Itâs been days. No texts, no stupid voice notes of him rambling about his day, no random âyou eat yet?â messages as soon as you got off work like clockwork. This isnât Valko. Your puppy is glued to his phone when it comes to you. So after one too many hours of anxious pacing, you grab the spare key he gave you months ago (âjust in case, sweetheartâ) and storm over to his place.
Your heart is hammering the whole way. Worst case scenarios flash through your head, him passed out, bleeding, hurt over something he didnât tell you about. Youâd take that.
But the second you push the door open, the air hits you like whiplash.
Stuffy. Thick. Heavy with something musky, sweet, and feral that makes your stomach flip. Thatâs when you hear it, muffled, desperate panting, broken groans, the faint creak of a bedframe.
Your brain short circuits. You donât think. Before you have time to mentally catch up, you just move, storming straight to his massive bedroom and shoving the door open.
And holy fuck.
Valko is sprawled across his bed, completely naked, skin glistening with sweat. His ears are fully out, twitching wildly. His tail thumps hard against the sheets. Heâs fisting his cock with frantic, sloppy strokes, thatâs when you notice; itâs huge, thick, flushed dark and leaking all over his abs. His chiseled chest heaves, abs flexing with every desperate roll of his hips. Those thick thighs are trembling. And when your eyes finally drag up to his face⌠his eyes are glazed over, cheeks flushed crimson, and there are actual tears clinging to his lashes.
He looks wrecked
Youâre frozen in the doorway, mouth hanging open unable to look away from the obscene sight. The way his big hand struggles to even wrap fully around himself. The way his hips keep bucking up like he canât stop. The wet, filthy sounds filling the room.
Before you can even process it, his movements stutter to a halt.
Wide, frantic golden eyes snap to yours. His ears shoot straight up. For a second he just stares at you, chest still heaving, cock twitching hard in his grip like it has a mind of its own.
Then something clicks behind that hazy gaze.
ââŚYouâre here,â he rasps, voice wrecked and deeper than youâve ever heard it. A broken groan slips out as something seems to overwhelm him, making his hips jerk involuntarily into his fist again. âFuck- you⌠you shouldnât see me like this-â
Don't you want to spread your legs open? With your face pressed into the mattress?
Let me eat you out until your hole is all red and puffy and sensitive...
Have you twitching and leaking, begging for my tongue on your throbbing clit
But I just keep sucking at your rim, making it wet with my spit, holding you down so you can't rock back into my face
Pulling out all those desperate groans from your mouth and chuckling against your hole, holding your legs open so you can't get friction and just have to whine and squirm in place.
⎠flins headcannons because i'm obsessed with this manâ no drabble because i ran out of ideas currentlyâ gn!reader â slight luna III spoilers!â ignore the grammatical mistakes if there's any, i didn't proofread this
â first of all, i refuse to believe there is a species of flins out there that won't kiss you goodbye on your knuckles. it's like a universal thing by now to the flins nation (at least as far as i've observed) that it's hard to imagine flins not kissing your knuckles/hand out of habit (he is very chivalrous you see he will be your doormat if you accidentally step on a mud. of course it's not like you'd ever ask him to be your doormat.. that was mere exaggeration on my side..)
â flins canonically is a good artist based on the most recent nod krai aq, so i like to imagine that when he's not doing his bone puzzles or not sorting his gemstones in their boxes, he likes to sketch some things in his mind out -- because hey, really what is easier than just grabbing a piece of paper and doodle your thoughts out a little? unless he's the kind of artist that mulls over every line drawn.. -- and sometimes, the ratnik found a small sketch of you drawn on the surface of his paper without even meaning to.
it's not as if flins has never drawn you before! he had even asked if he could draw you a little some other time a while ago. the difference? this time he didn't even mean to draw you! you're just a reoccuring thought in his mind that he subconsciously just doodled you by muscle memory. it makes him feel a little embarrassed and he would subtly hide those unintentional doodles of you whenever you visit.
â while i am appealed by gentleman flins who takes the lead for most of the time, i am also frankly very charmed by the thought of kiiind of a loser flins. flins in the sense that he is -- if not just as, for the inexperienced readers -- inexperienced in handling an intimate relationship with you. sure, flins is socially (very) intelligent, but he contradicts himself in this matter because the thought of being near you even while being in a relationship still makes the fae nervous. flins doesn't have to juggle all the cogs in his mind anymore so the social situation is on his side when he's around you and that gives him the heeby jeebies in a flowery way.
â flins also gives you gifts, in his own ways. he will separate some bones in his collection, some for his puzzle, and the rest that he will arrange into a bone flower for you. he would also gift you gemstones!! gemstones that remind him of you, be it something as superficial as the color or the tale the gemstone offers. it's around this time that you have only realized how eerily similar he is to a raven when he's gifting you his shinies..
â you can take this one as suggestive or not, but flins definitely praises you. like, a whole ton lot. it's not even just about being kinky and everything, this man will praise every single thing you do like you just solved world hunger. basically your #1 glazer.
"my dear, you look very exquisite today. the angels must've worked on you the hardest. you did such a good job today" and you could literally do something as simple as drinking water.
â 100% head over heels for you once you caught his eyes. will laugh at every one of your jokes regardless of how "unfunny" they are according to Jahoda. will only smile and cock his brows when you do something stupid in front of him. will daydream about you and kick his feet while smiling dreamily at this point -- you can see tiny hearts floating above his head if you squint.
â tear kisser. flins definitely kisses your tears away while cradling your face like your face is made out of the most fragile porcelain out there. it doesn't matter how "ugly" of a crier you are, you could downright sob and roll on the floor and he will still treat you like the most precious treasure in the world. "ugly crier? you jest, my love, there's no such thing. a mortal's 'ugliness' when they weep is most beautiful."
â would let you hold and take care of his lantern when he's exhausted. give his lantern a little polish, give it good oil, and keep it clean. you'll have a very clingy flins the next day holding onto you from behind when you're standing behind the kitchen counter for breakfast. he just loves you a lot.
â synopsis.á in which your bestfriend, Leo teaches you how to properly fuck (and make you his for once and all).
â warning.á fem! reader, switch! leo, CORRUPTION, first time, talking you through it, switch! reader, eventual MESSY smut, praising, degrading, hair pulling, swearing and profanities, car smash, riding, porn with plot, bestfriends to lovers, creampie, the condom broke, pulling out, inappropriate use of fire, temperature play, dacryphilia, oral (m receiving), dumbification, overstimulation, p in a v, past! leo/calypso, brief smash of leo with random person, leo's also drunk while doing it so, chem! side-major reader, yearning, pining, a sprinkle of angst, all of them are aged up!
â word count.á 16k (oopsie doosie đ)
â a.n.á requested by anon! U and ur genius mind... by far the nastiest smut ive written đ¤ and please tell me if I have miscorrections for the spanish sentences!
Leo Valdez has never had sex before.
Sure, he's extremely charming and he just can't help it when people naturally flaunt to him like an overexcited birds (they do not, don't believe him). But all those times he spent blushing and throwing spanish fluffy innuendos that he's always been hopeful they can't translate itâbecause he usually compares them to one of his favorite science equations or his inventionsânever treated him very well with his silly puppy crushes.
They always end up just brushing him off like he's not even comparable. And to be fair, he is not comparable to any of them.
Like this one time, during a meeting when the campers are talking about the connections of Percy Jackson's disappearance, someone with sweet written lips conjures up the most brilliant tactic right at the table. Every word of her mouth sounds like a siren's songâeven when she's talking about the monster's threat and everything sorrowâall Leo hears is how much he wished that voice would be directed to him. To greet him. To acknowledge him.
She's completely out of his league.
But when has that ever stopped him?
So Leo starts slow, just a quick wit against her suggestion every time she's involved in a meeting. Just a quick meet up to talk about quest strategies and his position in the prophecy. Serious talks always leads to lighthearted ones. That's how he found out you and him are not so different.
Because one time during a meeting at the impending final, Leo spouts a brilliant (horrible) one liners when they're in the brink of getting finished by Gaea, she has the audacity to scrunch her nose, crinkle her brows, and try the hardest not to burst a sharp laughter. No way she's gonna ruin the atmosphere and get scolded by Jason Grace for laughing. And definitely not for Leo Valdez's jokes out of all reason.
Sure, the thing about the absurdity of their impending doom and the fact that they're only teenagers forced into fighting a god's war is funny.
So guess what, two years later?
That girl and him are now best friends. Practically inseperable, twins at birth (preferably conjoined), that is proven more when Festus constantly takes her side more than he does with Leo. The sheer audacity! For stealing his first homeboy, for stealing his hoodies, for stealing his handmade tacos whenever he looks away for one second, for stealing entire shower utensils (so he needs to make two birria tacos in exchange to share shampoo with Jake Mason), for being you.
You, who's his best friend. You, who's sitting in front of the operation table not far from where he's working. You, who's currently humming a songâand Wicked Game by Chris Isaak out of all songs. And you, who does all your small adorable habits, while his table are filled with notebooks of your school subjects and highlighters with colors Leo can't even count one by one.
He's being banished in his own bunker. Being mistreated, more so. The wire between his fingers sparks up as if knowing his prolonged attention on you. His situation is not so different from yours. Shards of micro metals scatters on the rugged floor, collections of screws all used up beside him, and the sketch of a small wasp engraved on the paper in front of him. It may look normal from upfront, but you're dead wrong if you think his innovations are gonna be any normal.
"You know, just a heads up," he starts off with that familiar snark, handling the unconnected wires that flies tiny fireworks from the chemistry. "No one but me can open this bunker before in a hundred of years. No one but me can sit so pretty while singing off tune and tries to write a new chemistry theory and start an argument with a dead scientist."
Your head flings upwards from the trashes of equations, eyes widening a slight before you turn from your very precious notes about Niels Bohr's phenomenons. "Excuse me?" your nose scrunches, face knitted in that sour mood as you swing in your (his) chair to meet his sitting figure. "We can just take it right outside if you have a problem with me."
Leo groans a loud one, and he'd run a palm over his face right now if he's not wearing a glove full off mechanical fluids, "Oh, trust me," he shares the same sour face as yours, shooting a frown. "I'd happily take that chance if you ever decided to get the hell out of my working space, asshole." he pouts for a good measure.
At that statement, your mood is quick to turn as coffee is to sugar. "Hey! It's an obligation to share things with your very struggling friend!" your hand gestures rapidly to the amount of books on the table, to which he only replies with an exasperated whining. "And why not make a use of my friend's very useful hideaway because I cannot focus studying in my own cabin?"
"Didn't my friend just threaten to chase me all through the woods if I don't give her the operating table earlier?" he gasps a dramatic one, like a victorian lady that just found her handmaid is stealing her gowns. Hands clutched on his face, and his brown eyes wide in that manic energy of his.
"That's not a good comeâ"
"To which she decided to threaten me more after the whole shenanigan and suggest we should take it outside and fight each other to death?" the last word intensifies louder than the previous ones, his tongue clicking in that sing-song disapproval before manifesting in a lyrical song. "No eres tan inteligente como piensas, cariĂąo." and that aggravating, agitating smile of his? That produces the rainstorm over your head as you scoffs.
"Fine," your eyes roll, both in surrender and irritation. But it's not you if you don't match his streak of stubborness. So your arm raises, pen pointing at him while your eyes narrowsâlike a wizard trying to cast a spell at him. "But you're the one who gave me this chair anyway. So you don't get to play the victim, jerk."
"Oh, wow, look at that!" he raises the same arm as you, though he's pointing at you with a screw instead of a pen. "You just said your first words of common sense! Should we invite Chiron for this? Or oh!" he claps his hand in that ridiculous excitement that's reserved only on bullying you. "Should I ask Pollux to arrange a celebration? Maybe I should make fireworks that blows up in the sky and writes 'The first ever human to learn about common sense!'" a squeal escapes his mouth like over caffeinated squirrel, his eyes gleaming in pure cheer while his lips are tied into that big grin of doom.
With that statement too, the room falls in silence âburning in Leo's mocking grin and your fumed beet red cheeks. Right at that moment, you have the sudden urge to find Frank and strategize a way to embarrass him all out in public. Or find the Stoll Brothers and bribe them to prank the hell out of this jerky latino of a jerk.
"Sorry," you straighten up, still carrying the same defiance as you scoffed and turn in your seat. Back to Niels Bohr's cradle on spiking atom's theories up to your head. "I don't speak 'Asshole Language'." your tongue drips in upfront sassiness before you try to ignore him. Eyes on the prize, you remind yourself as you look over to the Chemistry's research on inorganic chemicals and other tricky topics.
You could feel Leo's gaze burning in to the back of your head, and you felt strange. Why isn't he spouting any sarcastic comments or jabs right now?
The rustle of the fan is more louder than any sentences could be uttered in this moment. You're far too engrossed in your writings anyway, that is until you hear a different kind of shuffle rustling behind you, footsteps that comes closer, and feel his finger poking on your cheekâsuccessfully making a dot of soot on the apple of your face.
Your eyes widen, a stark contrast to Leo's playful grin and wiggling brows, "Oh, that's itâ" you takes a sharp inhale of disbelief, head shaking just before you grab a particularly thin book and slam it to across his shoulder. That earned a yelp and stagger from him, backing off from your position before a sulk forms on his lipsâhands still rubbing against the sore spot.
"Rude." he narrows his eyes at you. "I wonder how anyone could keep up with your crazy handsâOW, OW! Damn it, okay, okay!" you sigh as you plop back down from pinching his sore spot. The chair creaks under your weight while you place the weapon (book) back to the table.
"You're awfully cranky today." not even five minutes later, your dear best friend just cannot sit his ass tight and not bother you for a moment. In fact, he starts circling you like you're a fine bomb just in the ticking of a minute. He whistles behind you, and you realize that it's the same song you just hummed earlier when you take your eyes off the chemic's books.
"You shouldn't waste all this beauty by getting angry." now, he actually had dragged a chair nearby so he can sit beside you. His face is close to your sided one, his warm breath hitting your left cheekbones as you try with all might to focus on how the hell the Highest Occupied Molecular Orbital operates in a graphic. Fun-fact, the soot on your right cheek hasn't been wiped off yet before he pokes his finger on the crease between your brows, "These wrinkles gonna make you look like my grumpy grandma than my sexy best friend." his tone goes lower, like this is actually a serious phenomenon worth of his tears and grief.
"Right fist or left fist?" you finally force yourself to turn you attention towards. To which he immediately perks up and curls his grin like a cheshire cat.
"What about lips?" Leo throws you a wink, pearly whites flashing with eagerness of your impending annoyance.
"... I'm calling Will." the message is already clear in your head, 'Take this evil guy with messy dark hair and the ugliest grin ever and please give him something strong so he could have a rest for one day.'
"I'm calling grandma." he retorts, already pulling out a hand mimicking a telephone while he puffs his cheeks.
"You don't have one."
"Oh yeah," he blinks in mock surprise. "Right, because she's sitting in front of me right now."
He nudges your shoulder.
You flick him off with your fingers.
The room falls in that silent once more, the kind that you're not sure of what he's gonna say or actâconsidering his spontaneous personality. The fan hums, and you'd thought he's burning holes into your face before you realize he's rather focused on your work.
That's when you became a hypocrite yourself and peek a gaze at him. Observing how his dark locks falls over his forehead, his brows furrowed in that cute little concentration, and mouth unconsciously pulled into a pout.
"I think I learned this when I ran into a monster at twelve and tried to connect its tail to an electrical whirring."
"Oh, all hail Leoâthe only living person in the world who learned the catalyst of organometallic at twelveâsurely, the gods must be proud." you can't help but roll your eyes and whine in frustration. It's sad and it's pathetic. But he really should stop burning off the wire when it's already stressed out.
"I'm just joking, princessa," this time, he raises a hand to rub the soot he left on your cheek. "I'm a genius, but I'm not a self centered prick." especially when you know everything about him, he wants to sayâbut he cannot exactly do that, right?
You sigh, catching his gaze that gleams with a small smile. His assurance are always infectious, and before you could know itâa curl forms its way on your lips. "You're literally the textbook definition of self centered."
"Really?" he narrows his gaze, "Is that what you think of me? After all the bloodshed, the team-ups, and you catching me in my worst state when we're in the middle of a war?"
"Fine," you slump your figure to the chair, particularly his chair. Leaning your head over his shoulder when you shifts a little. "I know you're not like that," a pause, then you pinches his cheek once more. "But you do make it look like that, always."
You could feel the boy respond your touch, an arm flying its way to wrap it around your torsoâbringing you closer to his natural warmth. "You know what you need?" he says, and you don't know if he's trying to steer the topic in a different direction or simply just wanting to tell you out of care.
"What do I need, genius?" you murmur, closing your eyes for a brief moment of recollection.
"Sex."
"Don't even bring that up right now." your tongue rolls out the syllables sooner than your mind could rethink it over. Though, you can't say you're not surprised. Sexual matters are basically a topic you guys hunched over at seven in the morning, and without even breaking composure or a stutter. Both of you are freshly nineteen, it's completely normal! It's just that...
He does not need to know that you never had one.
The first time Leo Valdez had ever experienced anything remotely close to having sex is when he's giving a girl a blowjob.
It was strong at night, the drinks were bubbling in the air of the room, and the suspense of excitement is just too big for him to ignore it. He initially came to this bar, just so he could drown out any memories of Calypso's sweet nothings and then her eventual sharp endings. Anything to get his mind off the goddess he just spent a whole tons of work on swearing by the Styx, get her the hell out of that island, and caring the hell out of her.
He understands that maybe she just wants something new, something that isn't broken like all the half finished rocks on her island. She wants something complete, something that can actually work. Something not sparking with uncontrollable chaos and unpredictability. Something grounding.
Leo is far from any of that description.
So yes, he's visiting a bar in New York, ordered a strong fire whiskey with his usual forced flirtation, and got drunk at Air Supply's playlist rolling behind the stereoâwhile other people are swaying their drinks and cry to the song. Leo would've joined, if he downed three glass of the whiskey in a span a minute for each time he chugged the drink.
But he downed six drinks, so here he is; holding up a single of plush thigh over his shoulder, running his palm over the skin as the girl above him whined in muffled mewls. As you can probably guess, yesâhe and the cutie bartender that served him before is currently 101% high right now. Her lower back is against the rim of the sink, hand over her mouth to lessen her noises, and *NSYNC playing on the dance floor outside of the bathroom. The band can be suitable, but not when it's playing This I Promise You while he's literally kneeled on the cold tiles.
The slope of his nose brushes against her puffy clit, but Leo's too drunk and out of his mind to think of the girl's pleasure right now. It's a quick fuck, and he hopes he's doing well for a first timer.
A ring, from Star Wars's main theme rolls out just in time when *NSYNC's title shifts to a song called Gone.
That combined interruption, more specifically on his phone ring crashes over them both like waves of cold water over their very much messy brain. Leo ignores it at first, instead working much harder on her weakening hole as she tugs on his curlsâa startled moan out of her mouth.
The phone rings and vibrates once again in his pocket.
"Fuck," he rasps out, pulling away with a lewd slick from both his spit and her fluids. Leo is dazed, and his brain seems to wreck even more when he grabs his phone and holy light stabs his face. He forgot to lower the brightness earlier, he curses. But he blinks for a few moment, scrunching his brows to make a good read for the reminder on the lock screen.
It's you.
"operation ASAP, need ur help right now." 23.03
"hermann kolbe is terrorizing me under my bed, so be a knight and save me from chemistry horrors?" 23.04
... How can Leo say no to that?
He clears his throat, tongue throttling with its own as he staggers his words. "S-Sorryâfor breaking the mood." the sharp blade of the whiskey earlier still hits his brain repeatedly. But right now, he's not acting on logic. He's acting on heart, on familiarity, on comfort.
He rises on his feet, not even bothering to slip the phone back to its pocket while he simultaneously grabs his forgotten leather jacket by the next sink and trashes it around his torso. "I have to go. She just told me last second that she needs company or else she'll have nightmaresâ" he doesn't know why he's rambling to tell her the reason, she's just a stranger to him anyway. But Leo knows basic decency, and she should at least know the why to the what.
Even if it's a lie.
That's a long time ago anyways. And right now, he'd rather think about keeping you steady in his cradle. You would be whacking his head off if he places you in any uncomfortable position and you wake up with a sore on your neck. So his arm tightens around your waist, both of your chairs now practically plastered together by the hip like it was always meant to be one. Luckily, the work that has been buzzing your stress since earlier is finished partially with his help. Chemistry is still in one umbrella with his engineering understanding anywayâso it's not that hard of a feat.
His throat hums a song, it naturally tunes out of his memories with his mother either singing him the melodies or dancing carelessly to one. His other hand holds out your papers of doomâyou always called it to beâinspecting the contents of your hypothesis and connecting the lines of each sub-stack and concepts in it. It's clear that you worked pretty hard to make this perfect, at least you try to in your professor's eyes. New Rome University's pretty strict when it comes to this matter.
Leo breaks his attention away from the papers for a split moment, feeling the shift of your body against his when you moved in your impromptu sleep. Seeing your fluttering lashes, your parted lips, and the way your forehead still has that small hint of tension even when you're in a nap cracks that smile out of him.
"What should I do with you?" his thumb reaches out, seeking to soothe that wrinkle on your skin like his touch has some sort of magic. And maybe it doesâbecause the tiny frown immediately vanishes after he brushes it.
Leo decides to place the paper back on the table. Maybe you'll sleep better if he caresses you while you're at it.
"Clingy chica." a chuckle tumbles out as he too relaxes under her touch, if his touch soothes your stressâperhaps your touch heightens his instead.
There's a gleam passing his eyes when he can't help but trace your every feature. It's a rare opportunity, even when you're used to being this closeâyou'll never let him take a pause and appreciate you. Not just your looks, but you, in general. What you are, simply.
Leo swallows down a hard lump in his throat, feeling that familiar pump of rush that he always tries to deny and forget. A feeling he has when he first met you. The rush of blood running to his cheeks and quickening beat of his heart. A feeling he always tries to dispose by replacing it with attachment to other girls or boys.
He should've had it gone by now. It's been years since that stupid crush on you.
"... What should you do with my heart?" his voice cracks.
He always cracks when it comes to you it seems.
Always cracks when the sun rushes down to embrace the sea, when the sky paints ink of stars, and the moon rises from its hidden cavern. The transition from you sleeping, head on his shoulder and back to his chestâthen to crackling flame with boozes of cans scattered on sand is almost too blurry. When Piper had the most horrible timing and suggested a spin the bottle game in your circle. The most terrible timing when the bottle spins to point at you beside the fireplace.
The most perfect timing when Annabeth raises up a dareâand it reads, "Do a lap dance on someone."
He'd expect that from Piper's dreadful matchmaking, or heckâeven Percy's too fast tongue since he always likes to watch a new challenge everyday. But not from observant, calm, and scary Annabeth. That's one of his closest friend in the circle! And she just decided to dump an ice cold bucket at him?
Leo's not sure if he more terrified if you'll find another guy to flaunt the dare, or worseâhim.
Gods, hopefully him.
Your eyes catches his light brown ones that crackles with the fireplace's spark.
And you actually approach him.
Claps and cheers soars from within the circleâsome already set out a tune with their acapella, all melodious with Will's lyre tucking. Leo doesn't even register when you stand in front of him. His heart feels like a mouse getting chased by a fiery, ravenous cat. And he'd find a way to get out of the room.
If you haven't placed your hands on the slope of his shoulders, if you haven't trailed the fingers down his chest above his thin cloth, if you haven't actually lower yourself on his lapâhe'd have done it right away.
Your hands traverse upwards, while your hips sways before settling properly on his lapâabove his... he doesn't even want to talk about it right now. The acapella of the group is basically a backhanded sound to him right now, because somehowâyour sigh is clearer than any sing-song or small drums.
The proximity is addicting to say the leastâand he hasn't even chugged down on any beers all of you managed to steal from the Mr. D's stack. The hands of yours flies to the back of his hair, tugging at your roots before you move closer. Chest to chest, lips just a breath away. And he's inclined to wash that gap away...
Until you pull away.
To say you weren't affected would be a lie, a full on bullshit. Even when you force a smile and joke around to your friends, even in the midst of the glaring vulnerability of something moreâyou lock eyes with him, across from the crowd. He's always been easy to spot.
Or maybe you just notices everything about him?
... Maybe you should take up his advice and find a guy for a quick fuck.
The street buzzes in choirs of klaxon, raging old men, and fast paced pedestrian as you rush through the city lights. Besides the sea of fast moving people, your phone lights up inside the car's far speed room. A message pops up on the lock screen, one that caught the brunette boy beside you.
"Can't wait to see u!" 20.50
That's enough for Leo to bring up the lucky messenger once again. "You really gonna continue a deal with a guy from dating app?" his eyes paints a lighter streak to his brown eyes, almost like the luminance of sunsetâeven when the night city lights are the only thing hovering above them right now. You'd get lost in them, if both of your lives aren't at stake the moment, you'd take your eyes off the road for a second.
"So what?" an air blows out of your lips, both indicating nonchalance and exasperation. Because he's been acting kind of moody ever since he picked her up. Maybe he was testing some theories and it didn't work out. Maybe he was pranked by the Stoll Brothers before he came with his modified car, nobody knows.
Leo scoffs, "For starters," his back leans onto the chair, his arms crossing as he peeks another glance to your phone when it beeps. "It's just not like you to ask me to lend you my car and drive up to date some guy you barely even know." he runs a hand through his curls, just simply to distract himself from what's really bothering his mind. "Especially if the guy will probably turn out to be a serial killer. You know that happens in thriller flicks." then his mouth stumbles out a sour laughter.
"I already told you." a streak of frown creases between your brows, and you choose to steady your focus on the popping lights on the road ahead instead of him. "And you encouraged me to take the chance, mind you."
"That's before I knew you were gonna meet up with a guy you barely know." he echoes his previous argument, light crackles flick out of his fingertipsâto which it didn't pass your attention. "I thought it's gonna be someone we both know, someone from camp, or maybe NRU!" he doesn't say the real reason. He doesn't say that he wishes it was him you're meeting up with.
He really should stop being a hypocrite and decease this hoping once and for all, he knows that. He knows that he's being a complete prick right now. But Leo is as stubborn as the hoard of cars suddenly lining up in front of you.
"Shit." you mutter under your breath, rising up from your slump to view the congestion ahead of you.
"And great," his hands claps to his thighs, a roll from his eyes as he grunts. "Just exactly what we needed in this fucking night."
"No need to swear because of me." you shoots him a look, becauseâhey! What kind of person doesn't take offense to that?
"No!" the word rolls out of his panicked tongue the same time a car honks in front of you. "I don'tâ" crackle of weak flames spurts out of his curls, probably reflecting both the annoyance and sour taste sitting in his brain. "Shit, I meanâ" his eyes are a tad bit wide, mouth stuttering up staggered syllables before he surrenders completely. Suddenly dropping his back to the car seat, palms rubbing his face. "You know that's not what I meant..."
"You still said it." you murmur.
"Lookâ" he braces himself to speak up, even behind his guarding hands. To which he beckons a gap between his fingers so he could take a peek at you. You responded just the same, eyes flicking to him while car drags to a full pause. The city lights are shining brighter than ever when cars are piled up in the road. Yet, somehowâit doesn't seem more aggravating than the boy next to you.
"Let's just get this over with." he sighs. "You date whoever you want and I'll date whoever I want." It feels like he's coughing out expired ambrosia, because he doesn't feel like anything his mouth is saying. He'll care for you than he could ever care for himself, he's sure of that.
"Which is exactly what I've been saying since thirty minutes ago!" you cheerfully exclaim, a smile as sharp as a stygian iron pulling up on your lips. The irony is clear on your tongue. "You're the one who gets riled up by my own date for no reason!" your voice drives high pitched.
"And now you're the one who's telling me to mind my own business?" everything about him is infectious; his adorably disgusting smile, his incredibly horrifying laughter, his amazingly terrible sense of humor, even now his perfectly frustrating mood-swing is getting to you too. Everything about him is mixed feelings!
"Right, right," his hands lift up in surrender, the glowing warmth from the upper lamps are echoed in his eyes. "Don't worry, you're not gonna hear any bullshit from me again, princessa." Leo is not the type to lose easily in an argument. But this is you who's his debating enemy right now.
You, we're talking about here. You, who's existence is a voice that echoes in his head over and over again like a god's calling (maybe he should get on his knees). You, you, you, who undoes everything that he is.
"Oh, silent treatment, huh?" your forced smile draws even widerânot out of the blushing joy he always made you inâbut out of disbelief at his gnawing attitude. "Real fucking mature, Valdez. Just keep on acting like you don't care and maybe it will actually happen. Go on, pretend like I don't exist."
Leo stays silent with his words, choosing to face the window instead.
Fucking great, you think.
The time counts for eight minutes before the congestion cracks up and cars moves like a bird free from its cage. Though, begrudgingly, your attention is more prolonged on the boy who's definitely not sulking on the passenger seat. In your defense, the way the city lights reflects on his face is distracting you more than you realize. Annoyance stems in your heart, which is a weird thing. Because why would your heart flutter for the second time?
A car honks up behind you. Signaling your frozen car when the others has already moves ahead of you.
"MalĂĄka." you curse under your breath, momentarily imagining a moment where you scold yourself for being so stupid before you gas up the pedal. The car now moves in a speed much different than before. A stark contrast to the slow traffic earlier, now it's gliding under the moonlight.
And you force your mind to think about the mall, the same place where you're supposed to meet up with some unknown man and watch a movie with him. Probably fuck with him later on, that's your whole objective anyway.
Finally, your car enters the main gate of the destination. Wasting no time to search for a parking space when you slide down to the basement.
You beckon the car to a turn, and when an empty box lights up like heaven's pearl, you drive the car to fulfill that spot. Beeps of signal echoes in the car room, you face backward, focusing on whether you parked it correctly or not.
You finally stop.
Leo is still silent.
During this time, if he weren't in such a bad moodâyou'd probably seek his advice. Just because you read inappropriate stuffs doesn't mean you're as experienced as someone who probably has done it. You know the first thing to approach a guy, you just don't know the first to actually keep the lust going.
Especially when he's only a stranger.
You're internally screaming in your head.
"Thanks," you force yourself to mutter, reluctantly turning your attention to him. "For letting me borrow your car."
"No problem." he replies simply.
That doesn't sound like him at all. He'll usually ramble up some mouthy wits before actually saying a respond as common as sentences in basic english books.
So you once again, stops just when your hand is at the door handle.
"Leo." you call out.
"Yeah?" he replies, and that unusually low voice out of his throat is tingling something familiar in your heart.
Thousands of confession lies like melting ice above your tongue. Each one worse than before, each one making your heart race in something definitely not because of the adrenaline from the fight earlier.
"... Nothing." the door flaunts open when you said the single contradiction. A sound is made from it, an echo of troubled tension between you as the fire crackles between blue and vivid orange. Your feet plants on the groundâready to take another step further, yet you hear a voice from behind.
"Have fun with him. You deserve it after the assignment." in your understood translation of Leo's guard melting, this one means, don't let your day get ruined because of me.
Your breath hitches.
And your heart suddenly feels heavyâlike something is anchoring you back to him.
You turn back.
"Alright," you burst in the car suddenly. Shooting your hands to block his way and pin him to his own seat. And Leo with his wide eyes doe look definitely did not expect the surprise at all. His jaw drops, mimicking his shockâand he was about to object if it weren't for your fast tongue. "We're not gonna act like we haven't talked about sex positions in a casual movie night at a random Thursday." maybe that's a terrible sentence even for someone like Leo Valdez, but hey! At least the hook catches his interest.
"What theâ"
"I never fucked anyone." you could hear an explosion blowing up inside his brain simply through the immediate flame jolting out of his curls. "Never been fucked, and never been fucking. Ever. Not once in my lifetime. Even when my opinion about woman on top is better than your shitty doggy preference." there you said it, every lies you made him believe. It's not that dramatic, but the way his eyes dilates even more made you feel so.
"... Congratulations?" he blinks.
"Really?" you facepalm, your arm going stiff beside his head.
"Oh, no, no, no," Leo immediately cuts you off, and his tone is going hazard as if the explosion quite actually happened in his head. "I mean, I thought you've already done it before with the way you talked!" sure enough, actual flames combusts on top of his curls like they're forming a crownâif it was made by a snobby prince and not a proper blacksmith. Red rush heats up in his cheeks, painting his face in a flustered look that you can't help but acknowledge the butterflies in your stomach.
"But," contrast to his sulking face before, that heat in his curls now shifts to draw a grin from his lips. His eyes darts between your pinning hand and to your gaze, "That means all this time you're actually just an innocent princessa? No experience besides probably playing with yourself?"
"That," you swallow a hard lump, "I haven't done that too." you can't help but notice how a gleam passes in his light oak gaze. How that previously doe eyed shocked eyes are now lidded to one that basically reads as... recognition? Desire? Hope?
"Mierda," his grin shifts to something you'd never expect from him in this abnormally ridiculous situation. It's genuine. Purely joyful realization that coaxes a faint dimple from his cheek you never notice until now. It's barely there yet it's making your heart race. "He estado esperando toda mi vida por esto." he breathes out, shakily.
You tilt your head, confusion written on your face.
Noticing your expression, he quickly composes himself with a clear of his throat. The rosy cheeks still remain, though the wide smile shifts into something unbelievably serious. "... There's something I need to know." he voices out, light honey eyes burning into yours. "And I need you to be honest with me."
His hand glides to your own that rests beside your hip, slowly crawling in his fingers to interlock with yoursâuntil you accept him fully. "Are you okay with me touching you?"
Something in the way his skin boosts warmer when your hand holds his is telling you that he's not simply talking about basic touch.
Gods, you want him to do more than touch.
You nod, any semblance of voice being stuck in your dry throat.
"I need to hear you say it." his hand tightens a brief strength in yours. A scrunch of brows heightening the crackle that hides behind his brown sight. "You know you've got a smart mouth, and I'm not gonna do anything until I hear your decision loud and clear."
You could feel a rush of blood running below your abdomen. And you wonder if the erratic pulse is a rhythm out of your heart or the sensitivity between your legs.
"Yeah," you stumble your voice. "Yeah, yeah," an inhale sucks into your mouth, "A thousand times yes, Leo." the tension is an erratic wire in the air between you, alive and burning.
Fumes of accidental explosions springs out of his curls in warm smoke.
"Santo dios, bebè." he gasps, and you notice how his pupils dilates like he's just seeing the world for the first time. "I'm gonna die. Right here, right now." and a smile conjures up like sugar has been hiding in his lips all the time, slow and in relief. Maybe he's already imagining the prospect of dying under sheer joy because you share the same feelings. "And now, you have the responsibility to bring me back to life too."
A sulk forms on your lips. "Don't be dramatic." you rolls your eyes playfully, your walls melting when his hand drifts from your own and slides down across your skin. He eventually settles on your waist, thumb caressing your partially side abdomen above your shirt.
"So," your gaze slips briefly to his mouth. "What do I do now?"
"You know," his nose scrunches, brows wiggling to hint at something seductive in his tone. "How about," without further ado, Leo sneaks in another to hand your other waistâand with your shudder, he successfully brings you on top of his lap. The car door shuts with a low clap as you seek steadiness by holding onto his shoulders.
"You test me that theory we've been fighting over?" his smile curves wider when he looks up at you.
"The one where you're jealous with my date?"
Leo blows an air out of his lips, a dry chuckle escaping his throat. "Well, that's a small part of it," then his eyes lights up, "But that's not what I'm talking about and you know it!"
"You have a smart mouth," tactfully, a teasing smile appears like you've been waiting to use something against him. "Don't you think you should put it to good use, hm?"
"Oh, gods." Leo cracks, actually cracks when a burst of laughter flings out of his throat. The sound is like honey carved out from its own nest, sweet and adorable. You wonder how he could bring out any sort of emotions out of you, at least back then you contemplate so. But now you know, you're just that into him, the same way he is to you.
"No puedo creer que te tenga a todos para mĂ." His fangs flashes out when his grins curls wider. The words are more of a murmur for his own erratic heart, each beat still has god's calling that basically spells out your name in his mind. He's creative like that. "I'm talking about you," he winks. "Arguing about positions, and you're really stubborn on liking to be on top." his head tilts a slight.
"Right." your voice cracks, gaze drifting rapidly from his face to the sight of you sitting on top of his thighs. "Well, maybe," your voice shifts lower, almost a whisper. "I need someone to teach me first?"
"You, asking for my advice?" he lifts a single brow, hand dangerously caressing closer to your hip. "Is the world ending any sooner? Is the earth flat? Is the sun blowing up any second?"
"Don't be dramatic!" you scoffs with a much higher pitch, eyes narrowing when all he does is stifle a laugh at your irritation. When you do tighten your hands around his shoulder, and he wince in mock painâdoes he clear his throat and bury his laughter deep and deep.
"First," Leo drags his fingertips from the tail of your spine to upwards, slowlyâlike he's testing the waters to see what will made you crack. "You gotta relax. No need to overthink your pretty head around this thing."
"Second," his hand is now caressing its palm on your upper back, before bringing you closer to him in this intimate position. Until the only thing separating you both is one strand of breath away. His freckles are easier to count in this close angle, and his eyes are like glinting dew of warmth that's mixing up with a want that widens his pupil.
The slope of his nose brushes against yours, and his other hand reaches for yours. Just so he could drag your palm to his shuddering chest, the feel of his rushing heartbeat filling your senses. "All you have to do is sit still and make some pretty noises for me, m'kay?"
You scoff, rolling your eyes playfully. "Do you always start it out like this?"
"Always?" Leo blinks, once and twice before a nervous laughter staggers out. "Bebè, I haven't even done this with anyone before."
You frown. "So we're blind leading the blind? And here I thought you'd be more experienced than me."
"I am!" Leo grasps to clutch at the front of his chestâonly that it's your hand that's gripping it as he guides you. "It's just..." he clicks tongue, the sound echoing inside the cramped space while he glances sideways. Deciding that the view of the parking space is more intriguing than you on top of his lap. There's a crack in his tone that suggests something more than simply sex. Something painful. "It's a bit complicated, and I don't want make this moment about me."
He lets go of your hand, bracing himself with an inhale before sliding his warm palm to your cheek.
"It's all about you, princessa." his gaze softens, lips parted like he wants to say more, though only a soft inhale is heard from his mouth.
"Then at least," you interrogate, eyes narrowing in search of any hidden meaning in his gesture. "Have you actually tried putting it in yet?"
He pulls a lopsided smile. "Well, I know the first thing to loosen it up, that's for sure." suddenly, his thumb and one finger moves to pinch your cheek. Wiggling it as if he's playing with mochi as your head shakes slightly from his hold.
You grumble, though you make no effort on swatting off his offensive hand. You know it's just a body language response so he could lighten up the mood, hence you let himâjust this once. "And if someone sees? The mall's pretty crowded today, who knows we're gonna get interrupted while we're at it."
"You thought I don't put full black frames for the windows?" he raises a brow, though his pinch on your cheek fractions more before he finally gives mercy to you. Choosing to slip his hand behind your nape.
"Now," his breath fans against your mouth, his head pushes off slightly from leaning to the chairâwanting to lean towards you, instead. The scent of him is filling your mind till all you can think about are cinnamons and bitter honeydew aroma. Till all you can think about is him.
Both of your lips brushes against one another.
Leo's eyes fleets to yours, drawn stars swimming in those brown irises as he looks at you in half lidded shape.
You understood the message.
Hence, you surrender to the overwhelming surge of flame, bursting off in tiny sparks inside your veins when you smash his lips to yours. Your teeth clashing against one another which makes your groan against his mouth, Leo takes the hint easily. His hand behind your waist brings you closer to him, practically pressing chest to chest.
Your lips are inexperienced, that's for sure. But enthusiasm burns brighter as you shift on his lapâyour hands crawling to slip around his face, then to hold his curls. Just lightly.
Leo gasps.
Both of your salivas are basically swapped to one another's mouth, you're merciless, to say the least. So, Leo, like any other good teacher would doâtugs at your hair instead. Collecting the strands in his palm before he forces it to pull back. Successfully separating your lips in apparent exhales and messy connected line of spit.
"If I didn't know any better," a breathless laughter fills in the space between you, his smile widening to a messy grin as his gaze darts between your eyes and your mouth. "I think you should be the teacher here. Seems like you move a lot for a first timer, hm?"
You were too busy catching your breath to respond at his teasing. The heat is unbearable, or maybe you're just that affected by him. You want nothing more than to wipe that grin and kiss him senseless. Throwing logic off the window and just let him steal every breath you'd inhale or exhale. Just let him steal lungs.
"... Shut up."
And your lips crashes into his like a tidal released from the deep restrained trenches. If the previous one was more battling and experimentingâthis one's definitely the result. His tongue tied into yours, his hand unbearably warm against your lower back, and his nails clawing at your roots when you whine into his mouth.
The effect is immediate. Leo snaps by digging his fangs on your bottom lip, turning your shy exhales to a full on groan when the sharp of your teeth caught on the pout of his lower lip. Tugging hard enough to pull a strangled sound from the depths of his throat that seemed to surprise both of you.
"So good," he breathes away from yours, just to take no second on plunging in once more. His curls brushing against your forehead while his nose nudges into yours, a testament of how close you are in just a span of minute. "You're too fucking good, princessa," then finally, need of air interrupts between the both of you.
"I don'tâ" you attempt to speak, but your words shifted into a low mewl when his mouth moves to your jawline instead. The position makes you jolt slightly on his lap, to which you noticeâsomething is poking you from down below.
"What? You don't taste good?" Leo rasps out, attention too focused on peppering your neck with kisses it deserves. And when your neck tilts to give him better access, you could practically feel his grin against your fragile skin. "You can't say that when I'm losing mind over you here."
A breathless laugh flows out of you. Feeling Leo's teeth nibbling your skin, to the point you could imagine light hickeys on your neck is making your head spin. And you wonder, why haven't you done this since ages ago? "You're babbling again, Leo."
"Of course I am," he bites on a specific skin pulsing against his lips, then darting out his tongue to soothe the ache. "Why should I shut up when I could use my mouth," he inhales, dragging his tongue along the slope of your throat. "To make you wet," he makes a point by grinding his hips against yours. "And tell you how pretty you look doing this to me?"
"Oh, now you blame me?" you huff, chest heaving up and down as your eyes are lidded shutâjust to relish in his touch fully. You're not even doing anything to him! If anything, he's the one doing things to you.
"Yeah, you." along with his tongue, his teeth is no less ferocious. He moves to your collarbone now; nipping, suckling, and licking at every hickey he carved onto you. His breath is a hot exhale when he speaks, "You're the one fucking me up, that's for sure."
You sigh.
Leo chuckles, voice somehow shifting lower than it should be. "See? That," his hand slides from your waist to your abdomen, fondling against the hem of your top, seeking your body beyond the fabric. "That one sound is already making me hard, bebè."
"I know that since five minutes ago," because yeah, that prominent bulge is hard to dismiss when it's brushing against your heat with every movement in this cramped space. "It's kind of hard to ignore." and you melt into his warmth when his calloused palm slips in your shirt, grazing against your bare skin.
"Kind of?" his laugh is a sweet smoke against your flustered skin, which's beaming in red from every heat he spread onto you. You find that only his affection is infectious, but his naturally warm body is too. "You think it's not hard enough for you?" he finally pulls away from your close cradle, just to take the chance to shoot that aggravating grin of his when he squeezes the underside of your breast.
You can only groan in disbelief.
He has the audacity to spout that sassy words and twisting your mouth while dangerously going to the touch the one spot you never thought anyone would touch? Bastard. Yet he only kisses your anger away when his lips molds into yours, his thumb brushing against your bra's surface before he murmurs. "Take it off."
You pull away and look at him like he just asked a thousand drachmae's from you.
"I mean," he clears his throat, hands freezing under your shirt. "If you want to, of course. We could do it with clothes on. You know, there's this preferenceâ" and he goes on and on with his tongue.
It's no use to fight him with words, you know that since he started rambling about quantum mechanics when you first entered his bunker. Not that you minded it, though.
So you reach for the hem of your top, and pulls it upwards with your arms crossed. And you definitely noticed how his words fades to a pathetic stumble as his jaw dramatically drops. Which goes the same for your shirt, which is now lying on the empty driver seat.
The cold air is a sensitive pleasure against your warm skin.
A flame sparks up in Leo's hair.
"Holy shitâ" your mouth falls.
"Okay, OKAY!" Leo's hands frantically throws upwards, desperate to usher off the smoke and combusting fire stirring up a flambĂŠ on his head. His face is the same color as the element too, red and panicked. He can't believe he just spiraled in front of you, when you're looking all perfect and he's a complete disaster! "First of all, all of this is justâ" a new of burst flame tickles off. "You never saw this! And I never acted like a total loser when you expect me to be all suave and flirty and attractive," pause, "Which I am, butâ!"
A finger presses onto his lips, effectively shutting him up with a shush out of you. He notices, that laughter that seems to bloom armies of peonies, flowing in the space between them with such eagerness and joy. "C'mon, teach," you wiggle your brows, lips pulled wide as a series of giggle still flies out naturally. "Are you gonna touch me already or do I have to make the move?"
"No need." it's almost comedic worthyâhow fast he immediately composes himself with that serious look when sparks of fire still jumps from his curls. He adjustes his collar as if tidying an imaginary tie, light honey eyes darkening with the invitation of your half bared form. "That was just a moment of weakness."
"I like your weakness when it involves me." your arms circles around his neck now, fingers playing with his curls.
"That means you like all of me, then," his mouth trails from your collarbone to the pad of your bra. Huffing a heavy inhale to the scent of you driving him insane. "I'm always weak," his mouth closes around the fabricâwhich surprises you a little bit considering he hasn't even took it off yet. The slope of his grazes your skin as he juts his tongue and circle it around the small area of the pad. The area where your nipple should be behind it. "And you're always on my mind."
He bites on the fabric, tugging your bud of nerves through it.
Your head jolts back, back arching a slight while you tug at his curls tighter. It feels dizzying, yet your mind has never been any clearer. His tongue and lips are like sweet nothings carved into your skin. Making you sigh and mewl.
It takes approximately fifteen seconds before he finishes making out with your bra (long story short). Not to mention how his other palm squeezes against your perky flesh, the heat spiking up further in your veins. There's a damp of saliva on the surface when he pulls away, eyes slowly dragging to peek at you from his lashes, pupils nearly swallowing his brown irises.
The sight makes you swallow.
His hand glides, tracing the waistline of your bra before plucking off the strap, with such ease too. The fabric loosens slightly, and Leo haltsâeyes burning into yours like he's still asking for your permission, after all that suspense.
Words has never been good between the two of you, so you take things into your own mattersâyou tug the fabric past your arms, before throwing it to the next seat.
Leo throws himself in the crook of your neck.
"Oh gods, mierda, oh my fucking gods," he whines, full of embarrassment and shameful needâwhich is ironic because the word shame and Leo Valdez is like two things on the opposite. His hands don't ever dare to go anywhere near your skin, and you notice how they tremble in the air. "I'm actually going to die, this is elysium, yeah, I don't deserve thisâ"
"Leo," you pull him out of his hiding place, cupping his cheeks on your palm as you force him to meet your gaze head on. "I want you to touch me," his breath hitches, "I want you to fuck me," you could feel immense uprise of temperature blowing like a steam out of his skin, "Is that so hard to believe?" and your thumb caresses against his cheek gently, prompting his eyes to flutter close.
"But I don't want to fuck you," his head shakes under your hold, eyes still closed for a brief second before he blinds them open, "I want to love you," he wants reassurance, because as much as he is spontaneous and carelessâhe's weak for you, just a boy wanting to be loved without being left behind. "Is that so hard to believe?"
His eyes gleams in what closely resembles the sun dimmed down, vulnerable and desperate. And when he nuzzles against your palm? That's when you melt in the spot. Even more so when he lands a kiss on the center.
You shift much closer, pressing your bare chest against his thin shirtâthe sensation is a tickling arousal to your brain. But you want to focus on him fully for a second, and you flies a small kiss on the corner of his eyeâthe intimate moment feels heartwarming in their shared desire, "Then," you mutter, "Teach me how love's supposed to feel like."
A shudder crawls toward Leo's spine.
In a span of seconds, his head dunks down. His hand finally gathers the courage to collect the back of your hair in his palm, slowly guiding it upwards as his moth drifts low. Lower than before. Low enough to catch one of your mound right into his mouth. You gasp, arching your spine before he gives a light suck on the nipple.
"O-Oh, gods," you mewl out of breath, closing your arms against his neck with a lot more force when he eagerly sucks on that bundle that makes you whine under his touch. You knew with the way he's biting your neck that his would be relentless, but your chest is more sensitive with his natural heat, and you could feel it harden as he licks and circles his tongue around it.
"Leo, that feels so..." you couldn't finish your words. Not when he latches off your breast only to go on another round to your other one. Eager with mouth with its nipple hardâyou don't even know how it went like that. All you know is how good his mouth feels and the erratic thump of your heat is spreading hot rush to your cheeks. You want more, easily more. Hence your hips whine against him, grinding just on top of his bulge to feel anything of relief to your ache.
"Keep doing that," he groans against your perked up mound, making your skin feel hot all over with his heavy breaths. This time, a hand surges upwards to fondle with your untended one as he continues to suck, kiss, and bite at your sensitive hard nub. While the finger does just the same to your sloppy one, flicking it then pinching it playfully, "Mierda, nghâhahh, yeah, bebè, that feels so good, doesn't it?"
"L-Leo," your head throws back, lips falling apart when another gasp echoes right out of them. You can't stop saying his name, it's like every bite he does onto you is seducing out that sound of your chest. Rasp and full of need. It's no surprise that you responded with another roll of your hips, making him suckle a bit rougher on your aching bud.
"Can't get enough of this," he breathes out, ravishing your breast like someone starved off any drink or food for days. "A-Ah, that's right," it's hard to think of anything concrete even when he's supposed to be teacher in this moment, he just can't keep control, especially when it comes to you, "Just like that, you're moving your hips so goodâ" and a small whimper is ripped out of him the moment your shift and grind against him.
"Oh, f-fuckâ!" you feel it pulsing and crying below when he bites onto the hard nub outrightly, leaving draws of hickeys all over your skin not like a claimâbut a mold of your body together. How much you trust each other to the point of doing this. It becomes more proven as your spine arches and your body automatically jolts at this point. Seeking friction to soothe the cry that your pussy wails down below. It hurts, and you need him to do moreâto burn you more.
That is when you realize, you feel his tent becoming more wet and embarrassing, more so than before.
And the snap of his head to the chair's rest, his mouth falling open, sweat gathering in forehead while he curses in a series of spanish syllables is driving your body to grind against him harder. To the point of your wet pussy folds imprinting against your useless panties, to the point you could feel every heat and rough presses of his bulge against your clit.
"Haaahâ!" you're not sure if that loud moan toppled off the car came out of his throat or yours, but nothing seems to matter except the ecstasy you imprinted on each other. How he came in absolute ease, and how you succumb to his warmth like you need him all the time. The wet tent below you feels painful even to you, and you don't even register you own actions when you hand slides into the hem of his shirt.
"Oh, quieres que me quite la ropa? Oh, estĂĄ bien, joder, estĂĄ bienâ" you know he's practically running off his mouth with boundless and mindless babbles that you could never comprehend in the rising heat between you. Both of you doesn't waste your time on getting him out of his top, which is a red sweater that you definitely didn't notice it peeking out his happy trail when he arches his back to the chair... nope, definitely not!
Now, all that meets your heady gaze is the span of his bare torso. All dribbled in sweat that you shamelessly begin to be turned on by it, tan skin graced with light muscles dripped down to his abdomen, and a faint brush of brunette tricks spreading out from his pants. The sight making you hump against his wet tent just to hear him whimper once more.
Only then does Leo comprehends the very possibility that you might not like his body. "Mira, sĂŠ que pareceâ" and only then too he realizes that his tongue is still working on full spanish mode. "Shit, I'm sorry," he babbles on, eyes blown wide and cheeks inflammable red. "I know I don't look that good or strong or hot orâ"
"What d'you mean?" you reach a hand to pinch at his biceps, which tenses and got a lot more prominent under your touch. "You look just fine to me, pretty boy." and Leo mewls at that nickname, body shifting against yours in search of pleasure.
"You are insane." he breathes shakily, hips jolting up against yours in weak humps, considering he just released after the first one. "You are evil and you're going to kill me in this car and the police is gonna find my body and I'll end up in a true crime podcast by some stranger who doesn't even know that I died because of this insanely hot and beautiful angel!"
Told you he babbles.
"But seriously," you near your mouth to his ear, using the knowledge of every platonic sex talks you guys both had in previous times. You know that his ears are sensitive, and you used that to your advantage.
"You look as good as I am naked." your teeth nibbles on his earlobe, looting out a trembling sigh out of him. "And besides, it's not fair if I'm the only one bare, that feels spiritually misogynistic." and you babble on too.
"Right," he nods almost eagerly, head bobbing up and down before he swallows a lump through his adam's apple. "Right, butâ"
"No buts," you teasingly nudge a light bite on the side of his neck, like a small ant's carve. But maybe he feels a big one instead, because he trashes under your bodyâone hand fisting your hair to a tight grip while the other holds your waist even stronger.
"Fuck, that's what I'm talking about." he tilts his head as his eyes closes for a brief moment. Letting you litter his body in sweet and sloppy kisses that he never knew he could have it ever in his life. You feel like a miracle to him, an angel sent to torment him specifically as his hips suddenly raises when you digs your fangs into his shoulder.
"I'm just copying what you did to me." because even with your bravery, you're still picking up on his cues on how to do this whole sex thing, it's a bit confusing, but as long as you followed him, it'll be okay, right?
Another mewl falls from his parted lips. "Bring it down," he breathes in harsh staggers, swiftly grabbing your hand and trace it along the slope of his chest, then to his faint abs, then to rest at the surface of his wet pants. "Touch me there, pretty."
And you do follow his words, just with a twist of your own tease. Your tongue glides on the sweat glistening his chest like drops of paint all over his body. Leo shudders, bringing his arm to hover above his fluttering eyes as he arches more and more to the seat. Littered kisses, soft sighs, and quiet praises flows out of your mouth like waterfall, and you're not sure if you're cooling down his heated body or intensifying it.
"That's it," his words are a trembling inhale when you nuzzle your face against the hot linens of his abs, though that's not what earned a yelp from him next. Your arms extends to reach your hand for the seat adjuster, suddenly springing the chair to drop backwards to beckon him for a lying position.
"Ah, oh, you want me toâ" Leo blinks out of his daze, seeing how you begin to lower yourself on his lap, "Shit, uhh, you sure you can take it?"
You peer at him briefly, "You think I can't handle it?"
"Not that!" his hands wave uselessly, a frantic look on his face before he rises with the help of his elbows, "You sure you're not gonna..." he coughs, "Look at me weird after you see it or something? I mean, I don't want to gross youâ"
"Are you like big down there or something?" you take the opportunity to ghostly brush your tongue against the peeking trails above his pants.
"M-Mierdaâ" he arches his spine, a breathless gasp breaking out of him, "You are a terrible student. Really, I should give you a hard D or maybe throw you out or maybeâ" his ramblings are cut off when your mouth closes on his belt's strap. Suddenly all that echoes in his brain is how cute you look kneeled down like this, your tongue uselessly flinging at the iron handles before your hand lifts to open it instead.
And suddenly, his belt is tugged off by your own mouth, like you were too impatient for him. It clangs against the car's door, while you drag down his zipper line by your teeth.
"Hold on," since you're a newcomer at this, he should be a good teacher, after all. So with a gulp down his adam's apple, he drags his pants to his knee, and slowly pulls down his underwear.
You're astonished, to say the least.
It's true, he is big. If you do the math, he's approximately 6 inches, or less so. It's slight curved and has that blushing warmth coupling in his bulbous tip that you could already imagine it hitting the back of your throatâ
"Do you like it?" Leo asks much quieter, like an exhale mixed with a whisper. His eyes are keen on your face, taking note of every reaction written on it. He feels hot and bothered, but he still wants to know if you're as eager as him.
You are.
"Well, now I know," you brush your palm to the underside of his cock, and you could feel the girthy veins around it tense to your brief touch. "Where all that height went to." your tongue juts out to lick at your upper lip, a grin pulling on your face.
"Excuse me?" he attempts to argue, but his spine stiffens against the seat, a loud whimper breaking out of him, "Did you justâ" fire crackles on his fingertips, his voice tuning high pitched while he tries with his whole strength not to buck against your hand. "Did you just call me short whileâ" another whine interrupt his words, just when you brush your palm deliberately along his shaft.
"Mhm," you nod, eyelashes flicking up to him, "Got a problem with that?"
Leo catches on that look on your face, and he swearâhe could come just by staring at that eyes of yours.
"Yeah, I got a problem with that," he gathers his previous composure, sliding his hand to your hair, "I got a problem when you're not using that smart mouth for something useful," there it is, that familiar cocky Leo Valdez that always bullies you for any inconvenience you made.
"Come on," he licks his lips, voice shifting lower, "I'll guide you, pretty girl."
With the fingers collecting your locks in his palm, Leo slowly pushes you forwardâa muffled whimper tumbling out when you leave a kiss on his aching tip. Then, still with your hands under his shaft, you start to widen your mouth and take him partly in. It's a bit hard to adapt to his girth, but you managed, with each reassuring coos he whispered to you.
"That's it," he huffs, "That's a good start," he couldn't take his attention off of yours. With your eyes fluttered shut, mouth partly full of his cock, and hair collected up in his hand. And when you grazes your tongue along the veins, he melts like a poodle.
"A-Ah, mart girl," it's addicting, to hear his sweet nothings when you explore his shaft like a popsicle. His slick liquids are coating the surface, and you suckle on every leftovers of release you could taste on him. It's sour, but it doesn't bother you much. Instead, you double down. Gliding your hands to his tight balls before squeezing them.
"Mmmâhaahâ!" instead of buckling against your mouth, he arches his back against the seat. Head thrown to the back while his mouth continues to sputter more heated whimpers.
"Fuck, yeah, just like that, bebè," his tug on your hair strengthens a slight, just so he could push you down on his cock fully. Just so he could hear you gag and whine below him, his pre-cum mixed with your drool dripping down your chin. "Atta girl." he murmurs in low bass, and suddenlyâyou feel his fat tip slamming against the roof of your mouth when your eyes widen.
Repeatedly, his tip snugs between the tightness of your throat, hard enough for him to feel every swallow you tookâ it's almost surreal, no one could explain the emotions he was going through as he lolls his head back, jaw parted, mewling your name as you glide your fingernails along his thighs, playing with him, stroking his length and suckling tight.
"You'reâahâtoo good at this, you know that right?" his words are a string of blurred rambles and deep whimpers. The sight of your head bobbing up and down till you take him all in, and at this point, he fully lost all control of his power. Flame crackles in the air, and he didn't know some of his high temperature also flows down to the blood gathering in his cock before you muffle and gag against him.
"Mhmm," you could feel your tears brimming in your lashes when he suddenly tastes too hot around your tongue. Yet you don't waste your effort, instead you suck him off violently now, twisting your tongue over the twitching veins as he cries and moan, the flesh of him is searing against your tastebud, but you swallow every hot cum he spurts out. Every buck of his hips against yours like he too had surrendered fully to the lust.
"Shit, I'm gonna, I'm gonnaâ" he gasps a loud one, right before bitting his lip harshly to stifle a cry down. He knows he's probably burning up your mouth now, but he just can't seem to control it. Not when you're so pliant and accepting of him. Not when he slaps the back of your throat and your eyes rolls back because of it. He's sure you're seeing stars right now.
"Dios, I'm gonna comeâ" he staggers in his breath. But you don't stop, if anythingâyou swallow him much deeper and faster. Being the one responsible for the cries escaping his mouth and the rising temperature in the cramped room. Your tongue swirls and your mouth sucks, and he's on the edge already.
"F-Fuck, a-ahâ!" that over rush of pleasure happens when you redirect your hands to squeeze at his runny and tight ballsâthe effect is as you expected, maybe even better. Harsh and hot sprays of cum shoots into your throat, milking down your tongue. And you release your mouth with a wet slop! echoing in the room, saliva and thick whites glistening your lips. You thought it'd be over by now.
Well, maybe a giving a small peck at his tip is a fault. Because suddenly, sprays of warm whites shoots into your face. Directly. Painting some parts of your cheeks and your lashes before you blink in surprise.
Huh?
"Shitâlo siento, lo siento, dioses, estoy muerto," and Leo seems to realize that too with his babbling mouthful curses. Suddenly, he springs up from his laid position, leaning down to catch your messy face in his hands. "I'm sorryâ" he wipes some of the dripping pleasure on your lashes, a frantic look adorning his face with that blushing cheeks and wide eyes. "A-Are you okay?"
Did he just came so hard that he literally painted your face with cum?
"CariĂąo, I swear, you can be mad at meâ" all words are burned to ashes the moment you smash your lips in a mindless kiss. More like eating each other's faces as you surge your tongue deep in his cavern, ripping out a startled moan out of his pouting lips. The drops of cum on your face rubs partly on his nose, and the view is just a hot mess of pleasure.
"Nghâmhm," his mouth falls and closes with every flick of your tongue, he could taste his own pleasureâand the sensation is like a mindfuck all over his concentration. Leo brings you upwards, tightening his hold on your cheeks while you mewled against his mouth. Your knees feel sore, not used to being on the ground for ten? Fifteen minutes straight? You don't know.
All you know is how good his groan vibrates into you when you palm his painfully tight cock once more. Rubbing it up and down as you slather his liquids all over his flesh, some on his thighs, some on his abdomen, it's just a mess at this point.
Leo bucks into you, "Mierda, ni siquiera sabĂa que podĂas ser asĂ..." he inhales your exhale, taking your breath away before he bites on your bottom lip and twist your tongue too easily.
Your hand handles him with erratic speed now, eager to bring another release of pleasure. Another break of his walls. And when you finally sit fully on top of his lap, you can't help but direct the tip to your weak folds transparent to your damp panties. Even when your skirt is not that short, you must be so driven by your desire to start humping against his bare cock.
"O-Oh, gods, oh mamĂŽâ" Leo's cries are high pitched when you swallow the rasping gasps whole. His nails are digging a slight into your hair when he moves them, guiding your head to the side while he leans forward to steal more of each moans ridden out of you. You could feel the strain between his brows, his curls ticklish against your forehead before he pushes you to the seat's board. It's a faint slam, but nonetheless startles you while Leo continues to shorten every chance of breath you could have.
In retolt, your palm squeezes around his shaftâa rough and tight one, enough for him to dig his fangs into your bottom lip till you're sure it probably bled a hint of ache. Another spark of cum escapes his veins, ruining the skin of your chest with hot slicks spread like the ones on both of your faces. It's a real fucking mess, and you don't think anything could be better than this.
Leo pulls away with a tug on your bottom lip, which are now sore and red from his ravish. You couldn't even inhale when the air is too hot around you, your head swimming in flames while you feel like every touch of him is searing a mark into you. Sure, your eyes are still closed when he already opened his, and for a second, no exhale flowed out of you.
Leo's pupils dilates, because yeahâeven he can lost his breath after that intense make out. His eyes tracked over your chest heaving up and down, and to his spots of release slicked on the surface of your beautiful and perfect skin. He just loves everything about you. So with a dart of his tongue, Leo leans in. Suckling on the traces of his pleasure on you, licking every mark clean with occasional nibbles on it. Making you arch and trash around under his cradle.
"A-Aaahnâ!"
"Mhm, you're lucky I made the car soundproof." he groans a muffled one. Mouth far too focused on ravishing and drawing hickeys to your chest. While your back is against the board, Leo makes sure to keep your lower one upright, occasionally tracing small circles against your hip as if it could soothe you from moaning out loud.
"Leo, I wannaâ" you know what should happens next, and you want it so badly for him to focus on your lower ache too. "PleaseâI wanna..."
"I don't hear her begging yet." Leo murmurs, eyes glazing upwards to yours in swirls of darkness engulfing his irises. It feels like he's consuming you, body and soul.
"Her?" you blink, tears from before dimming your eyes to glassy ones.
"Her." in span of fire eating up oak, Leo's fingers found your sensitive wetness underneath your skirt. Pressing to your squelching folds in spite of your undies, in fact, he relishes on that. Playing with your cute clit like he's fixing something in those automatons he has. Everything feels ten times more sensitive, especially with the warmth on his hand being borderline on injecting a flame.
"S-Shit, ohâ" you blinds your eyes shut, drop of tears trailing down your cheeks. "Not thereângh-aaah!" his middle finger teases your cavern, nudging it against your excited hole through the transparent fabric. Even with him not fully in you, it sucks him the moment he got too close and threatens to plunge his finger right there. With your sweet panties on.
He lost his mind, you see.
Leo clicks his tongue, lifting his head so he can tip his words right to your ear. "All I hear," he pinches the clit till your head throws against the board backward, seeing stars in your peripheral. "Is 'Leo, yeah, right there,'" his tone is deep, not because it's low bass or anything. But deep in a way that is full hoarse and invokes lust all through your veins, stemming in your heart with burning roots. "'Fuck me right there.'" he bites gently on your earlobe, and you feel it electrifies your body the same way he rubs his finger pad along your wanton slit.
"I think that's what she's telling me." his fangs are peeked out when he grins against you, it's a whole contrast. You, crying and moaningâwhile he's being all cocky and domineering. He has that complications, acting all nervous then suddenly bullying you through every shameless pleasure you're having.
"Please," you buckle against his searing hand, your slick coating his calloused digits in a way that makes you want rip your panties already.
"Leo, right there." your lashes flutters to focus on him, thousands of words stuck in your throat, and you hoped he could read them through your tears. "Fuck me right there, Leo."
... Crap.
Your body leaps forward, and you yelp and fall immediatelyâif it weren't for him handling you to sit properly on his lap. Leo is laid on the chair again, dark curls showered in sweat against the seat's head. Yet, all he focuses is on the harsh slide of your clad pussy against his bare cock, the shaft running along the slit as he suckles a fang on his bottom lip. Trying to resist and keep things in control.
He opens a drawer nearby, just at the center of the car's board before hoarding through it. You raised an eyebrow at his action, wondering why he's plunging his hand into the drawer instead of inside you.
Oops...?
It became clear to you once a small packet of protection is caught between his fingers. Swiftly, he tore the package's end with his teeth, right before pulling out the clad stretch and he catches it on his hand. The gesture is almost hypnotizing, you're very much aware of how wet you're suddenly becoming with your liquid now dripping on his lap.
"Last chance to back out." he says, but he knows you won't. Not with your impatient pussy beating its pulse against his abdomen, and your eyes glassy with desire and arousal. Still, he wants one last consent from you.
You open your mouth, attempting to string a response. Instead all that comes out are staggering breaths and muffled cries. So when your throat is locked, you move with your hand. Which is now resting against his shoulder. Slowly, like that one time he taught you, your finger taps against him.
"Yes." a morse code.
Leo sighs a long one.
"Tell me if it's too much." he mutters, eyes desperate and gentle when he tangles in yours. "Or," he smiles, surprisingly less cocky and more genuine, "If it's not enough."
Gently, so careful, he lifts you up by the hips. Pulling your panties down and guiding you upwards a slight to position you while you hold onto his shoulders. The tip creams out come slicks that falls underneath the condom's stretch. "Breathe with me, m'kay?" his voice is so soft, and you follow. Inhaling the same moment as he does when you feel the bulbous head sears in your folds. "Take it in."
Ticklish sting signals your entire body to a fight or flight mode. But you stay and bite your lip, focusing on his words to take it easy. To take him easy. "And out." he exhales, dragging you downwards through the flesh in slow motion. You need time to adapt and get used to all of this. Though it's proven difficult when pain mixes in with pleasure in your lungs.
"Hey, hey, focus on me." he assures, drawing small circles of comfort to your hips that crackles some seconds. It's not that hot arousing one you feel him mark onto you earlier, this one is plain warmâlike the fireplace in cold winter.
"Let's go through this again, okay, cariĂąo?" his words feels like a kiss to your sting, and you nod, your gaze speaking a secret language only he could understand.
"Alright," he mumbles, "In," you take a deep inhale, blinding your eyes shut just so you can focus on him and not the mix of emotions indescribable to your heat. It's only halfway now, you know by how his girth became more obvious against your clad walls.
"And out," finally, you're sat fully on top of him with his cock warming up and snuggling in your pussy muscles. It's breathtaking, but so fucking relieving. Like all the problems steamed off your back and flies to whatever hell it should be.
"See?" he coos, "It doesn't hurt at all, right?" you shake your head, and he lifts his head just to peck a fleeting kiss to your outer wrist.
Then he rolls his hipsâjust enough to make you gasp againâbut keep it shallow and teasing.
"Iâll go as slow as you need," he whispers, "Or⌠we can stop."
"But if we keep going? Iâm gonna love you so deep you forget your own name." He kisses once again at your wrist. "Promise."
You take opportunity at his moment to relax your muscles, to blink your eyes open and simply appreciate how wrecked he looks right now. You know you're no better though. Still, it gives you a heartwarming assurance, that all of this is mutual. That the love is mutual.
He knows you're strongâgoddamn fierce, actuallyâbut right now? You're allowed to be slow. Allowed to be soft. Allowed to need.
And if you needs him quiet? Heâll stay silent.
If you needs words? Heâs got a thousand lined up just for moments like this. But mostly? He just wants you present. With him. Not running off in that pretty head of yours.
Just here.
With his name on your lips and his body part of yours for the first time ever.
"Can I," you mutter. "Can I move? I'm not gonna go too fast though, I'm... still getting used to this." a small laugh escapes you.
"Whatever you want, princessa." he smiles, faint dimples forming on his apple cheeks.
With the knowledge of a regular erotic reader and a complete virgin, you shift with his cock inside you a bit terribly. But it's not you if you don't learn quickly along the way. Slowly, you get the hang of it.
"Like that, exactly like that, bebè," he guides you too by helping you circle your hips and lines them up and down vertically. "Gods, you can jump on it and kill me and I still would think you can do no wrong." he nuzzles against your palm that has moved to caress his cheek, right before placing a small kiss on your hand.
Then he opens one eye just to wink at you, "Best way to go."
"Really?" it's not you if you dismiss a challenge as tempting as that one. So with a streak of tease curving your lips upwards, you grip your shoulder a lot stronger and let your hips do the talking.
You push a long smooth forward, falling a gasp when you feel him carve his nails on your hips as you grind against him. Testing the waters by taking notes of every strangled whimpers and groans breaking out of him. And you feel a bloom of satisfaction when he throws his head back.
"Holy fuckâ" he curses out, trying his damn hardest not to dig at your hips and bounce you up and down his fat cock like he wanted to. Your body's whine is like a waterfall of elixir blessed to cure all his broken parts, yet his words are half sin when he darts out a tongue to gleam his grin, "This soon, bebè? Are you trying to prove me wrong or her wrong?"
At the exact moment, a squeal of pure filth rasps from the needy lips between your thighs. And with every attempted bounce you ride on him, an electric surge of lewdness strikes a slam to your clawing walls. Like your pussy is trying to suck the life out of him and lock him inside forever, like your bodies feel natural to be one.
Leaks of pre-cum trickles from your pussy lips, basking his brunette trails in covers of it. Even more so when your clit and slight traces of yours grinds against the travels. You curse out, your head tilting backwards as your eyes flutters meekly. "AahnânghâLeoâ"
"Come on," seeing your ass echo up and down with every slam is doing something to him, something crackling and dangerous. While he lets you take control of the cardio, Leo's hands are restless. It glides like a man starved to your breasts, pinching your nipples just to mock at the weary moan you induced. Then down so quickly to your puckering lips, slipping half his digits inside and collect your clit teasingly. It swells and tears up, turning red with the blood gathering in it making you weak and stumble above him.
"L-Leoâ!"
"Mmnh, say my name again." he has the audacity to crack a laugh under you, the sound a melodious torture whispering naughts and searing flames to your skin. He takes his thumb and his finger to ripe apart your swollen folds, licking his lip at every spurt of slick crying out of them as his gaze is transfixed to it. It's addicting, even better than any projects or engines he worked on 24/7. Maybe he should replace you as his specialty now.
"Leo, godsâ!" a muffled groan tumbles out of you, and you feel your inner muscles gathering up blood in them. Making you weak and pliant above him.
"Y-Yeah, gorgeous, fuckâyou're squeezing me so hard," he rasps a long moan, his voice raw and broken as her walls clamp down around himâtight, hot, perfect.
He freezes for a secondâfingers clenching the side of your hipsâbecause if he doesnât, heâs going to come right then and there. And no way in hell is that happening. Not when you're just starting to unravel.
So he counts backward from ten in Spanish. (Diez... nueve... ochoâŚ)
And when he can trusts himself again?
He moves.
Slow at firstâa long, deep glide that makes you sob into the heated airâbut then faster. Not rough, never rough with you, but sure. Confident. Like every stroke is a promise: 'I'm here. You're safe. Iâve got you.'
"My princessa," his hand slides from your tearful clit to press onto the bulge evident against your abdomen. And the squeeze of your walls becomes tighter when he nudges a palm against your pubic bone.
You cry out his name in a loud whimper. Not only for the intense crash of his cock imprinted to your cervix, but also for the sudden faint but startling burn you felt when he presses a palm onto you.
"My perfect girl, my everything, my goddessâfuck," his head throws back, thrusting up too abruptly as his bulbous cock hit the sticky muscles surrounding your cervix, the tip bulging hot when he buckles up a sharp slam. "I'm gonna make you feel so goodâI'm gonnaâs-shit, nghâo-ohâ!"
"Leo, Leo, Leo..." you mumble out series of gullible wordings on his name, head far too blown out to think of anything clearly. Your nails etches in his shoulder blades, making him arch under you before you lift a bounce on him, "I don't think I canâ" you feel a surge of stars clouding your sight, blurry in tears of your mixed pain and pleasure.
"I know, bebè, I know," he shudders, obvious warmth forming into hue of flames on his curls. His calloused fingers keeps your body to not fall on him, bobbing your hips up and down to his hard cock, "But you can take it, just a bit longer."
"N-No," you stagger a breath, sniffling a cry brimming in your nose, "That's notâf-fuckâ!" and that repeated slam of his cock is starting to burn your throat, the echo of skin to skin slapping is becoming a hazy sound in your ears. Yet, you're still able to comprehend one thing.
"Leo," you managed to say, although hoarse with his heat flowing inside you to the brim. "I think the condom broke."
"Oh." he blinks a thousand times.
"Oh." his eyes widens.
"Mierda," he rubs his hands on his face, as if he could wipe the embarrassment off, "Leo Valdez, eres un pervertido estĂşpido y vergonzoso." he curses under his low breath, hips surrendering to the seat. His cock warming halts inside you, unsure to succumb for release or pull out safely.
"You have another one, right?"
Leo smiles nervously.
You pick up your weight with his hands helping you lift, and the view below you is nothing short of a crumbling mess, one that arouses you even more if that's possible. The protection sure is leaking, burnt off on the top, and the tip stutters out heated slicks that shoots weakly.
So he broke it by setting the condom on fire?
Huh...
"I'll take over this time." you flick off the useless stretch of fabric, throwing it somewhere you wouldn't care where it dangles.
"Oh, dios," his breath runs shakily, eyes dilating even more when you settle above his red and bulging cock, repressed with straight up hotness in the tip. Then, with your slow movement that seems to irk him, he huffs a stagger when you sink down on him. Your nails clawing in deeper in his shoulders, and your moan bellowing deeper while you arches.
The thought of you taking him raw is already a heart arrest to his dreams, and now it's actually happening?
He can just come right on the spot immediately.
"Youâaahâare so unserious." your eyes flaps close for a brief second, soaking in the warmth he infects you by filling your entire wallsâyou're sure it moves differently now that this is the second time. More easy to slither in since your muscles probably shapes the way his cock does. "How many chances are there in the world for a condom to get burnt?"
"Not many, for sure." he knows you're probably a bit pissed off at him currently. So he attempts to goad you by his usual charming smile, pearly whites peeking through his cheer. "But, there's also minimal chances in the world to get fucked by my best friend."
At that, you stutter in your paceâthough you're quick enough to hide it by rolling your hips then jolting above him. Making him wither and whine under you.
"Leo," you call out, voice glinting low while you track the sweat and occasional sparks of pyro jumping from his skin. The linen of his abs are burning and prominent, in a way has drawn the details of each mole and hue instead of the muscle. "You sure as hell ruined a lot of things today."
Step number one on breaking down Leo Valdez's walls: challenge him to admit his own greatest fears.
"W-Whaâ" his voice is cut off when another slap of skins echo in the cramped room. His lips falls apart, unable to say any noise before he registers your nudge. "No! What do youâaah-nghâ" you are cruel. Far too cruel to test him on 'what are we?' questions and confrontations about the cross they've discarded now. Far too cruel when he can't even speak the next cue when you simply take his breath away. His cock twitching and smashing against your cervix, and youâsomehowâlooks like you can stay calm through it all while he's an absolute pathetic mess.
"First, you ruin our friendship," you hoarse out, leaning down to reach his level and near your lips to his ear. "And you acted like a self righteous bastard earlier," he gasp to the crook of your neck, gliding his hands to grasp at your torsoâcradling till your chests are mushing against one another. "You can't even control yourself not to cum like a dog in heat." you chuckle a breathless one.
Sure enough, your prediction is correct. He always burn his hair off and have his skin rise up abnormally in temperature, even his cock is searing hot in your sticky pussyâthat's the reason why he broke the protection after all. And he lets out that little broken whine, "I'm gonna, I'm gonna, fuckâmhmâgonnaâ"
His light brown eyes shoots wide.
And you lift your hips just in time when both of you resides in that sweet fulfilling pleasure, washing you in immense warmth that weakens your spine and drops your jaw. Even you can't help but whine and yield out a moan, resulting from the chaotic yet perfect sex both of you will probably only had once in a lifetime. With him. With you.
"Lo sientoâ" suddenly, through your blurry peripherals and ringing ears, a crackle of his pyro tendencies acts up out of control. You'd thought that maybe he did it on the air, on the seat, or maybe even your skin.
The radio right on the center of the headboard? It's news telling voice for a music channel blurts out in the car. The loud boom startles you till you glance at the device from your laid positionâfully on top of him. You were about to ask him how the tech device operates on its own without a brain-ware, but Leo only spouts another, "Lo sientoâ"
Right before the radio static churns off. And works of pyro-manship blurts out of the screen, burning off the screen till it's having a seizure of green screen then turning off fully.
... Seriously, is your pussy that special or something to the point he broke a condom and the frickin' radio in span of five minutes?!
"CariĂąo, I'mâ" but another thing came up to your attention, something more urgent. He may be able to suppress it at first, but after the whole degrading and bullying you did on himâit turns him into a weak pathetic disaster. Weak enough to come like a dog in heat and pathetic enough to sob into your shoulder, just like each words you spitted at him. "Gods, shit, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I just..."
Leo finally cracks, "I wanted you for so long, needed you ever since I see you laugh at my awful puns, dreamed of you ever since you argued with me and you actually made great points at thatâ" he whimpers, tightening his hold around the rib housing your frantic heart. "I was a dick, a coward for acting like I don't care about you. Like I don't think about your wellbeing more than mine. Shit, mamĂŽ, I'm just soâ"
He pulls away from your neck, glassy eyes meeting your intense ones.
"I thought," he murmurs, trying every breath he has to steady his voice while you blink at him, not in confusionâbut something borderline on reverent. "I could just ignore my heart and listen to my brain. Logic's always gonna keep you alive, so I tried to support you with your crushes, try not to think of what we could be if you can justâ" he inhales full of trembles, "Notice me."
"So, yeah," his palm, no longer abnormally till it imprints to your skin like before. It slips to your cheek like comforting warmth, like what Leo had always been to you. "I ruined our friendship," his thumb brushes against your bottom lip, but his eyes are a gentle anchor on meeting yours. "Because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody. You want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible."
He exhales like finished releasing all the weights trampled deep within his heart. Given now that you notice how it starts to slow down. Like this moment doesn't need to be dramatic or full of fireworks, it can be peaceful and calming. Especially with the previous now shifting into gentle warmth blanketing as how a cocoon would around you.
In finalization, you decide for yourself. For the hidden waves of beats that always seem synchronize with his own pulse. For how it only gets to slow down right at this moment, with him too.
"Come on up." you rise up from you position. Breaking off the silence, not out spite for the comfort or the resting chance. But for something you always wanted to say to him.
"Uh... for what?" you definitely dumbed down this man for now.
Your lips curves up a smile, as easy and genuine as the new understanding you connected in your synchronized pulses. You already finished wearing your bra properly while he's still wide eyed like a deer in headlights. "I'm taking you out on a date."
Leo getting weirdly into metal working with jewelry for the sole purpose of tying his partner up with his own hand-crafted pieces. It started with making and giving them rings, bracelets, necklaces, etc. to making and dressing them up in intricate harnesses.
i hate that stereotype of the girl who has pretty highlighted notes but is a c average student. first of all it feels a little tiny bit sexist. second of all just say you hate joy and whimsy and having fun. third of all the sharpie duo creative markers are actually very affordable and long lasting soâ
also like. maybe the colour code and the joy is the reason the grade is even a c? if making it pretty gets someone to engage with the material, make it pretty as hell!
This obviously needed its own post and here it is, a collection of blog posts and resources I have found and used for my own writing, I hope they help you too! Go forth and write that spice!
The Smut Writers Dictionary By @maybeeatspaghetti Seriously, how many different way are there to write cock? Does anyone else wonder if they've used the word 'lips' too many times? Well, this is a good place to start!
The Ultimate Guide to Writing Smut This is the first one I found and I go back to it frequently! There's also some great information about specific areas of sex that may not be common knowledge for first time writers!
How to Write Smut By @urfriendlywriter Another great source of information from different verbiage to use and a few tips to hel you along (giggity)
Smut Thesaurus By @prurientpuddlejumper just what it sounds like and you can never have too many words at your disposal.
6 Steps to Writing Better Sex By @chaoschaoswriting If you're at a loss or just want some more help this is antoher fantastic blog!
Writing Prompts NSFW By @seidenbros Need some dialogue? Or a story idea? Have a look!
#100 NSFW/Smut Dialogue Prompts By @a-cure-for-writers-block More? More. This is also a fantastic writing blog with lots to offer!
Intimate + Sexual Headcannon Questions By @petalsprompts Good questions to ask your characters to get to know them better and make more well rounded characters!
Smut & Mature (18+) Master List By @pendarling A great list dialogue prompts, scenarios, and helpful bits!
Poly NSFW Alphabet By @smaoineamhsalach Another great way to get to know your characters and maybe a handful of ideas for story ideas.
Kink Prompts Another from the previous blogger above and I didn't know what half of these are! I'll work on a kink dictionary next!
Writing Smut 101: Overcoming Smut Shame @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 There's a lot to be said for this particular subject! It's hard to write stuff like this, so how do you get over it? Start here!
How to Write a Kiss Scene By @youneedsomeprompts Yes!!! I still struggle with this one! There's a thousand ways to kiss, find your favorite!
Smut Oneliners By @deity-prompts you can never have enough one-liners!!
How to Write a (Great) Sex Scene Another great article for new smut writers
9 Tips for Writing Steamy Scenes More tips to help you wirte good steamy stuff!
How to Write Erotica and a Damn Fine Sex Scene A WEALTH if information on writing, structuring, and helpful tips!
@saradikahas a fantatic blog with graphics for you to use to add some fun to your posts. Things like MDNI Banners, 18+ Content Warnings, Support Your Favorite Writers and Reblog banners! They are free to use but she does ask that you reblog her stuff if you do! She's also a very talented writer and she writes some AMAZING Din Djarin stories!
Gay Sex Positions Guide This is a WONDERFUL adition and thank you so much @b7bubby for bringing this to my attention, I didn't have any resources for writing M/M fairings but this is a much needed addition to the spicy community! i've never written an M/M pairing and I feel like such an idiot for overlooking the need for a resource like this!
Writing the Perfect Kiss Scene provided by @writers-potiona fantastic little guide to writing better kisses!
If you find any other great smut writing resources feel free to tag me so I can add them to this list! Good luck with your writing! Now go write that story and LET THE SPICE FLOW!!!!
synopsis: you havenât seen flins in almost a week. when heâs unexpectedly taken a week off his duties, you want answers whyâthe answers come inâŚa rather interesting form. or: flins is not human, and his non human form happens to come with a rather interesting condition
word count. â¤ď¸ 10k wordsâi am speechless. truly no words
before you read. â¤ď¸ female reader ; established relationship ; fae go into ruts bc i said so ; flins has fae like features like pointy ears and wings ; he is in rut and not the right state of mind so ig slight dubcon ; dry humping + flins cumming in his pants ; flins has sensitive wings ; vaginal fingering ; mating press ; unprotected vaginal sex ; creampie ; slight breeding kink and talks of having babies ; slight size kink ; implied multiple rounds after ; not proof read pls itâs almost 7 am i wrote this in less than 24 hours cut me some slack i beg
commentary. â¤ď¸ uh yeah. anyway *jazz hands* flins fae rut. ALSO THANK YOU ARABELLA AKA USER PHAINANON FOR UR DELISHUS BRAIN FOR THE RUT CHARACTERISTICS
Kyryll is off duty for a weekâthis is what his superiors tell you when you visit the office of the division he is under, anyway.Â
That is suspiciously oddâhe is never off duty. Ever. Kyryll never gets sick, he never gets particularly badly injured, he never takes a personal day, and he never, ever, under any circumstances, takes longer than a day to contact you, regardless of how busy the wild hunt may have him. Something is wrong, and youâre worried, and you will figure it out. He needs you, probablyâhe has that annoying habit of trying to handle everything all on his own, even if it isnât always the brightest idea.Â
So you open the door to his humble little home at the bottom of the lighthouse and let yourself in. Kyryll does not ever mind. Kyryll is soft and open and gentle with you, and he does not mind if you enter his homeâ
âWhat are you doing here?â a breathless, almost pained voice all but hisses. Kyryll. His voice is never this distressedâit takes you a moment to get over the shock enough to properly turn and meet his eyes.Â
He looksâŚdistinctly inhuman. Not just inhuman, but also not himself. Apart from the pointed ears and the glow in his eyes and those bright, iridescent wings (youâll focus on that later, you decide), Kyryll is also not wearing a shirt with his hair hanging in a loose bun to keep it out of his face. He looks hot and sweaty and flushedâso unlike that typical collected, well-dressed, and polished man that you know who always runs a little cold.Â
âI was looking for you?â You blink at him as you answer like itâs obvious, âYou missed work.â
âYes. That was an intentional decision,â he says, closing his eyes and gritting his jaw. He turns away from you, as if the sight of you physically makes him sick. Youâre a little offended. âYou should not have come here.â
âWhat? I have not seen or heard from you in almost a week! How do you think it makes me feel when I have to hear from your superiors, of all people, that youâve taken a personal leave fromââ
He exhales, the sound thin and weary. âYes,â he says at last, each word carefully measured, âI took leaveâfor a reason.â
You blink at him, frowning. âAnd that reason would be?â
He closes his eyes, his jaw flexing as though heâs counting to ten in his head. âA personal one,â he replies evenly, though thereâs a faint tremor in the calm of his voice. âWhen I am ready to return, I will do so. Until then, I would be grateful if you allowed me some solitude.â
âSolitude?â you echo, incredulous. âKyryll, thatâs not how this works. You donât just vanish without a word and call it solitude. You didnât reach out, you missed work for nearly a weekâI was worried.â
âI am aware,â he says quietly, gaze lowering. âAnd for that, I apologize. It was never my intent to worry you.â
âThen what was your intent?â you demand, stepping closer as you cross your arms. âBecause you canât just disappear and expect me to act like thatâs normal.â
A muscle in his cheek twitches. Heâs clearly fighting something internal, trying desperately not to let it show. When he speaks again, his voice is soft, careful. Pleading, even. âI know what this looks like to you. I know it seems as though I am shutting you out. But pleaseâbelieve that it is not from malice or indifference. I simply cannotâŚbe as I should, not right now.â
You hesitate, your irritation giving way to confusion. âWhat does that even mean?â
âIt means,â he groans, âthat there are parts of me I would rather you never see. And those parts areâŚdifficult to keep hidden at present.â
You stare at him. You blink once, then twice, then you stare some more. âI have no idea what youâre implying, but your solution is to just lock yourself away and say nothing? That is ridiculous.â
He sighs, the sound faintly exasperated. âIt is not ideal. But it is saferâfor you, and for me.â
âAre you in danger? What is going on? Is something after you? Is it the wild hunt? Maybe we canââ
âYou need to leave,â he cuts you off. âPlease.â
That part makes you pause. He adds that last part with a broken, croaky little voiceâlike heâs begging, and itâs so bordering on pure desperation, you almost feel scared. What could possibly have happened in less than a weekâs time to make him plead not to see you? To skip work? ToâŚto look so different and not human?
Because he isnât like you. Kyryll is not human, you realize. Concern for the man you are courting has caused you to overlook that very obvious fact for a moment, but reality has dragged you back to its awful truth and slapped the cold, hard facts into your shaky little sweaty palms and said: Look, the man you think you love is not who you think he is.Â
You stare at him, the question caught somewhere between your throat and your lungs. What is he, exactly? His face looks the sameâstill that sharp-boned, beautiful thing you adore so muchâbut now, under the dim light of his living room, thereâs something wrong. Perhaps not wrong, exactly. Just...unfamiliar. His skin seems to shimmer faintly, and his eyes almost illuminate the dark around him, and his earsâhis ears are just a touch too pointed when he turns his head.
âKyryll,â you breathe, âwhatâs happening to you?â
He exhales, a sound that almost feels laced with dread. âNothing is happening to meâI am exactly as I am intended to be. Some traits that humans would consider abnormal areâŚwell, they are not so rare amongst non-humans.â
You furrow your brows. âYou mean to tell me youâre the latter?â
What a silly question, your mind hisses, what else would those features imply?
He hesitates, eyes closing as though it hurts to confess. âYou have heard before, perhaps, that Snezhnaya was once a realm of the fae,â he says softly. âA race that is no longer of any importance, but one that does exist. I am proof enough of that, simply by standing before you.â
âAnd when were you going to tell me that?â you ask, your voice trembling just slightly. You wonder what that sinking feeling in your chest isâfear, perhaps? Are you scared of him? Scared of what he is, or what he isnât? Scared that he is something else entirely, something beyond you?
No, you think faintly. Human or not, Kyryll would never hurt you. He would never let harm come your wayâcertainly not from himself. The ache that blooms inside you is not fear at all, but something heavier, deeper, more hurtful: the knowledge that Kyryll does not trust you. That he cannot bring himself to believe you would see him for what he truly is and still love himâthat your eyes would see the what of him before the who.
âMy light, it was never my intention to deceive you,â he says, pleading now. âI simply wished for more timeâto cherish you as you are before the truth mightâŚalter things between us.â
âAlter things how, exactly?â you frown. âAlter things because Iâd leave? You think I canât be trustedâis that it?â
âNo.â He smiles sadlyâa fragile little smile that still does something painful to your heart, easing and tightening it all at once. âNo, it was never that I doubted your trust,â he murmurs. âOnly whether I deserved it, once my nature was known. For that, I must apologize. I should not have hidden it from you. You are far too precious a person to entangle yourself with someone like me.â
âOh, be quiet, you fool,â you huff, stepping closer to him. You press your palm to his cheek, and he leans into the touch with a soft, startled breath. âSelf-pity will not earn you any leniency. Do not lie to me again. Understand?â
âFae cannot lie,â he smiles faintly, eyes fluttering shut as your thumb brushes his skin. âShould we attempt it, we sicken. Very gravely, in fact.â
âAh,â you nod with mock solemnity, âso youâre simply skilled in manipulation. How comforting.â
He laughs, just barelyâa sound that fades too quickly as he pulls back, though not far enough to escape your curiosity. Your hand drifts upward, fingers brushing the sharp point of his ear. He flinches.
âNowâŚis perhaps not the best moment to be touchingââ
âYou also have wings?â you interrupt in awe, gently maneuvering him to turn around. He stiffens as your finger traces delicately up his spine from the small of his back. âCan you fly?â
âNo,â he says shakily, âthey would not support my weight. They are not a particularly useful trait of the faeâmerely an aesthetic one, if anything.â
âVery aesthetical indeed,â you giggle.
âThat is not a real word,â he murmurs, closing his eyes. His breath hitches when your finger drifts to the place where the fragile wing meets his warm skin. His skin is never warm. Kyryll runs rather coldâyou complain about it often when you curl against his side. (It never stops you from cuddling him, of course, but the complaints never cease, either.)
âHm, still clinging to your extensive knowledge of words, are you?â You roll your eyes.Â
You gently rub along that small network of veins where translucent skin fades into flesh, where the shimmer of his wings dissolves against the pale slope of his back. The base of each wing seems impossibly fragileâpaper-thin, like spun glass, yet alive and keenly receptive to your touch. They rise from just below his shoulder blades, delicate membranes threaded with faint iridescence, catching the light in colors that shift like oil on water. You stare in awe at that narrow strip of skin between wing and back. Itâs softer, almost silken, and the sensation is strangeâcool, like morning dew, yet trembling with a pulse beneath your fingertips, as though burning from beneath.
The wings flutter instinctively the more your touch wanders, a tremor rippling through the transparent folds and making him flinchâa sharp breath pulled through his teeth.
âDoes that hurt?â you ask, pausing in concern.
He shakes his head, though his voice is strained when he answers. âNo. They are justâŚsensitive.â
âI see,â you breathe in fascination.Â
They are sensitiveâyou can feel it under your fingertips. His skin there runs cold, but the pulse beneath it beats hot and fast, trembling through the thin lattice of veins. The wings twitch involuntarily, like theyâre trying to fold in on themselves to escape your touch, or maybe reach for itâyou cannot quite tell. When you trace your thumb along the joint where the wing anchors to his spine again, his breath catches once more, rougher this time. The friction of your touch draws a low sound from him, half-strained, half-pleasured. The wings shiverâand then so does he.
âKyryll?â you ask softly.
He only lets out a sharp inhale in response.
âAre youâŚâ You falter. How do you even phrase it? How do you ask your boyfriendâwho has only just shared with you his origins as something not humanâthe burning question at the back of your mind? There is clearly something in his system, something woven into his bloodline, his very DNA, the framework of who he is, that makes him soâŚpent up. (That is the only phrase you can think of.) âIsâŚis there something happening with you? Biologically, at least?â
He goes still at your words. The question hangs between you with thick enough tension in the air that you feel like it physically separates you, and for a moment, he seems unable to breathe. When he finally does, itâs shallowâcareful.
âIââ His voice breaks, then steadies, smooth and practiced as though heâs forcing it into place. âThat isâŚa delicate subject.â
You take a small step back. âSorry, I wasnât trying to make you uncomfortable. I justââ
âI know.â His hand reaches and grabs yours, thumb brushing softly over your knuckles before promptly letting go. His eyes flick to yoursâbright, sharp, and mesmerizing in the low light. You wonder how you never caught on before that he could not be human. âI did not intend for you to see me in such a state. It is a rather shameful conditionâone might say it isâŚseasonal, or perhaps instinctive. A remnant of older blood. It makes my bodyâŚless easily governed.â
He swallows hard, turning his face away. The fine tremor in his wings betrays the effort it takes to keep control.
You reach out before thinking, fingers hovering over his arm. âHey,â you say quietly, âyou donât have to be ashamed. Iâm not afraid of you, if thatâs what youâre worried about.â
His laugh is soft, almost bitter. âYou should be. There are things in me, desires in me, that are notâŚproper. Not human. When such old instincts rise, I am ruled by them more than I care to admit.â
He finally meets your gaze again, and something raw flickers thereâfear, want, and the painful effort of restraint. The air between you tightens. Something shifts. Something that pulls you towards him just as fiercely as he wants to push you away. You ache to close that gap he wants so badly to put between youâa naive and optimistic thought process, perhaps. Kyryll knows himself and his state of mind better than you do.Â
He has lived through it. For hundreds of years, evidently, and you have only known him for so long. He is perhaps, wisely so, protecting you from a part of himself that requires protection against. But you donât find his warningsânor his pleas for that matterâto stay away from him until this passes worth listening to. You wonât. You canât bring yourself to.Â
He looks unwellâhe looks pained and in suffering and alone in this small, little home of his where nothing is there to ease his troubles, no one is there to ease his burdens or his aches. You take one look at that soft, rosy flush on his cheeks, the dampness of his clammy skin, the somehow even darker circles beneath his honeyed eyes, and you cannot fight the instinct in your heart that longs to take care of him however he needs it. The instinct that just as easily governs over your body against your will as Kyryllâs governs over his.Â
Love, perhaps, is what your heart would call it. Foolishness, on the other hand, is what your mind would say.Â
âIt hardly happens,â he whispers, keeping his face turned insistently away from you, âonce every decade or so, there are urgesâŚand they are not very pure in nature. I am ashamed to admit I am unable to keep from harboring improper thoughts about you, my dear. It would be in your best interest to leave before I am incapable of controlling myself any longer.â
âForgive me for being so candid,â you say with a small grin, amusement threading through your voice, âbut weâve been intimate before, you silly thing. What exactly are you trying to protect me fromâsex? Kyryll, weâve done that plenty ofââ
âNo.â His voice cuts through yours, low and sharp, carrying a kind of desperation that stills you. âThis is hardly comparable.â He turns toward you finally, and even though his expression is composed, his eyes are not. They are hungry and wild, and his pupils almost dilate at the sight of you. His wings twitch behind him, restless. âThis is not a desire one can reason with,â he continues quietly. âIt is old. It does not recognize affection or careâonly need. And I would sooner burn myself hollow than make an object of you.â
For a moment, you weigh his words. You can see how much effort it costs him to hold himself still, to speak in measured tones instead of instinct. So much care and respect are woven into that tense, agonized distance he keeps between you both as he wills himself to stand still. And you decide that you want none of it.
You do not care about his self-imposed moral limits and boundaries. He needs youâand by the Gods, you are going to give him what he needs.
âKyryll,â you say firmly, the earlier humor gone from your voice. âYou could have told me sooner.â
He closes his eyes, exhaling shakily. âAnd ruin the illusion that I am civilized?â
You shake your head, stepping closer despite his warning. âYou never needed illusions with me. I am the first person you should be able to turn to when you need somethingâwhen you need someone to take care of you.â
âYou cannot take care of me in this form,â he clicks his teeth, patience slowly wearing thin. (He is certainly not in his right mind after all, you deduceâyour Kyryll is never impatient with you. Not his usual self, at least.)
âI can,â you say stubbornly, âand I will because there is no way I am leaving you like this to sufferâso if you must use me for your own pleasure, then I think that is exactly what I will have you do because I want it of my own will. See? It is fine now, so come here andââ
âYou are playing dangerous games,â his voice is deeper, lower, almost a throaty sound that vibrates in a way youâve never heard from his usual rich, smooth, almost velvety voice. âHumans are not meant to withstand this level ofâŚdepravity that becomes my natureââ
âYou are infuriatingly stubborn,â you roll your eyes.Â
You step closer, moving to wrap your arms around his neck. He catches your wrists before you can press yourself closer against him. His grip is gentle, but his hand trembles as he holds yours. His pupils are blown wide, the faint iridescence of his eyes flickering like they are something alive, something of a soul of their own. âDo not tempt me,â he breathes. âYou do not understand what you are inviting.â
âI think I do,â you say softly. âYouâre suffering, and I wonât stand by and watch it.â
He shakes his head, his voice dropping to a low, strained murmur. âIt is not the kind of suffering you can easily mend. The endurance of a fae and that of a human areâŚnot measured in the same way.â
âIâve never been afraid of a little imbalance,â you counter, a faint smile tugging at your lips. âI like a good challenge.â For a heartbeat, neither of you moves. The air between you holds stillâtense, waiting.Â
And then he caves.
His hand rises to your jaw, tentative at first, as though heâs still convincing himself he shouldnât. But the moment his skin meets yours, all restraint shatters. Youâre pulled in for a kiss just as fervently as you lean in for one. Neither of you can say for certain who leans in firstâwho reaches for the other first. You donât think youâd ever truly know.Â
His breath his hot against your mouth, and it comes out in nothing but heavy, short puffs of air that he all but gasps for. For all his stamina as a fae that he claims to have, he seems almost out of breath from just a little kissing. Your hands wander along his back, gently rubbing against the delicate portion between skin and wings as he lets out a surprised groan of pleasure at the feeling. You giggle into his mouth as he flinches in shock from the touch.
âYou werenât lying,â you murmur into his lips, âthey really are sensitive, aren't they?â
âAmused, are we?â he huffs into your mouth.Â
âMaybe a little,â you admit cheekily. He only grunts in responseâKyryll in a rut is a Kyryll with very few words that he can articulate, you realize.Â
You feel the bulge of his cock against your thigh as he flips you around to press you against the wall, caging you with his tall, strong body as his hands desperately cup your jaw and angle your face up, kissing you with more hunger than before. Itâs hot, his erectionâyou can feel that sheer warmth of it through the fabric and layers of clothes, and itâs thick and twitching through his pants in a way youâve never felt him before, as though heâs already responding to absolutely nothing from how starved he really is for anything.Â
You move your thigh up, pressing it between his legs to slot perfectly against his crotch. He all but whimpers at the feelingâshuddering against you before his lips break away from yours and his face buries into your neck.Â
âD-donât stop,â he pleads, âmore. I needâŚmore.â
âI know,â you soothe, gently tugging the hair tie that keeps his long strands in that low bun until it frees his hair and lets it fall down his back. Your fingers stroke through them, delicately raking your nails along his scalp as you murmur, âI know, baby. You need more. Got it.â
He shivers at the pet name, and you smile fondly. You would have preferred to relieve him of such a clear ache with more gratifying methods, but Kyryll does not allow himself to detach from you long enough for you to even reach for the waistband of his pants and use your hand. Your thigh is as good as he allows you to pleasure him with the way heâs pressed so close to your personal space. You feel him grind against it with his own pace, meeting your movements halfway as he chases the friction against his hardened cock.Â
When your fingers move back to his back, tracing the sensitive little networks of veins along the base of his wings, he groans into your neck, biting into your skin hard enough that it stings just a little.Â
âDoes it feel good when I touch here?â You press gently into the base of his wing for emphasis.Â
He lets out a soft, breathless, almost whiny sound as he nods shakily. âY-yes,â he swallows thickly, âveryâŚvery good.â
âHow cute,â you giggle. âYou are so cute.â
âMâclose,â he gasps, âsoâŚso, so close.â
âAlready?â you blink in shockâyouâve really only hardly begun, âbut weââ
You donât even get to finish your thoughts before the sound of his voice, gravelly and thick with pleasure, cuts you off.Â
âF-fuck, IâŚIâm s-sorry,â he slurs his words incoherently, ââmâŚc-cummingââ
You feel the familiar rush of warmth as he spills into his pants. (Kyryll has only cum in his pants once beforeâone night after he had a glass of wine too many, and youâd dragged your aching core against his own throbbing sensation between his legs as you shifted on his lap between kisses. It was cute thenâseeing the adorable pinkness on his cheeks as heâd stuttered an apology. You enjoyed the slightly damp feeling of his release against your leg.)
But this timeâŚitâs a little different. He absolutely soils his own clothes as much as yours. You can tell that much just seconds into his orgasmâthe sheer amount of his seed that seeps through the fabric of his pants and dampens yours has you shocked. ItâsâŚa lot. More than normal. More than you thought possible. Clearly not a very human amount, considering he isâŚwell, very much not human. But you try your best to keep the steady rhythm of your thigh grinding against his crotch since he has stopped moving himself in favor of stillingâhis body is taut and stiff as he shudders through every wave of his high, gasping into your neck and letting out choked moans against your skin.Â
âS-sorry,â he rasps, âI did notâŚI had not meant to tarnish your c-clothes withânghââÂ
He cuts his own sentence off with a low grunt as another thick, warm rope of cum spills from the head of his swollen cock. You shake your head in response to his apologyâhe does not need to apologize, you tell him softlyâbefore gently rubbing his back as he rides out the last final waves of his orgasm. (Itâs a long wave of pleasureâyouâve witnessed Kyryll fall apart quite a few times before. You like to consider your intimate life a display of healthy passion. Itâs never lasted like this before, thoughâyou donât think you would forget it if youâd witnessed that sort ofâŚwell, spectacle seems not the kindest word for it. But itâs certainly a sight, that much is undoubtedly true. You decide not to comment on it for the sake of his feelings, howeverâyou do not wish to embarrass him any further.)
âItâs okay,â you smile into his temple as you kiss it, âI donât mind. Clothes can be washed, you know, silly.â
He pants into your neck, catching his breath for a brief moment before he reluctantly peels himself away from you. His face is even more flushedâhis skin is practically glowing, and his wings seem even brighter as they droop into his back almost self-consciously. He doesnât dare meet your eyes, as if his moment of self-indulgence is too shameful a scene for him to make peace with. You can practically hear his thoughts without him saying themâhumping against your leg like that is the least dignified thing a man could do to the woman he cares for. Utterly unrefined and uncouth, and lacking in respect.Â
You sigh, reaching to cup his cheek. âHey,â you whisper gently, âdonât worry too much. Do you feel better now?â
He looks at you miserably. Itâs only then does your gaze wander a little lowerâŚand you realize that he is still hard. Very, very, very hardâin fact, you donât think it ever stopped despite the way he clearly came undone just a moment ago.Â
âOh,â you breathe.
ââŚAs you can see,â he says shakily, âthis is not a problem that will resolve itself any time soon. Not even with your best efforts, Iâm afraid.â
âSo you need a few more rounds,â you shrug. He looks utterly horrified by your phrasing, which only makes you grin a little before you reach out to poke the tip of his nose affectionately. âI think I can handle that, babyââ
âNo.â His voice sharpens, though thereâs still that tremor of restraint beneath it. âYou have already done far more than I deserve, my light. I will tend to the rest on my own. You should goâfor your own sake, if not for mine. Though it pains me to watch you leave, it is the wisest course until I have recovered from thisâŚcondition of mine.â
âIâm not leaving,â you frown, your tone firm and unyielding.
He exhales, long and weary. âYou are impossibly stubborn. Funny that you would have accused me of being just that, not too long ago.â
âIâm not!â you protest. âLook at youâyou look like youâre in pain.â
âIf you would kindly refrain from voicing such mortifying observations aloud,â he says with a tired sigh, âit would preserve what fragile shred of dignity I still possess, my dearest.â
You roll your eyes fondly.Â
You and Kyryll are an oddly functioning couple. You only just started calling him by his first name a few weeks ago. Before that, he was simply Flins. Mister Flins, before that, when he was just a ratnik who had saved you from a creature of the wild hunt.Â
Do be careful when you wander at night, Miss, he had said politely.Â
And then he had been off on his way. You run into him time and time and time and time again after that. Itâs an odd way the world works, you like to thinkâhow you can meet someone so often after one encounter when just days before, youâd never been aware of their existence. How they can bleed into everything you know so suddenly, like theyâd been there this entire time, even when youâd known nothing of them for so long. Your usual places, your usual routes and paths, your usual stops. All of them have been the same for long enough that you wonder if perhaps they have merged with your cells and become part of who you are.Â
The one thing that was never there before was him. And then, as if the Gods had willed it, he was. Always, in every corner, it was Mister Flins.Â
How funny of a way the world works that things are thrust into your small bubble against your will, invading the tiny space of what you know and becoming one with all the things you hold dear.Â
Mister Flins at the market buying spices at the same time as you. Mister Flins walking down the same path as you are as he makes his way to his superiorâs office. Mister Flins in the area to fix some broken part of his lamp. Mister Flins and a drink he asks to grab with you when you both happen to be free. Flins after thatâhe asks you kindly to drop the Mister. Flins and a nice dinner that he offers the bill for instantly. Flins at your place of work to escort you home in the eveningâitâs dark out, you know, Miss. Flins in your kitchen as you make lunch while heâs in the area. Flins and that coat of his that he likes to drape over your couch when heâs here to stay for a while. Flins when you wake up in the morning, and heâs still there, tangled in the sheets with you. Flins who asks you to call him Kyryll, if you would acceptâitâs only fair that two people who are courting use their proper names.Â
How long of a way you have comeâfrom calling him Mister and hoping if you might ever run into him again, to whispering Kyryll like itâs a prayer and letting yourself into his home as you please. How far of a way you still have to goâhe is still too embarrassed to be open with the physical desire that consumes him so wholly despite being intimate with you so many times before.Â
You wonder if a decade from now, Kyryll will warn you in advance that he will experience this same thing once more. If this time, instead of hiding from you, he might ask you to help him, take care of him. If heâll trust you and put aside his composure and be fragile in your hands, so that you can carefully curl your hand and cup him in there, keeping him tucked into your hold, protected from the world.Â
You sigh, shaking your head in fondness before you gently murmur, âIf you would just shove aside your pride for a moment and understand that I do not find shame in your nature, then perhaps we might both have an enjoyable time. I donât dislike being intimate with you, you knowâit isnât as though itâs a chore for me.â
He swallows, mulling over your words before his shoulders ease. A loose, breathless chuckle slips past his lips. âYou are remarkably eager to bed me, my love.â
âDonât be so smug,â you scoff, stepping toward him as your arms curl around his neck.Â
He hums, burying his face into the juncture between your neck and shoulder and inhaling deeply, breathing in the scent of you. You can still feel the throbbing length tucked away in his tight pantsâbut you let him set his own pace for how he wants to do this. This is about him, you remind yourself, him and hisâŚwhatever this fever is called that has consumed him and turned him into a sexual-haze induced version of himself with mythical features you did not think people of this world could possess.Â
You hesitate, voice gentle. âSoâŚis this basicallyâŚlike a rut or something?â
Kyryll stills, then exhales slowly against your skin. His laugh is quiet, resignedâthe sound of a man who has given up on maintaining dignity. âIf you insist on using such a barbaric term, then yes,â he murmurs, voice low and rueful. âIt is something akin to that.â
âAh,â you nod, trying not to grin. âGood to know.â
He lifts his head, eyes narrowing in faint amusement. âI can feel you laughing at me.â
âI would never,â you lie, smiling sweetly. Silence lingers for a beat before your curiosity wins out. âBut waitâhow come I never see your features like this? The ears, the wingsâŚâ your gaze drifts downward and back up again, âIâve seen you naked plenty before, and those wings definitely werenât there then.â
A soft sigh escapes him as he closes his eyes, the faintest trace of embarrassment lacing his tone. âI can usually hide them,â he admits quietly. âMost of my kind evolved to conceal the traits that set us apart. The wings, the earsâI have learned to keep them hidden away to pass unnoticed among humans.â His wings twitch faintly behind him, betraying his irritation. âBut in this stateâŚâ his voice roughens slightly, âI cannot maintain that restraint. They emerge on their own.â
You hum thoughtfully. âSo your wings come out when youâre horny.â
He groans, shoulders slumping. âYou do have an unmatched talent for vulgar phrasing, my light.â
âI like to think itâs one of my more endearing qualities,â you grin, brushing a fingertip along the curve of his ear until he shivers. âDonât you?â
He gives you a lookâhalf exasperation, half resigned fondness. âEndearing is one word for it,â he murmurs dryly. âThere are others I might choose.â
âCharming? Irresistible? The light of your lonely, dark little life?â you suggest, all innocent eyes.
âInsufferable,â he says immediately.
You press a hand to your chest in mock offense. âYou wound me. Truly, so mean.â
âYouâll recover.â His lips twitch, betraying amusement. âYou always do.â
You grin wider, leaning closer so your noses almost brush. âOnly because I am so fond of you. The things I endure in order to love you are what some might consider horrors, you know.â
âIâve watched you survive far worse than my teasing,â he replies, arching a brow. You hum thoughtfully.Â
âTrue,â you whisper as you bite back a grin, âso surely, I can handle you when you are not entirely yourself.â
He exhales, a sound caught somewhere between a sigh and a laughâsoft, endeared. âIncorrigible,â he murmurs, though the word loses its bite when you rise on your toes and press your lips to his.
The kiss starts tentative, almost cautious. You test the waters, and he trembles faintly against you, as though afraid he might hurt you just by touching. But when you tilt your head and draw him closer by the back of his neck, that restraint begins to crack. His hands find your waist, firm yet so achingly soft the way that Kyryll always is, and he kisses you againâdeeper this time. Harder. Like he means it. The kind of kiss that steals the breath right out of your lungs as he inhales it for himself.
You feel his heartbeat where your palms rest against his bare chest, and the faint shiver of his wings brushing against your hands as they travel from his sternum to his back. When you part for air, he rests his forehead against yours, his breath uneven, the tips of his pointy, adorable little ears flushed a faint shade of rose.
âAre you sure?â he whispers, his voice hoarse with longing.
âPositive,â you breathe, brushing your thumb over his lower lip. He presses a kiss to the pad of your finger before nodding.Â
âYouâll try to stop me if itâs too much? Perhaps we should keep something heavy nearby so you may hit me if I do not listen to reasonâI will certainly survive the blow andââ
âI am not hitting your head, Kyryll,â you gape, âand Iâm not backing out, either. Now fuck meâI want you.â
âMust you say it just like that?â he asks tiredly.Â
You giggle, nodding as you murmur, âHow else will I prove my enthusiasm to feel you?â
That seems to undo him completely. He looks at you for a momentâgood and long and hard before he kisses you again. This time, itâs with the kind of fervor that feels almost desperate now, stumbling a little as you both move in a tangle of limbs through the quiet rooms of his home. His hand stays at the small of your back, guiding you blindly toward the bedroom, though his mouth never leaves yours for long.
The journey there is clumsy and impatientâyou nearly trip over a low stool in your rush, and he catches you with a low laugh that melts against your lips. His wings flutter, brushing against furniture, fragile things trembling with the same tension that threads through his entire body. He moans into your mouth every few moments, unable to keep his usual composure and bite back the sounds. You like this version of Kyryllâthe version that makes his pleasure a loudly known fact rather than a politely kept secret.Â
By the time your knees hit the edge of his bed, heâs panting harshly, worked back up to impatience for release as his body burns with tension.
âThis is your last chance to leave while you easily can, you know,â he says lowlyâhis voice thick, hoarse, and edged with something that no longer sounds entirely human. Each word rasps as though dragged through gravel, deeper and rougher than before, echoing faintly in his chest before reaching you. The sound sends a shiver down your spineânot from fear, but from the strange, thrilling feeling of want piercing through your spine.Â
You meet his gaze steadily. âIâm not backing out,â you say, your voice so firm and sure.
He closes his eyes, jaw tightening as though your words physically pull at the fraying thread of his control. âYou do not understand what you invite, my light.â
âI donât want to understand,â you whisper, reaching for him, âI just want you.â
His breath stutters at the touch. For a moment, he seems frozen, torn between his care for you and his instinct of desire. Thenâas if his biology finally wins overâwhatever fragile barrier heâs built around himself shatters. The sound that escapes him is low, almost feral, but still unmistakably him.Â
âI told you,â he says gruffly, âI will not be guided by my affections. Yet you insist so firmly to see a version of me that only fucks you with instinct aloneâis that what you truly want? A man as depraved and senseless as this? What little regard for your fragile, human body,â he chuckles.Â
His mouth claims yours before you can replyâhard and bruising and all teeth, filled with a relentless urgency. You gasp, arching into his touch as his large, impatient hands tug you closer by your clothes. (So this is what he meant, you thinkâKyryll is utterly lacking in his typical gentleness. Noâin fact, his gentleness is completely gone.)
Your clothes are torn off in a swift motion. He does not bother disrobing you, does not bother taking his time to admire you, or tease you, or simply just bask in the moment of being so intimately close to you. Instead, he grabs the fabric with a rough hand, pulls with more force than youâve ever seen from him, and tears the fabric without remorse. You gasp at the sight of it being completely irreparable.Â
âKyryll!â you hiss, âsoiling clothes is one thing, but destroying them is an entirely separateââ
âEnough,â he cuts in, voice low and edged. âThey were in my way. I will not waste time with trivial barriers.â
You shiver at the sound of such a rough tone in his voice. Long gone is the delicate, well-mannered, and well-spoken man you knowâlong gone is his patience and sweetness and lingering precision in everything he does.Â
His hands squeeze at your hips in appreciation as he marvels at the sight of your curves and bare skin. âMmh, and to think I was going to deny myself such a splendid giftâwhere such patience had graced me, even I myself cannot tell. No matterâI will make the most of such a wonderful blessing.âÂ
Youâre drippingâhis words alone, his sheer desire to use you alone, have made the ache between your legs worsen, and the pool of slick collecting there does the same. It coats your inner thighs, and when he roughly spreads your legs apart, humming at the sigh of your bare cunt, you whimper.Â
âWhat a sight,â he groans, âI cannot wait until I am buried in the warmth of such a beautiful, perfect cunt.â
He is much less hesitant to use filthier words, too, you realize. And less focused on you and your pleasure as his fingers sink past the velvety walls of your pussy, curling deep into that spongy, sensitive spot that makes you mewl. Nothing about this is gentle. Nothing about it is thoughtful and giving and filled with adoration like Kyryll always is when he beds you. Nothing about it puts your pleasure above all else and does it for the sole purpose of making you feel good and feel his devotion.Â
No. Instead, Kyryll fucks his fingers into you because he needs you prepped and ready to take his cock. He also wants to feel the warmth of your walls flutter around his fingers because his mind is in a filthy haze. You can tell because the way he groans as his fingers pump into you, scissoring and stretching you open, has nothing to do with the way you gasp and twitch from pleasure, but everything to do with the wet, squelching sound he hears and that shiny, messy essence that he sees coating his fingers.Â
âSo warm,â he moans, âhow long before I can sink the entirety of my cock into such a perfectly awaiting pussy, I wonder.â
âK-Kyryll, pleaseââ
âSay that again,â he demands, âsay my name like that again. Say it.â
âKyryll,â you sob brokenly. His fingertips are so cruel, slamming and curling into that sensitive spot so rough and fast, so impatient to get you gushing around him so that you are ready to take his cock with ease. âMâgo-gonnaâŚgonna cumâfuck!â
âThere it is, my dove,â he smiles, pleased. âI knew you would do wellâafter all, you always give me just what I want, donât you? Itâs what you know best, isnât it? Such a good, obedient human.âÂ
Your orgasm doesnât last longâitâs not like the usual sort of high Kyryll coaxes out of you. Itâs not soft and prolonged and doesnât make you slip into a hazy, blissful state that makes you feel like youâre floating. Instead, it all but makes you black out, a wave of pleasure that absolutely wrecks you and shocks your body right to its core. Itâs impatient and fast, and when you come down from the split second of pure white-hot pleasure, he is already there, studying your fluttering walls and humming in approval.Â
âI think you are sufficiently ready, donât you think, my dear?â he all but growls.Â
You watch deliriously as he unzips his pants, quickly shrugging them and his boxers off in a swift movement and freeing his cockâand oh. You have seen his cock. You have taken his cock down your throat and deep in your walls, and youâve felt the weight of it in your hand. You are not a stranger to the sight of Kyryllâs cock, but you are a stranger to his version of itâthe version of it that has thicker veins that are practically glowing along the side of his length. The version of it that has messy, runny, iridescent pre cum leaking from the tip and coating his pink, flushed cockhead. The version of it that looks even bigger and thicker, and longer than you remember it.Â
You gasp at the sheer sight of it, instinctively pressing your thighs together inâŚin what? You do not even know. In fear? In excitement? In need of relief at the sheer excitement it sends through your aching core, or in need of a break before youâve even begun from the sheer size of it that will surely break you.Â
âOh my god,â you whisper, âoh my god, itâŚitâs not going to fit,â you shake your head. âK-Kyryll, youâllâŚyouâll break me.â
âWill I?â he chuckles, slightly mocking as he leans down and presses a flurry of kisses along your jaw, sucking and biting at your skin before he makes his way to your neck and inhales the scent of you once more. It occurs to you then that perhaps the scent of you has only been driving him more mad this whole timeâthat with the way heâs taken every opportunity to sniff at your skin, he must be absolutely overwhelmed by the scent of you. âI specifically remember you saying you would not mind doing this with me and that it was not a chore. Why the sudden change of heart?â
âL-look at theâŚthe size ofâŚof it!â you stutter, âthat is not what it usually is!â
âWe will easily make it fit, my dove,â he hums, ânot to worry. There is no doubt that this pretty cunt will open up nice and slowly for meâafter all, she is a good, good girl, isnât she?â
He traces a thumb over your clit as he says thatâand when you whine, jolting from the touch, he chuckles in a sick, almost twisted form of amusement. Without warning, he grabs a leg, hooking it over his shoulder as his hand squeezes the meat of your thigh and groans.Â
âYou were made for my taking,â he says, staring at your body as though heâs in a heavy trance. His eyes are wide and dilated, unfocused and almost wild as he rakes them over every section of bare skin he can. âI am going to take great pleasure in feeling the tight warmth of you wrapped around meâwhat a wonderful fate life has granted me, indeed.â
With that, he leans down to hover over you, and the knee tossed over his shoulder bends and practically meets your chest as he closes the gap and kisses you roughly. The thick, blunt head of his cock meets the entrance of your cunt, pushing past the folds slowly, carefully for a moment that you almost think that this is your Kyryllâthe Kyryll that you know and love.Â
But then, with a rough snap of his hips, heâs pressed a good amount of his length into you, stretching you with a burning girth that makes you cry out in a sharp mewl. âT-too much, baby,â you sob, âw-waitââ
âYou can take it, my dear,â he insists, kissing away the tears with chapped, warm lips that feel nothing like the usual soft and cool ones youâre used to. You hardly recognize the man who is taking you, and yetâŚand yet, you cannot help but fall in love even deeper with him in this state. Every fiber of your existence should scream to run, but instead, they long to be intertwined with him. Threaded into the very fibers of his own existence, living tangled and one with him.Â
Heâs right. You can take himâand you do. He snaps his hips one more time and buries the rest of himself into you, completely down to the hilt and completely filling you up until you feel almost certain that you can feel him in your throat and lungs.Â
âS-so big,â you gasp, trying to adjust to the sheer size of him as your walls flutter around the intrusion of his thick, swollen cock. He groans, wings fluttering behind him impatiently as he waits for you to give the signal that youâre ready for him to moveâhe still has enough sense in his system for that much kindness. âS-so full, babyâmâso full.â
âYes,â he says hoarsely, âwhat a sweet, precious girl, you areâtaking me so well. Such a darling light I have that takes me so well and doesnât complain. I simply adore you, my dove.â
You mewl at the praise, clawing at his back with your nails as you pull him closerâand impatiently, with a jolt of your hips, you plead, âM-move! Move, pleaseâŚneed to feel you so bad.â
Your hands rub along his backâand without the same careful, gentle precision as before, you rub at the base of his wings, too. Friction at the delicate, sensitive, almost painful nerve-endings at his wings that respond to your touch by twitching harshly. He lets out a gasp, jolting with a low, drawn-out moan that is obscenely loud. Obscene. Kyryll is never much of an obscene sight even in the throes of pleasure, but you suppose such a frenzied, desperate state of mind would make him prioritize his composure last.Â
âF-fuckâI told you, those are sensitive,â he hisses, âyouâŚyou cannot simply just touch and feel them as you please unless you want toââ
You lean up and bite at his earlobe, effectively cutting him off as his breath gets caught in his throat. You hear the hitch before you whisper into the shell of his pointed ear, âKyryll, just fuck me already. What in the Gods' names are you waiting for?â
That makes something in him snap. Something carnal and hungry and desperate andâŚso far gone in his desires, it almost feels animalistic. His hips snap, harsh and fast, and nudge his cock deeper and deeper past your folds, pressing effortlessly against that sensitive, delicate spot in the back of your walls. Your Kyryll usually knows where that spot is; he usually aims his thrusts to kiss that spot with the blunt head of his cock purposely.Â
This Kyryll doesnât try. He doesnât even think to find your pleasure points, drilling his aching length and chasing the warm friction of the tight walls that surround him without a thought. It just so happens that naturally so, with the sheer size and girth of him, with the perfect curve of cock, he manages to find that spot anyway.Â
âFuck,â he groans, ânghâyou are soâŚso soft. So exquisite and warm and so fucking tight.â
Your legs wrap around his hips, bracing yourself for every forceful, heavy snap of his hips. Itâs fast and rough and impatient. Itâs everything your Kyryll is not. Itâs hungry and mad and vulgar. Thereâs a filthy squelching sound that mixes in with both of your pleasured soundsâa wet, filthy one that comes from skin slapping on skin and the way his cock slips in and out of your dripping cunt.Â
âIâll fill you up,â he says lowly, âthere is a perfect little womb right here,â his large hand presses against your belly, applying light pressure against it as he thrusts into you, making you wail. âAnd I intend to make good use of it. I will fill this womb up with my seed over and over againâuntil it takes. However many times I must, I will. Until you are swollen with a child that will have both the bloodline of a fae and a delicate little human.â
âP-pleaseââ
âIs that what you want?â He coos, âto have a child you can bear with half of me and you? Perhaps my eyes? Your smile? Is that what my darling little human wants?â
âY-yes,â you sob, âyes, yesâplease!â
âThen far be it from me to deny such a precious request,â he hums.Â
You moan into his mouth as he kisses you roughly. A messy dance of tongue and teeth and hot breath that you exchange between heavy panting. One hand tangles in his hair and tugs, and the other alternates between scratching into his back and rubbing over those delicate nerves at the base of his wings. You feel him jolt every time you trace themâfeel him let out a tiny whimper into your mouth when your thumb catches over a particularly delicate membrane that makes his whole body shudder.Â
âOh,â he groans roughly, âIâmâŚIâm c-closeâsoâŚso tight. Itâs neverâŚitâs never felt like this before.â
For a fleeting moment, you wonder what he means by thatâheâs fucked you plenty of times before. Plenty of times, heâs felt the slick tightness of your cunt and the warm walls that wrap around him invitingly. ThenâŚthen it occurs to you that perhapsâŚperhaps this is the first time Kyryll has ever fucked somebody at all during a rut. Perhaps he has never had the company of another while he locks himself away in his home.Â
Perhaps, all these years, heâs had nothing but the frustrating company of his own hand against his cock, a limited and lonely form of relief for that awful, throbbing ache between his legs. You imagine itâthe sight of him sprawled on his bed, bare and sweaty and painfully erect. The sight of his fist stroking his cock and squeezing at the base while he bites the palm of his hand and chokes on sounds he tries to suppress. The sight of him spilling into his hand and feeling the tremors of his pleasure all alone with no one to whisper sweet nothings to him as he comes down from the high.Â
What a lonely, awful way it must have been to ease his aches. What a lonely, awful fate he was so willingly to resign himself to again before you had wormed your way into his home and demanded an explanation from him. A part of you knows he had done it mainly out of fearâfear of hurting you and losing control. Fear of slipping too far in his desires and taking it further than he would ever dream of, and causing you harm.Â
But another part of you wonders if Kyryll is just too used to being alone. If his mind and body are accustomed to being alone during something like this, that even when his body craves the heat and closeness of someone else, even when his mind has envisioned you in less than proper ways, like heâs said himself, he is too ingrained in the habit of being alone. Being far, far away from others and handling things alone. Being far, far away from you when he thinks himself to be a burden who does not deserve your closeness or your care or your intimacy.Â
And you donât like it. You donât want his mind to think that way on default and put space between you when all you want is to be nestled into his skin and make home in his ribcage. Youâre safest thereâhe would protect you with his bones and shatter them first before anything would harm you. You know that.Â
And you want to take care of him. See the less than human parts and make them feel welcome in this big, large world where there is room for both of you to exist with your differences.Â
âHave you ever fucked someone like this, Kyryll?â You whisper, âWhen your body is flushed and warm like this? Has anyone touched these cute little wings of yours as you fucked your load into them? Held you as you come undone? Thatâs what you deserve, donât you think?â
Filthy. Thatâs how you make him feel. Thatâs how he makes you feel, too. Even when you are being sweet, you are both downright, purely filthy.Â
âNo,â he rasps, âfuckâno, I havenât. Iâve neverâŚn-never had someone before you forâŚfor this.â
âSo Iâm your first proper rut, is that it?â You manage to giggle even through his ruthless, heavy thrusts. Even as he bullies his cock into your folds as deep as itâll go, you find a way to tease and mock him.Â
(And he likes it. There is, undeniably, a part of him that excites when you do. Otherwise, you wouldnât feel him twitch inside of your cunt like that.)
âYes,â he groans loudly, dizzy with pleasure as you squeeze around him, âyesâŚmy firstâŚfirst proper one.â
His hips stutter for a moment as he says the wordsâlike heâs mulling them over and pondering on the implications of them before suddenly, your other leg is thrown over his shoulder and you cannot help but squeal in shock from the force of his body maneuvering yours. He folds you in half, and your knees are almost pressed to your chest.Â
He rolls his hips in quick, impatient thrustsâsloppy in rhythm and no longer as deliberate as they once were in pace. Heâs close. This Kyryll is so, so different from your Kyryll, but heâs still the same. You recognize the patterns as they come. That slack jaw and those eyes that flutter shut and roll to the back of his head. The deep, heavy breaths and the low, raspy grunts. The familiar way his pace becomes messy and less rhythmic as he tries to grind into you and chase the friction. And finally, the small, little twitch his cock does before he spills into you. Itâs warmâso fucking warm and thick, and it fills you up from just a few ropes.Â
âMâc-cumming,â he says hoarsely, so fragile and broken as pleasure bleeds through his veins and shoots along his nerves. âSoâŚso good, loveâyou always feel so good.â
Just like the first time he came in his pants right against your legs, he spills more seed than you ever imagined possible. It paints your walls white, and he does a careful job of fucking the load into you as it spills, never stilling for a second. You can feel it leaking from your foldsâthereâs a mess of his cum and your slick leaking past your folds and coating your inner thighs, dripping along your skin.Â
He watches, mesmerized.Â
And when a particularly sharp thrust lands, you follow him as you fall off the edge and go hurtling into your own pleasure. Itâs dizzying. Heâs never stretched you like thisâyouâve never felt veins this thick rub against your walls and drag along with such sickening friction. When you cum, you cum hardâharder than you ever have on his cock. You squeeze around him, milking him of the last of his thick ropes of cum and making sure he gives you everything he can.Â
âKyryll,â you gaspâyou chant it a few more times as you ride out the final waves of your high, unable to form anything else but the thought of his name. âOh,â you breathe, âfuck.â
He slumps over you as he finishes, catching his breath in the crook of your neck. His wings tremble faintly before folding closed, and for a long moment, the only sound is his heavy breathing and the faint hum of his heartbeat against your chest.
When he finally speaks, his voice is still rough, still deep and throaty. âI did warn you,â he murmurs, lips brushing your skin. âI told you I lose myself in this state. You insisted on testing me.â
You hum, utterly unbothered, fingers lazily combing through his damp hair. âLose yourself? That was you losing control? I must say, I expected something a little moreâŚdramatic.â
He lifts his head, giving you a look equal parts disbelief and exhaustion. âYou have the audacity to critique my performance?â
âIâm just saying,â you tease, grinning, âfor all that talk about feral instincts and uncontrollable urges, you were still very polite about it. You even romantically asked to start a family with me.â
A huff of laughter escapes him despite himself. âYou mock me even now?â
âOnly because itâs easy,â you grin, kissing his cheek. âAll that talk, and youâre already out of breath.â
A low, breathless hum escapes him. âNo need to worry,â he murmurs, voice rougher than usualâand you feel the familiar twitch of his cock. Still hard and still swollen inside you. âWe still have a long way to go before my desires are satisfied. I hope youâre prepared.â
You tilt your head back to meet his gaze, eyes widening a fraction. âOhâŚhow long?â
Kyryll smirksâthat infuriating, elegant smirk that makes you weak-kneed. âWell,â he begins, voice dipping, âI did say that fae have a lot of stamina.â
âWellâŚâ you murmur, looking at him with defiant eyes. âI still think I can handle that.â
He groans, teeth grazing the shell of your ear, âWe shall see,â he rasps, âbecause I am not finished with you yet.â
