Could you make an s/o who loves to kiss Sunday and Robin's wings?
I love your work ❤️
Feather Light Kisses
Tags: Sunday x Reader, Robin x Reader, Wing kisses, Fluff, Ticklish Wings, Established Relationship, Soft Moments, Comforting Affection, Flustered Sunday!!, Sensitive Wings, Headcanons, Tender Moments, Shy & Blushing Halovian Siblings.
Warnings: Fluff, Sensitive Wings, Brief Mentions Of Sadness
A/N: I'm well, and I hope you are too!! Btw (≧▽≦) THIS IS SO CUTEE!!
Sunday’s usually so composed and dignified, but when it comes to your affection for his wings, even he finds himself getting flustered. The first time you asked to see his wings up close, he was surprised but agreed, not expecting you to run your fingers over them so softly or lean in to press a gentle kiss.
His wings are soft and incredibly sensitive to touch. When you start kissing along the edges, he can barely keep his usual calm, especially since your kisses send little shivers down his spine.
He tries to hide the ticklish effect it has on him, biting back a laugh and doing his best to maintain composure. However, his wings twitch and tremble under each gentle kiss you place on them.
At times, you’ll catch him smiling shyly, a rare sight, as his golden eyes warm with affection. Sunday might pretend he’s not affected, giving you a soft “Are you done, love?”—but you can see the pink on his cheeks and the way he closes his eyes in contentment when you continue.
Whenever he’s had a rough day, one way you calm him is by sitting with him, softly stroking and kissing his wings, which helps him relax more than he’d like to admit. In those moments, he feels grateful, not only for the soothing gesture but for the quiet understanding and love you bring him.
Robin’s wings are breathtakingly beautiful, with an almost ethereal shimmer, their hues mirroring the lilac and violet colors of her outfit. When you touch or kiss them, her wings flutter slightly, making her giggle softly, and you can tell she’s not used to anyone showing them this kind of affection.
Her wings are a little ticklish, and it doesn’t take much for her to smile or laugh softly under your touch. When you kiss the edges, her cheeks flush with a rosy hue, and she finds herself blushing at how tenderly you treat her.
Whenever she’s feeling overwhelmed or weighed down by memories of her past, your kisses and soft touches to her wings bring her back to a place of comfort and calm. She feels safe and loved, the ticklish sensation lifting her spirits and helping her forget her sorrows, even if just for a moment.
She often tries to hide the shivers that your kisses bring, but the way her wings tremble is a clear giveaway of how much she enjoys it. Sometimes, she’ll playfully nudge you with one of her wings, teasing you about being her “favorite admirer.”
Robin adores when you lean close and murmur sweet things against her wings, then press your lips gently to them. It’s become her favorite way to unwind, and she often finds herself humming softly in response, almost as if to thank you for the gentle, loving affection you always show her.
We were just hanging out in his bedroom, more or less just making out. This time he appeared a bit closer to how I usually see him. Long black hair, blue eyes. He also had wings this time, massive black, iridescent, raven like wings, I believe four or six in total. And they were sort of cocooning around us. I told him they were very pretty.
After a while I asked him, “entirely hypothetically, in some fantasy situation , if I ever decided to leave you, would you try to win me back or let me go?”
And he sort of furrowed his brow at that question. “Hypothetically.” I repeated.
“I suppose it would depend on the reason and how strong your convictions were.” He answered kind of flatly.
“What if it was something like paranoia?”
“I would try to help you but I could not force you to be near me.”
“What if I genuinely was just over you?”
And now he sort of glares, “I might be tempted to try, but in all honesty I’d probably be too heart broken and stubborn to try and reconvince you to be with me. So I would probably let you go.”
“What if I returned, would you accept me?” I asked.
“Again, it depends. But probably, if you truly wanted me back. I think I’d have a hard time refusing.”
I nodded. Makes sense.
“And what about you? What if one day I told you we’ve met the end of the line? What would you do?” He then asked me.
“I too would be heart broken. But I would probably continue to worship and honour you, more so just as a fan and not as your lover. I’d be hurt but I don’t think it would make me stop going down this path unless you really hurt me intentionally.”
“Even if I wasn’t responding, you would still keep my altar?”
“Probably. Your altar is really pretty and I enjoy having it. All the things you make me do are things I enjoy, so I wouldn’t want to stop even if you weren’t participating anymore.”
He smiled and hummed, liked that answer. I sort of started stroking his wings in response, and he let out another hum, more like a moan this time, and I was startled.
“Oh that’s real nice,” he said. And I was like ?
“Do you like it when I touch your wings?”
And he smiled wider, gave me an almost drunken look.
“Oh I like it quite a lot, baby.”
I started doing it more. Like this? And he shuttered like a tickle went up his back. He almost seemed to like it more than me touching his body. Moved my hand to the underside of his wing, rolled his eyes back like he was getting off. Oh. This is something.
“What does it feel like?” I asked. And he chuckled.
“You should look up a fun fact about birds,” he replied, and at the time I was sort of confused. He stretched out his wings in a way, they twitched when I touched them, like they were sensitive.
I don’t know why I didn’t clock it then because I know this. Pretty sure some birds will get sexually stimulated if you touch their underside of their wings too much. I did not think such a thing would apply to him. But he obviously really really liked that.
He whimpers, reaching back to rub at his wing joint. Ow...it didn’t actually hurt, he wasn’t that pathetic. There was something else wrong, old memories trudging back up.
Pairing: Red/Edge (Reborntale)
Kink: Wing play
Other notes: sensitive wings are a thing.
Ao3 Link
Sans was always fascinated by the light that always seemed to shine from Papyrus’ wings. There always seemed to be this odd glow from the red wings; odd color for an angel, but Papyrus was unlike any angel that the demon had ever met.
That was probably what attracted him so much in the first place.
“Sans, what are you doing?” Papyrus asked sleepily.
Papyrus didn’t sleep often, but Sans always took full advantage when he was and took the time to admire his large, fluffy wings.
But this time, the angel woke up as Sans was stroking down the long line of bones from which the feathers sprouted.
“You’re dreamin’,” Sans tried.
The angel glanced at him over his shoulder, but didn’t move from his spot, laying on his front. He didn’t look like he believed the demon.
“What are you doing, Sans?” Papyrus asked, his voice a little more stern this time.
Sans found he couldn’t answer, so he stroked down the wing again.
Papyrus’ body stiffened and he sucked in a breath.
“You okay?” Sans asked, not moving his hand from the edge of the wing.
“Y-yes,” Papyrus stammered.
Sans stroked the wing again. Papyrus moaned.
“Did you just moan?”
“DAMN IT ALL, SANS!”
Sans chuckled and ran his fingers down the large wings again, but this time he raked his claws through the feathers. Papyrus gasped, his hands slamming the ground as he gripped at the grass and dirt, choking slightly on a small cry.
This could be fun, Sans thought as he continued his stroking, thinking this was a perfect way to see how far he could push the angel.
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two AM hornposting, but im in love with the idea of overstimulation to establish a type of heirearchy amongst seekers/Arielbots.
as an example, im using my own continuity mumbo jumbo for this, Elita-1 and Windblade. these gals, if they see so fit to try and establish one (just for the flightframe heirearchy) would engage until one calls uncle or passes out all glitched and blissed.
its like endurance, precision, focus, and skill all in one battle that doesnt involve tearing the other apart like starscream and megatrons whole thing in most Cont.s, and the winner mearly has a seat above the other in the social heirearchy (how the fuck do you spell heireaechy) and its either a long or short battle, since you can use whatever tactic you so choose so long as by the end it was a fair fight and the other party isnt dead.
now to the real reason, my personal OC for this contunuity, gets turned into a triple changer with a flight alt-mode, and in turn, unknowingly gets checked out as another seeker/arialbot, and seen as one meaning she will be put to the test for her place in the heirearchy.
tldr: she doesnt know anything thats happening or why all of a sudden her new and sensitive wings are being touched in certain ways that has them on their knees.
Elita puts her to the test first, but her stamina has infact crossed into her new frame so its hours before she blisses out, and Elita comes out ontop again.
just orgasmic and pleasurable torture while Behemoth is pinned with little to no force besides claws digging into seams she didnt even know she had, pricking and scraling sensitive wires over and over as she tries to ask Elita to stop but she still says its just "preening" and (lyingly) complains how dirty Behemoth is.
though shes kinda impressed how long it has all gone for.