enough, since he continued to speak. “What happened? I thought this was going somewhere.”

“It was,” you agreed simply, accepting your card from the bartender and scrawling a series of loops on the receipt she slid toward you. “Now it’s not.”

Fortunately for your almost-partner for the evening, he thought better of trying to physically stop you again and you left the bar unaccosted.

Transportation to the Underground was rarely as dramatic as it had been that first time. Instead of a sudden, jarring switch in location, it happened as a slow fade. In this instance, you were walking and your surroundings seemed to blur slightly. When you could see clearly once more, you were in the Goblin King's throne room.

Your forward motion hadn’t stopped, but it was far more risky to keep walking with the goblins thronging around your feet. You looked down at the group currently blocking your way and said, “Excuse me.”

The goblins - who had apparently been occupied in some kind of chicken-based game, shrieked and tumbled to either side. You continued toward the throne.

For his part, Jareth was pretending he hadn’t noticed you yet. Instead, he was sprawled across his throne and studying the riding crop he had resting across his knees. Most observers would believe he was pensive, utterly lost in thought, but you knew better. Jareth loved to be watched, and if he could convince you that you had chosen to look without any prompting from him, so much the better.

“You summoned me, sir?” you asked, reaching the base of the throne and offering a small incline of your head.

Jareth glanced over, managing to look surprised, curious, and haughty. “Yes, I want a report on your progress.”

“Do you mind if I dismiss your subjects?”

“As if you do not number among them?” Jareth tested, a corner of his mouth quirking upward knowingly. When you simply maintained eye contact, he gave a slight nod. “Very well, if it would please you.”

With effort, you managed not to shake your head at him. You were well able to focus even with the din of goblins around you, but Jareth took any respite he could get from them.

“Can you all go downstairs for a while?” you asked, directing the question to the room at large. “I need to speak with the king.”

“You’s is speaking to him now,” one squeaky goblin pointed out, sounding sullen.

Before the others could agree, you quickly cut in and diverted them. “You’re right, I am. But we need to talk about some very boring stuff and we need the room to be quiet. If you want to stay, you can’t make any noise. In fact, you could even help clean the throne room…”

You didn’t have a chance to say anything else, the goblins rushed out of the room in a panicked tide. You smirked at the receding wave of excitable, temperamental creatures. It seemed like a lifetime had passed since you had taught six and seven year-olds, but the goblins weren’t so different from human children.

When you turned around, Jareth was sitting on the throne like it was a chair rather than a fainting couch. One of his eyebrows was raised and he looked impressed despite himself. “Someday, you must help me gain such mastery over my subjects.”

“Impossible,” you told him flatly. “They’re too focused on impressing you.”

“That has always been my burden to bear,” the Goblin King drawled, preening slightly as you tried not to roll your eyes.

Jareth was the king. If you were to be technical about it, he was your king. He had left you alive when he didn’t need to. Even more than that, the nature of the job he had given you meant you had certain powers. The Goblin King did not bestow those lightly. You felt like you owed him at least basic respect, if not anything more subservient.

Besides, Jareth had enough people - well, goblins - trying to respond to his every need. You liked to think that he enjoyed the bits of personality you were willing to share with him.

Rather than voice any of that aloud, you gave a shallow nod. "But you summoned me for a purpose. What do you need?"

With the amusement still dancing across his fine features, Jareth tilted his head at you. "The work I gave you has never taken so long. I wanted an update on your progress."

"My…" For the first time since you had found yourself in this strange land, you were thrown off by Jareth. He had never given any deadlines for your work, never ordered you to be done by a specific time. In fact, the opposite had been true. On the rare occasions that you worried about how long something took, Jareth was the first to remind you that he - and, by extension, you - had all the time that would ever exist.

You managed to scrape together a semblance of competence. "An update. Yes. I can- That is, the work you gave me is complete. I distributed the books, set up special showings of the film, and orchestrated the release of some photographs."

"All of that has been done?" Jareth checked. When you nodded, he gave you a stern look. "Then why did you not return to me immediately?"

As if on cue, something low in your stomach gave a heaving, disgruntled throb. You had never been overly desire-driven when you were fully human, and you blamed that for your current awkwardness - sex had never been common enough for you to grow blunt about your need for it. But you still had that need, and your body’s complaints were almost enough to drown out the weight of Jareth’s stare. Almost.

“I was in the middle of a different task,” you replied, trying to make it sound as bland as possible. Jareth’s attention span was stronger than that of his subjects, but he still made a concerted effort to avoid boring subjects. “Nothing of importance.”

Jareth studied his hands. “No, I imagine there is not much of importance in a dirty tavern.”

You froze. Not that you had been moving very much before, but every muscle locked down in response to the pointed revelation that Jareth could and did know where you went when you were Aboveground. “I-”

“You?” Jareth repeated mockingly. “Yes, you. You allowed a human to ply you with alcohol, then to paw at you. Though I suspect, given the tone of your conversation, that is far more innocent than what you would have done if I had not summoned you back here.”

“But how-”

Your question cut off abruptly when Jareth made a noise of impatience, tapping his cheekbone twice, just below his human eye.

“You watch me?” you demanded, surprise turning swiftly to anger and embarrassment. “Why?”

Jareth treated the question as literal rather than rhetorical, musing for a moment before he answered. “At first, to see if you intended to flee. It would not have worked, but it is always amusing to see humans try. Then, to be certain that you were performing your tasks to my standards. And finally…” The smile on Jareth’s face was indolent, with more than a hint of mischief. “Simply because I can.”

Glaring at an omnipotent fae king was probably not the wisest thing you could do, but your fury made you bold. “And have you watched me during my personal time before?”

Jareth let his head loll toward you for the best view of his self-satisfaction. “Yes.”

With a barely stifled noise of outrage, you spun with every intention of storming out of the room. Unfortunately for you, the powers Jareth had allotted you were nothing compared to his own. Without a sound or a motion from him, Jareth ordered the heavy doors to swing closed and there was nothing you could do to force them open once more.

“I do not see why you are so offended,” Jareth told you, conversational tone coming from nearer than his throne. “I am well aware that humans have needs.”

“Then why interrupt me…” Your hissed demand had caught in your throat when you turned to find Jareth much closer than anticipated. The Goblin King twisted his head slightly to one side, matching the smirk that twisted his lips. You cleared your throat. “Why interrupt me when you know I’m occupied? Like you said, I have needs. It doesn’t help anyone if I’m too busy to meet them.”

“You are missing the most obvious solution,” Jareth informed you, spreading his hands to either side. “I can help meet those needs.”

“You?” you repeated skeptically.

Jareth’s arms dropped and he looked almost offended. “And why not me?”

It may have been a rhetorical question, but you gave it as much thought as he had to your earlier question about his reasoning. “Well, you don’t seem like you would be interested. You don’t usually do things unless you have something to gain.”

“Have I not struck you as altruistic?” he asked. You shook your head, opting for honesty above tact. “Good. You are right, I don’t perform favors out of something as naïve as kindness. I have much to gain from this offer.”

“Like what?” you asked. The suspicion in your voice was so thick as to be almost comical, but Jareth didn’t seem offended.

“Pleasure,” he answered simply. “Do you want to meet your needs now? Or will you wait until the next time you have a spare moment to be disappointed by some human in a bar?”

You thought about waiting, you really did. Jareth was cocky enough without giving him access to something as personal as your pleasure. But you were growing close to desperation. That could make you more likely to be careless in Aboveground, something you weren’t willing to risk.

“You’re right,” you said. “It is the most obvious solution.”

The only thing that saved you from the self-congratulatory smile that slid across Jareth’s face was the fact that you erased it with your lips a moment later.

The Goblin King’s teeth were sharp. It had been one of the first things you noticed when you met him so long ago, but you were still a little shocked to be confronted by that sharpness when you slipped your tongue between his lips.

Jareth’s surprise rivaled your own, though for different reasons. For half a moment, he seemed taken aback by your ardor, but he recovered and took control of the kiss before you could get used to the taste of him. He was like the sweetest wine, and you were instantly addicted.

A hand latched around your jaw kept your head positioned just where Jareth wanted it, and he swept through you like a hurricane. It was all you could do to keep up with him, but you were the first one to succumb to wandering hands.

His clothes were always so decadent, and you had been waiting a long time to see if they felt as lovely as they looked. You were delighted to say that they did - textures sliding and dancing beneath your fingertips - but you were more focused on what you felt under those clothes.

The heat of Jareth’s skin was immense even through his clothing, enough to pull an answering sensation of heat from you. Every item of clothing you removed from him ratcheted the temperature further up until you felt like there was fire under your skin.

Halfway through removing Jareth’s ostentatious cape, you pulled away to deposit it safely on his throne. It wouldn’t do to have it trampled by goblins or, worse, land in chicken excrement.

Jareth muttered complaints for every moment you were away from him, pulling you impatiently closer the moment you were in arm’s reach. “I don’t know why you did that. I intend for that throne to be our next destination.”

You cast an assessing glance toward the door. It looked heavily barred, and you hadn’t been able to budge it, but there was a distinct possibility… “Fine with me, as long as you’re sure we won’t be interrupted. I don’t want to toss any of your subjects from the window of your throne room.”

“The door is locked,” he assured you, ducking his head to press wet kisses down your neck before blowing gently across his handiwork.

With a shiver at the abrupt shift in temperature, you nodded. “And no goblin has ever managed to circumvent a locked door before.”

Jareth paused, clearly intent on undoing your shirt, but gave a marvelously exasperated groan. “Fine.”

Your triumph was cut off by an abrupt shriek as Jareth pulled you into his arms so strongly that your feet left the floor. “Jareth! What are you doing?”

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this, pet,” he replied, pouting. “I’m not wasting any more time.”

And then he was striding toward a section of the throne room that looked distinctly… soft around the edges, and you recognized it as a portal. All of that was secondary, of course, to the ever-present awareness of being held in Jareth’s arms.

As someone with a proud set of curves, you could count on one hand the number of times you’d been lifted by a lover. That was a shame, since being carried was something of a weakness for you, especially when you weren’t worried about being dropped. And nothing in Jareth’s expression or posture warned that he was about to run out of strength.

You were still basking in the sensation as Jareth stepped through the portal and into a room that was nearly as large as the throne room. The major differences were that there was no pit and that the place of the throne was occupied by the largest bed you had ever seen.

A smile stretched across your face as Jareth set you down on that large bed, and he frowned at you. “What is amusing you?”

“This bed is enormous,” you explained. “Yet I’ve never seen you with anyone.”

“I’ve had a partner here on numerous occasions,” he told you haughtily. “Perhaps you have not seen them because you are so busy finding partners among the humans.”

“Perhaps,” you agreed readily enough. “Or perhaps it has been such a long time that your last partner and I missed each other.”

“That…” Jareth’s lips pursed, “...is possible.”

You didn’t necessarily remember closing your eyes while you laughed at that, but you must have. When you opened them once more, Jareth was looming over you. “Pleased as I am to provide amusement, there are other noises I would rather pull from you.”

Your breath caught at the rough admission. Jareth’s face descended before you could scrape up a response, and then you were too concerned with meeting the intoxicating rhythm of his mouth against yours.

The next thing you knew, you were resting more securely on the bed with Jareth holding himself above you. Both of you were fully naked and you had no idea how you had gotten that way. Most likely, he had used his magic to remove your clothing, but it was possible that you had been too thoroughly distracted by his kisses to worry about something as minor as what his hands were doing.

In any case, you were reveling in the way your hands could roam over him without encountering any barriers. Jareth’s body was pale, muscles dancing subtly under his skin. That paleness was marked with occasional scars - silvery marks that spoke of injuries from long ago. You couldn’t see much of him below the mid-torso since he was pressed so tightly to you, but you could feel the delicious length of him, hot and hard against your thigh.

When Jareth finally pulled away, he only went far enough to make eye contact without either of you crossing your eyes. “I want to taste you. Is that acceptable to you?”

“You’re the king,” you reminded him with a sardonic smile.

Jareth’s jaw flexed and his mismatched eyes narrowed. “Precisely. Which is why I expect an honest answer when I ask a question. Do you want this?”

“Yes.” The confirmation was a little breathless, but Jareth’s reply had been unexpected for someone who placed such an emphasis on retaining control. “Yes, I do.”

“Good,” he told you with a nod.

His patronizing tone might have set your teeth on edge, but Jareth accompanied it with a praising stroke down the length of your body. His fingertips trailed fire from your collarbone, over one breast, across the swell of your stomach, and down to the part of you that was aching for him. At the same time, he slid down until his face was even with your hips and you could hardly keep still with the anticipation filling you.

With your knees already parted around him, Jareth had only to wedge his shoulders between your thighs to gain full access to your core. The sudden exposure to the air of the room sent a chill through the parts of you that were burning the hottest, but the coolness only heightened the sensations.

Jareth didn’t give you any warning, any time to brace. Instead, he ducked his head suddenly, swiping the flat of his tongue from the bottom of your slit to the very top. He paused for a moment while you made a sound of startled pleasure, his lips quirking.

“Delicious,” he told you. “I wonder if you’re even sweeter inside?”

Before you could offer any reply, Jareth apparently decided to see for himself. One of your legs was tossed over his shoulder while he pinned the other to the bed. That was the only thing that kept you from trying to strangle him with your thighs when he began to torment you in earnest.

Those plush lips and wicked tongue explored every part of you, wringing pleasure from you like it was something precious he could save for later.

An elegant finger pushed into your core, pressing into the heat and slickness of you without a bit of difficulty. Your muscles spasmed so dramatically that it forced you to sit up - or, more accurate, to try. Jareth’s arm across your hips kept you pinned to the bed, leaving you to writhe, squeeze your legs around him, and cry out your pleasure loud enough for the entire castle to hear. The hand pressing you into the softness of the mattress strummed fingers across your hip.

With an expression that felt wild with pleasure, you stared down between your own thighs and clenched even harder around that finger. Your eyes had met Jareth’s mismatched gaze where it peeked over the roundness of your tummy. Mischief glimmered on what you could see of his face, and there was a clear sense of enjoyment in his bearing.

That eye contact sent an electric thrill through you, and you were gone. Your head kicked back against the pillow and you seemed to leave your body for an eternity, shattering into infinite pieces under the onslaught of pleasure Jareth was using to assault you.You may have made a noise - probably had, if you were judging from your experience so far - but you couldn’t hear it over the way your ears rang with the sound of your mind shattering.

When you finally settled back into your body again, it felt too small to possibly contain everything you had felt. Jareth was applying long, luxurious licks to your core, sweeping over the entirety of your slit and it was all you could do to push him away.

Jareth gave you a moment to collect your breath, but soon enough, he was peering down at you with no small amount of pride on his strange face. “Will you recover?”

You were a bit embarrassed by the strength of your reaction to him, but you managed a smile and a nod. “Guess I needed that more than I thought. It’s been a while.”

The fae tilted his head to the side, a hint of a smile showing the white points of his teeth. “My dear, do you honestly believe I have lived so long without learning to draw pleasure from someone? Your state of arousal has little to do with it.”

The post-orgasmic glow kept you from mustering the scoff that deserved. After delivering a sad little huff, you told him, “Humble as ever, Goblin King.”

“I would so hate to leave you with an inaccurate idea of my skill,” Jareth drawled. “I would be happy to provide further proof at your earliest convenience.”

Your breath caught in your throat, leading to an embarrassing cough. On the positive side, that cough gave you a moment to internally puzzle through that. Was Jareth volunteering to do this again sometime? He was technically your boss and your king, and thus a romantic connection you had never experienced before, but you couldn’t honestly say you wouldn’t be with him again. Even ignoring the pleasure - difficult as that was - you… really wouldn’t mind repeating this experience.

“Uh, okay,” you said elegantly.

Jareth simply smiled at you, but something about his intent gaze warned that he understood your thoughts as clearly as he did his own. Still, all he said aloud was, “Did that satisfy you, pet? Or would you perhaps like to continue?”

Before you could fight it, your gaze dropped to the apex of his thighs. He was visibly hard and ready for you, his body betraying an eagerness that was totally hidden in his expression. Despite his state of arousal, Jareth was still giving you the option to be done with him. As he was known for his lack of tact, you recognized and appreciated the effort Jareth was putting into making you comfortable.

And what better way was there to show your appreciation than to offer some relief?

“I think I might need a little more,” you told him, playing coy. You even added a demure drop of your gaze, though you could see him through your lashes.

That was how you watched when Jareth’s expression sharpened, though his voice stayed careless. “I don’t believe in offering partial respite. I shall see this task through until it is complete.”

The smile that fought to spread across your face was only stifled by the way Jareth caught at your ankle and pulled you further down the bed. He surged upward at the same time until you were firmly beneath him. The fae dotted your face, jaw, and neck with kisses as he settled heavily on top of you. Your legs parted automatically to wrap around his waist and draw him closer, but you were taken aback when the length of him pressed against your still-sensitive core.

You were still surfing the wave of heightened sensation when you felt the tip of Jareth’s length notch into your opening.

Jareth’s fingers trailed from your forehead down to your jaw, turning your head until he could peer into your face. “Are you ready for me, pet?”

“Yes,” you agreed eagerly. “Please…”

“Don’t beg, sweet thing,” he instructed. “You never need to beg for me.”

And then he was driving into you - robbing you of any ability to process that.

Jareth had seemed to have an average build below the waist, as you had expected from his elegant physique and slender limbs. Still, he felt earth-shattering as he eased inside of you, enough to take your breath away even considering how wet you were with the remains of your earlier orgasm.

You were utterly still as he pressed in, locked in place by the amount of concentration you had fixed on the feeling of him. But the first time he withdrew from the depths of you, every part of you writhed beneath him. Your hands grasped, your toes curled, your head tilted in an attempt to ease the groan that fought for release from your throat.

Jareth swallowed that groan, dipping down easily to sweep through your mouth just as thoroughly as he had the first time. He plundered you greedily, feeding on the sounds you made for him as his hips danced closer and away, closer and away.

Infuriatingly, he kept you - and himself - poised on the edge of orgasm for an eternity, slowing whenever either of you came too close to the precipice. Jareth chased pleasure eagerly, though, tormenting you with fingers and lips to push you higher without allowing you the relief of release.

“Jareth, please,” you begged as his hips slowed once more.

He arched a brow at you. “Yes, pet? What do you need?”

“I-” You gave a hoarse gasp as a deliberate twist of his hips left the length of him brushing against your g-spot. It was followed by a noise of frustration when his pace slowed to a fraction of what it had been. “Please, I need to come.”

His smile was so sudden that it looked almost fierce. “My dear, why did you not tell me earlier?”

A retort sprang to your lips, but it died there as he shifted infinitesimally inside of you. That minor change had devastating effects on the angle of his thrusts inside of you, which picked up speed until it was all you could do not to drown in him.

Your body tightened around his as it had done so many times before, but he didn’t slow this time. Instead, his lips caught yours as his thumb strummed your clit.

That kiss was only broken when your orgasm hit you like a train, kicking your head back and dropping your mouth open so you could cry out from the incredible intensity of the pleasure that filled you. Your limbs curled around Jareth, constricting to keep him pressed against you as tightly as possible.

On his side of things, Jareth didn’t seem inclined to fight his imprisonment. His hips pistoned between your trembling thighs, burying himself in you over and over until - finally - his rhythm faltered.

Those sharp teeth were bared in a snarl as he pushed himself as deeply as he could get. The warmth of his release flooded you.

When the frantic pulses of his hips slowed, Jareth let himself drop on top of you. His weight was on you for a fraction of a second before he twisted to pull you on top of him instead. Since he was still buried in your core, the motion left you in the grip of an aftershock, but you recovered enough to move off of him.

Jareth’s eyes were closed, but his hands lashed out to keep you from moving as soon as you started to. “I don’t know where you think you’re going, pet, but you are mistaken.”

“I’m just rolling off of you, Jareth,” you told him, exasperated. “If I crush you, it’ll be regicide and I can’t imagine a goblin trial is pleasant.”

“It isn’t,” he agreed, eyes still closed. “But mostly because they show an inability to focus on a single issue for more than seconds at a time. And as for being crushed by you… Not only is it an impossibility, but it sounds rather pleasant.”

“Jareth…” you sighed.

That made him open his mismatched eyes and you were startled to see the changes in them. The blue-green of his human eye was expanding both toward the pupil and over the white sclera. The pupil-less darkness of his fae eye was doing the same, slowly working out until the entire orb of his eye was dark.

When Jareth finally spoke, it was with a smile that showed his sharp teeth. “Did you know there is a difference in the way you say my name now?”

You paused, scanning over his face for a moment before you asked, “And what does that mean?”

Jareth didn’t immediately answer you, but his smile didn’t fade during the stretch of quiet. At long last, he said, “It means that things have changed between us. It means that I encourage you to seek to satisfy your needs in my bed. And it means that I chose the perfect person to serve as my emissary in the human world.”

That was significantly less worrisome than what you thought he would say. In fact, it was even… sweet. “I certainly never thought I would end up here, but I can’t say that I regret it.”

“Faint praise,” Jareth said dryly. “But praise nonetheless. We shall see whether we can further improve your outlook on your place in my kingdom.”

“I look forward to that,” you admitted, relaxing slightly into him.

Jareth’s arms tightened around you, drawing you even closer. “As do I.”

---

Author's Note - Thanks for reading! I'm not officially accepting requests, but someone sent this one in and it caught my interest enough to help me break through some writer's block.

Happy Halloween!

I don't offer a taglist for spicy fics, but you can find other works on my masterlist.

#labyrinth #labyrinth 1986 #jareth #jareth the goblin king #reader insert #reader insert fic #reader insert fanfiction #jareth x reader #jareth x fem!reader #jareth x you #lemon #spicy #minors dni #not suitable for minors #ink's asks #ink's fics

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akashigadabi · 11 months

Text

C Is For Cockwarming

Not me creating an entire kink alphabet then writing out prompts for each letter…

Pairing: Yandere All For One x Consenting Reader

Summary: All For One wants to try cockwarming and you’re more than happy to oblige. The thing is, he miscalculated how well he can handle it, which is not well at all.

Word Count: 1233

Genre: Romance, Smut, Prompt Fic

Rating: E

Warnings: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Consensual Sex, Rough Sex, Possessive Sex, Possessive Behavior, Feral Behavior, Sexual Experimentation, Soft Yandere, Various Kinks (other than Cockwarming, including Biting, Scratching, Dacryphilia, Dirty Talk, Creampie, Size Kink, Size Difference, Teasing, Ignoring, Begging, Groping, Loss of Control and Desk Sex)

Other: Reader has a quirk. Reader is written so Reader is gender neutral as far as gender/gender identity and romantic or sexual orientation.

Ao3.

Please note that the gif below was selected cause AFO looks hot there and not cause of any direct relation between what he’s doing and what’s written.

All For One’s labored breathing picks up, his thigh muscles tensing underneath you. You flip a page in your book, reaching the end of the chapter. About ten minutes have passed, and you can tell he’s struggling to maintain composure. Perhaps more amusing is his struggle to refrain from acting on his urges. You get the feeling he would like nothing more than to buck upward and start thrusting into you, but he remains motionless beneath you.

His cock twitches inside of you, and you clench around him in response but otherwise don’t move. He’s doing remarkably well, especially for his first time doing this. You think it takes all his control to restrain himself, to keep his muscles locked into place instead of bending you over his desk. A low whine escapes from his lips, and he tilts his head down and presses his forehead into the crown of your head, burying his face into your hair. Those large hands of his rest innocently against your hips, though his fingers clench and unclench.

You feel his desperation building, but you don’t indulge him. Not yet, anyway. You want to see how long he can last like this. He’s the one who wanted to try cockwarming, but despite his usual patience, he’s the one cracking first. Small tremors run through his body, suppressed motion with nowhere else to go. You wonder how much he can handle, so you shift your weight forward to take a sip from your wine glass. The whimper that comes from him sends arousal coursing through you, but outwardly you don’t react. Where would the fun be in that? Half of the pleasure that comes from this is seeing how desperate he gets for you.

How much longer can he continue without giving in and asking to fuck you? Surely it’ll be any minute now. His fingernails have started to leave little crescent shaped indents in your flesh despite his best efforts. His fingertips themselves have started to apply more pressure, dimpling your skin hard enough to start bruising. If he tenses any more than he has already, he might pull a muscle. So of course you tease him again, because he wanted this, didn’t he? He asked for this, so you oblige.

The moan that slips unbidden from his lips when you stretch tells you how close he is to slipping. You go back to reading, leaning back into his chest. It makes him tremble, then a shuddering breath tickles your neck. Fidgeting hands break away from your hips, skimming over your body. Still, since that’s all he does, it doesn’t count yet. The second he begs or pleads, or the moment his hips roll, however, do count.

Another two minutes pass before you sense a change in demeanor. All For One has kept his side of the bond closed, too, so you two can’t influence each other’s reactions or behavior through it until after one of you relents, but now it opens, flooding with such burning desire that you almost drop your book. Instead, you mark your place and place it onto the desk in front of you with the calm of someone taking afternoon tea. Even then, you wait for him to speak, since he needs to ask.

When he does just that a moment later, he sounds like a complete mess. His voice emerges strained, not possessing its usual silky quality. This has wrecked him, pushed him toward the brink of madness. His words tremble with as much desperation as his chest did a few minutes earlier. Lips brush against your ear, then comes the damning confession.

“Treasure-chan, please, I can’t go on like this.”

Your lips curl into an amused smile. You know. Should you force him to wait another ten minutes, you might bring him to tears, but you’re not that cruel. Teasing should only go so far.

“Is this your way of asking to fuck me?”

“Please, my love,” All For One begs, no longer caring about staying completely still now as he squirms, though he still doesn’t thrust. “It hurts. I need you. I feel like I’ll go crazy if I can’t have you. Please.”

“Then have me.”

All For One needs no further prompting. He explodes into motion, laying you on his desk so he can thrust into you with brutal strokes. One hand gropes unabashedly at your tits while the other holds you in place. There’s no love-making here, only fucking in every sense of the word. The Demon King sets a relentless pace that has you seeing stars, desperate to find relief. To your surprise, a few tears plop onto your back, dripping down his chin as he leans over you to trail fervent kisses along your neck. Savage, unhinged energy suffuses the bond and permeates the air. A growl rumbles in All For One’s chest, the vibrations buzzing against your skin. The coil tightening in your gut snaps abruptly, sending cascading waves of intense pleasure flooding through you.

“Sweet little concubus,” All For One croons. “You were made for this, weren’t you? Made just for me. Mine mine mine.”

Teeth clamp onto your shoulder and nails claw into your hip, then with a feral snarl he shatters, hot seed spurting into you through terrifying full-body spasms. It triggers another orgasm for you, feeling him come undone so beautifully. He has to clutch onto you to remain standing, his muscles useless for an infinitesimal amount of time. Helpless, he clings to your back as he empties into you, more tears dripping onto your skin. Deep, gasping breaths are all he can manage. There’s a pause when he pulls out as he admires his handiwork, shaking fingers spreading your entrance open from either side so he can see the evidence of his climax where it currently resides within you, but he doesn’t have long to drink in the sight. His legs can’t yet hold his weight again, so he loses his balance. Stumbling backward, he collapses into the chair he previously occupied, taking you with him as his arms are still wrapped around you. With no resistance against gravity, his cum pours out of your puffy pink hole, staining both your thighs and his with spilled seed. His muscles still jump from the aftershocks as he leans back, weak and limp from the intensity of his orgasm.

“I think,” you muse as he just continues to splay out like a starfish behind you, hands curled around your waist again to keep your body pressed to his, “that we can count this as a success, don’t you?”

“You little gremlin,” All For One wheezes in a dazed tone, then, regaining some of his wits, he adds breathlessly, “Yes, I suppose we should count this as a success.”

A mischievous, devious grin splits your face, unseen by him but certainly felt in spirit judging by the way he shudders in anticipation. Yes, a success indeed. You’ll definitely be doing this again. All For One could do with being rendered speechless and empty-headed a bit more often. Besides, it’s good for the soul to get so fucked out you can’t speak every once in a while, and he deserves to have that experience more often as a reward for all his hard work.

After all, is it really living if you haven’t come so hard you almost pass out at least once?

#soft yandere #yandere afo #yandere bnha #yandere all for one #yandere x reader #all for one x reader #yandere all for one x reader #afo x you #afo x reader #all for one x you #lov x reader #yandere afo x reader #yandere bnha x reader #yandere x willing reader #bnha x reader #gender neutral reader #lemon #spicy content #minors do not interact

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