Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chosen made Dark feel things. She was like an itch he couldn't scratch, a demand on his mind that he couldn't ignore for long. She made him feel alive, streaking through the air with laughter and screams on his lips, skin flushed with heat and his muscles aching. She made him feel fierce, clutching her tight in four hands like he was trying to compress her into a small shape. She made him feel… hot.

It happened at the oddest times. Chosen, stepping out of the water of their bay, stripped down to her underwear to keep her clothes dry while she swam. Water dripped down her smoky frame as she trudged through the sand until she shook her head and set herself alight. In an instant she was dry, the flame of her hair and the end of her tail wicking the moisture, and she kicked the sand off her feet as she began to put her shoes back on. Dark felt hot, mouth dry, some kind of something pooling in his gut and making him shift in his seat.

Chosen again, standing in the center of a crater she just made as the dust settles around her, the heat of her bonfire scorching the dirt and killing the grass. She screamed her frustration, picked up a rock and threw it so hard that it didn't touch the water until it was halfway across the bay, skipping another two hundred feet before sinking under the water. 

Chosen, squashed beneath him, his top set of arms holding hers down as he taunted her close to her face, his second set slipping under her shirt and pinching her sides. Her expression locked into annoyance, but she whimpered and he wanted to hear it again. Dark had to adjust himself in his pants, the hot feeling concentrated between his legs. It pointed to her, muddied his thoughts into a slurry that chanted Chosen Chosen Chosen, and the feeling of his own fingers palming his length made him grunt.

She was his, and he was hers. They belonged to each other. He wanted her, wanted to crush her into a tiny ball, wanted to rip her limb from limb and peel her skin until she was bloody, wanted to turn her mind on him like a spotlight so all she could think of was Dark Dark Dark, wanted to destroy her.

Dark's hand gripped himself roughly, rubbing stiff denim against raw red flesh and he snapped his hips forward. Grinding down, he rutted against her thigh and she looked at him incredulously.

“What are you doing.”

Her tone rarely lilted up or down, her deadpan more demanding an answer than asking it. She didn't know how easy she was to read. She claimed she didn't have feelings, didn't have wants, but he could feel the warm flush of her skin against his and the firm shape poking against his own leg. Dark grinned and growled, holding her wrists tight and pinching her again before repeating the motion.

“Whatever I want,” he hissed.

Her dark complexion was reddened. His red. It was his colour she was wearing. Maybe it was more maroon or burgundy than fire ant red, but it was his colour. A drop of saliva escaped his mouth between pointed teeth and landed on her cheek, an edge of disgust coming over her face.

She was so strong. At any moment, she could break free. He wouldn't make it easy for her, especially since she was right where he wanted her, but she could. She didn't. She could grunt and complain all she wanted, but he could see her. It was so easy to tell when she was thinking about him too, pink tongue darting out over her cracked lips, or gripping the counter tightly enough to crack it, or when her hips lifted so slightly and she huffed.

He wanted more from her. He wanted her to cry again. He wanted her to grunt and squeal and scream, wanted every involuntary outburst she denied him with grit teeth and furrowed brows. He lifted both his lower hands and raked his nails over her stomach, stopping at her hip bones and pinching them tight between his sharp fingers. She gasped and wriggled against him, but the sight only made him hotter. He pressed himself down hard against her, watching her grit her teeth and raise her chin.

“You want it, too. You can feel it. Feels good.”

He panted and let his tongue hang out, crossing his ankles over hers to hold them down but splaying his knees to give himself more leverage to rock against her. He felt hot. Strong. She was laying there and letting him take whatever he wanted, like always. He could feel her muscles twitch under his hands and he dug the nails of his upper thumbs into her wrists. The resulting grunt she let out made the next press of his bulge against hers twice as sweet.

He was building towards something. That much, The Dark Lord could tell, even if he wasn't consciously racing towards it. The Chosen one was vulnerable beneath him, and with every pinch to her sides, her stomach, or her hips, she writhed against the heat of his crotch, panting and grunting and gasping in pained pleasure he wrought.

Before long he was at the gates of something grand and glorious, pulsing and pressing and grinding down as that ecstatic heat pumped out of him and into his underwear in liquid spurts. It flowed through his veins and muscles, made him twitch and snap forward again as he felt his balls pulling up and squeezing. His vision went white and Dark found his upper elbows giving way as he collapsed on top of her.

When the last dribbles had drooled their way out of his length and he felt like he could do more than groan and hold on, Dark opened his eyes and found Chosen pushing his heavy ass off of her, wrinkling her nose at the sizable dark spot in his jeans. Eugh. That felt grody. He grabbed back hold of her anyway, both sets of arms wrapping around her middle and trapping her arms to her sides. She squirmed hard at that, growling at him.

“Get off.”

“No. That felt really good.”

“Looked like a big mess to me.”

She scowled, and for the first time Dark looked down at Chosen's own dry pants. The tent at the front was still visible and she shifted uncomfortably. Cutely. Dark purred, pinching her again.

“You didn't finish???”

“Finish what?”

Chosen scowled. Dark moved one of his lower hands to Chosen's fly and roughly stuck it into her underwear. She inhaled sharply when he squeezed his hand into a fist around her and his other lower hand gripped into her soft sides.

Soft. Like any part of Chosen could be soft. Her expressions, her jaw, her chest and stomach, and even her dick were sharp and hard. She pulsed hotly under Dark's vice grip, drawing miniscule grunts from her lips and twitches from her hips.

“How's that feel?”

Chosen only huffed a smoky breath and growled at him, her eyebrows pinched together in frustration. He wanted to bite them off. He wanted to rip her dick off. He wanted her to scream. Instead, he loosened his grip and pumped her hard and fast, hot and dry enough to chafe. He could see the strain in her jaw as she clenched her teeth and he moved his face to press their noses together and stare at her face. As if she could feel his gaze through her eyelids, she wrenched her face away, opening up her neck for him to bite down on and make her lurch.

It didn't take long for her own liquid ecstacy to spill over her stomach, and, like always, she did it quietly.  He thought she was going to bust her lip from how hard she bit down on it. He wanted her to, but she didn't. She only shuddered as he stopped stripping her skin raw and shook the last milky drops off of her tip. He grinned.

“That is gross.”

The Chosen One opened her eyes, scowled, and ripped her hand free from his to blast him in the face with a fireball.

Chapter Text

“Nnngh!”

Victim sat up, rubbing his eyes and straining against the crick in his neck. He’d fallen asleep at his work table again, a blue line bright on his grey cheek from where it had dug into his skin, and the blanket draped over his shoulders drooped around him. Crumbs of sleep crunched between his fingers as he wiped his eyes and he stretched. Something had woken him up - not a dream, because as far as he could remember he hadn’t had any. A sound, a feeling, something had disturbed him, and he was not a light sleeper, but he couldn’t remember what it had been.

“Ahhh- Ahh!”

There it was again. A sound, something made by a stick. Not a creak or a thud, but a whining noise of surprise or pain. The thought roused him from his half-asleep state and he got to his feet suddenly.

It could have been anyone up at this time of night, judging by the darkness outside his window. A stubbed toe, a papercut, but victim was not primed to think so mundane of a sound of pain. His temperament was nervous, and it was his inclination to be paranoid. Clutching the soft throw blanket to his arms, vic slid off of the workbench and left the room, listening quietly for the sound to repeat itself.

“Nnngh, ahhh.”

That was Mitsi’s voice, he realized with a shudder. She wasn’t screaming, and it didn’t sound like there was a struggle, but it was still unfamiliar enough to be frightening. Victim followed the sound down the hall and to the door of her bedroom, giving it a gentle press inward and timidly gazing inside.

What vic saw, lit by the warm glow of her bedside lamp, was G.U.I.’s rear pointed towards the doorway. He couldn’t see their bodyguard’s face, being buried in Mitsi’s lap, but he was moving rhythmically, the bedsheets clenched in his hands. Mitsi was sat up against the headboard of the bed, her legs spread, entirely naked, and both hands gripping Agent’s head as she panted and sighed. Victim was entranced, mouth turning dry and heat rolling in his stomach as he watched their guard’s head bob up and down, leaving shiny slick along the flushed pale blue length disappearing down his throat. Mitsi’s mouth hung open and vic could hear G.U.I. struggling to breath around her as she held his head down, forcing his nose to nestle in her wiry pubic hair.

“Ahhh, ahhh, good boy.”

She was breathless, her hair falling in her face and her hips rolling up into their guard’s chin before she let go and allowed him to bring his head up to breathe again. A canine-like whine came from the stoick stick’s throat, a shimmering line of drool connecting his mouth to her length. Mitsi cupped his cheeks in her hands and cooed. He couldn’t see their guard’s face, but victim knew that, in a similar position, he would be blue from head to toe.

Victim knew what this was, of course. He wasn’t uploaded yesterday. He wasn’t uploaded at all, actually, but what he meant by the figure of speech is that he’d been around the net long enough to know what sex was. More than that, he knew who it was for, and that it wasn’t for him. It was for sticks like Mitsi or G.U.I., whose forms were created with movement in mind, smooth and graceful as they were. Victim wasn’t made to dance. His body wasn’t made to be touched softly, to be guided or held or caressed. Victim was made to be tossed and hurt. This… wasn’t something he was for.

It’s what he thought, anyway, hearing sticks talk and seeing pictures and diagrams - he had no interest in participating, he thought, up until this exact moment when he couldn’t take his eyes off of Mitsi’s soft curves, the way their guard’s rumpled shirt was beginning to untuck from his crisp pants, sheen of sweat clinging to his neck, the delicate hand that disappeared behind his form that was surely cupping him as Mitsi murmured words to him under her breath before pressing him back down in her lap to take her dick down his throat again-

Victim gulped down a breath of his own, and Mitsi’s sharp, clever eyes caught his. He saw her blush, heard her breath catch and her muscles clench around their bodyguard, and he quickly covered his eyes and ducked his head, blanket dropping to the ground at his feet.

“Sorry!”

There was a strangled slurping sound from the bed, and then Mitsi’s light embarrassed laughter.

“Ohhh, sorry, were we, ahh, too loud?”

“No! No, no, you’re okay, I just- I heard you, and I wasn’t sure what it was, so I- Sorry! I didn’t see anything!”

“Haha, mmmmn, I don’t know if that’s true~!”

There was a breathiness to her voice, and vic realized - her cock was still buried in their guard’s throat. Could he breathe? The entire situation was making him run hot under the collar. He should leave, he knew, but his feet stayed rooted in the doorway.

“It’s okay. We don’t mind, do we Guy?”

At first he had seemed surprised, embarrassed, even, but her reassuring words and the way Mitsi eased G.U.I. off of her dick and back onto his knees seemed to let him gather himself. Lips shiny with spit, their debauched bodyguard shook his head. Victim felt a shiver run up his body.

“I’ll- just go back to bed!”

Mitsi tilted her head, thinking it over as he stayed where he was, looking him up and down with consideration.

“You can join us, if you want.”

Victim swallowed. He knew how he felt about the both of them. He relished how it felt to be close to them, to be cared for by them, protected from physical danger by their bodyguard and kept safe from less tangible danger by Mitsi. There was nowhere he felt safer than in their sets of capable hands, and he’d spent long afternoons admiring them, watching their faces, and soaking in the feeling of affection he held in his heart for them both. How he’d like to be the one to lift Mitsi into his arms to let her see over a crowd. How he’d love to find himself boxed in by G.U.I.’s arms - he hadn’t pictured himself in this scenario before, but could he resist the invitation?

After a long moment of hesitation, fidgeting and looking between them, victim stepped forward into the dim room, stopping in his tracks only at Mitsi’s raised hand.

“Ah ah~!” she sing songed. “You have to take your pants off~.”

He swallowed, heat crawling up his neck. Their bodyguard was still fully dressed, but Mitsi was not. He hadn’t thought ahead to what exactly joining them would entail, but he could have assumed it would mean taking at least some of his clothes off.

“Ah… right.”

Without fanfare, he unbuttoned and slid down his plain black trousers, the sturdy sort he could use both in the workshop and in the field but that left harsh lines on his skin when he failed to remove them before sleeping. The wolf whistle Mitsi let out when his bare legs came into view had him fumbling, but he was stepping out of the pant legs soon enough and crawling up onto the bed to join them, bed sagging under his knee and face warm and blue. G.U.I. moved back, a line of drool reflecting off of his chin, and as vic took his place between them he had to cover his mouth with his hand to stifle a laugh. Their bodyguard hadn’t even removed his hat or sunglasses. He wondered how they hadn’t come off during the earlier fellatio.

Mitsi’s warm hands came up over his hips, nudging him forward, then slid up his sides, over his sleep shirt, and cupped his cheeks. He leaned forward into her grip as she tilted his face forward against hers, connecting them in a soft kiss. He felt their guard’s warm, hard body press firmly against his back, two more hands settling over his spread legs. Victim shivered, hot and flustered. He couldn’t keep himself from squeaking, squished between them, skin alight with the sensation of hands lightly petting over his skin.

Under him, Mitsi shifted, and he could feel the hot press of her erection through his underwear. One of their guard’s hands shifted lower to press her more firmly against him and he whined while Mitsi smiled against his lips. Teasing lower, G.U.I.’s long fingers dipped under the edge of his panties and tugged them to the side. Dampness stuck between him and the fabric, stretching thin and spreading to the soft patch of pubic hair where the agent’s fingers soon tangled.

Mitsi cooed, “That’s it, good boy,” and he wasn’t sure if she was talking to him or their guard.

Their agent’s fingers pet through the slick between his legs, dancing over his hole as his hips guided victim’s forward to gently grind against Mitsi’s cock. He sighed and whined while she panted, and when her teeth scraping against his bottom lip made him gasp, one of their guard’s fingers slipped inside.

Victim’s hips jumped forward and he cried out, grinding against Mitsi’s stiff heat which made her groan into his mouth. One of her hands slipped down his neck and over his shirt, beginning to pop open the buttons keeping his chest contained. It was difficult to keep his thoughts in order, to keep his mind inside his body. He’d never felt like this before, hardly ever had a reason to touch himself before now, let alone like this. Agent’s finger was flexing and pressing against him from the inside while his clit dragged deliciously against Mitsi, whose free hand was worming under his shirt to squeeze at his naked breast while her mouth worked against his. He couldn’t close his mouth, gasping and panting, his eyes squeezed shut to limit that sensory input at least. His whole body felt like a live wire, every electrical impulse going straight to his dick.

Their guard pressed his hips forward, and when he pressed back again another finger joined the first, wet and messy and making a squelching noise as they scissor inside of him that made victim’s face light up even deeper than before.

“That’s right, vic, you’re taking him so well. Looks soooo good. You wanna’ see?”

He didn’t, really, but she pulled back from his mouth, and even though he leaned forward to follow, her hand pressed down on his chest and kept him in place, her other hand tilting his chin down. He was forced to look at them, his puffy wet clit grinding slick against her length, their guard’s thumb resting within the curls of hair above as his two first fingers undulated inside him. Victim moaned, shutting his eyes again. It feld too good, the way they were looking after him, and selfishly he wanted more.

“Please,” he whined, and his beloveds obliged him.

G.U.I.’s chest pressed into his back again and vic leaned forward, holding himself up on shaking arms. Mitsi’s hands kneaded into his hips while their guard pet one hand over his back, the other taking Mitsi’s soaking length and giving it a few pumps before holding it in place and guiding him to sit back down on it.

They went slow, teasing his entrance and spreading his slick generously, poking just inside his hole and popping out of it, but when the head finally pieced his core vic cried out, stretched taut.

“There’s my good boys…”

Mitsi groaned, and vic could almost cry. She was slowly pressing him down into her, guiding him into sitting and sheathing herself entirely inside in tiny rocking motions. Their guard’s hands slid around him, cupping his breasts, and squeezed them. Victim saw stars. G.U.I. thumbed over his nipples, flicked them, pinched them, tugged and jiggled the meat of his breast, squeezing them together and panting and grunting against the back of vic’s neck. Slowly, their guard guided his hips with his own, grinding down and pulling back, making Mitsi’s cock drag deliciously against his insides. Victim writhed, threw his head back against the guard, arching his back and crying as his neck, his tits, and his cunt were assaulted with overwhelming sensation. It was so much, so fast, and he’d never felt anything like it before.

The slick slide, the massage of his inside and outside, the sweet tone of Mitsi’s voice praising both him and their guard in one breath, all sank into his guts and built, built, built. He bounced in her lap as she called him gorgeous, pretty, beautiful and touched him with her soft, warm hands, so different from what his body had been allowed to feel in the past. It was exquisite. 

The hands on his tits bore down and victim let out a strangled sound, convulsing and clenching down hard. It was like a bolt of electricity was travelling up his spine, making his muscles seize and clench and letting out all the air from his lungs in one great rush. Mitsi grunted, but vic sagged forward, suddenly boneless. His hips still rocked gently as he let his weight down, but he whined when G.U.I.’s fingers pinched at his nipples again and curled away from overstimulation. Mitsi tsked, and the hands retreated, petting over his back instead.

“Bad dog, that’s too handsy.”

The agent gulped, and vic thought he heard a whine through the white-out fog of aftershocks. He felt Mitsi sliding inside of him and yelped, but she shushed him and pet his hair with one hand as her cock slid out and bounced against his asscheek. As good as it had felt, it was relieving to have it out of him, even as his insides still fluttered around nothing.

“Finish me off, puppy.”

Vic could just hear his reverent voice as their guard scooted back and lowered his face down to Mitsi’s unsatisfied cock, still upright and weeping clear pre.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Though vic didn’t lift his head to see, he was sure that the wet sounds behind him paired with the way Mitsi’s face screwed up with pleasure meant he was back where he’d started, swallowing her shaft, now coated in vic’s slick. The thought made him flutter again, but he was too worn out to even consider asking for a second round.

Soon enough, she moaned her release down their bodyguard’s throat, and under his cheek Vic could feel the muscles of her soft abdomen clenching as she squeezed out dollops of seed. Her hands pet through his dischevelled hair, one reaching for G.U.I.’s when he crawled up the bed to lay beside them. He hadn’t gotten off, vic realized, but he didn’t seem to mind that fact as he pulled the two of them into his body.

He wasn’t sure what this would mean for them long term, but it was a question to be posed tomorrow, he thought. Tonight, he would bask in the warm affection of the two bodies sandwiching him between them. Maybe… sex could be for him, sometimes.

Chapter Text

The Chosen One didn’t have feelings. She didn’t have wants. No animal desires, no ferocity. She was cold, and dark, and empty, like a chilling wind over their cliffs in the dead of night. Like a hollow head. Like an empty box. She was nothing like The Dark Lord, the firecracker, who knew what he wanted and would take it without hesitation. Nothing like Dark, with his spontaneity and laughter and self-assuredness. He was a force of nature, a gust of wind that left her billowing, trailing behind like an ember.

He brought something out of her that could not be explained. She was not a spontaneous stick, not like him, and could not act on her desires, when they hit her, until she had had time to decipher exactly what they were. He made her spontaneous. When they sat together, Dark chittering happily in her lap, he made her open her mouth and rest her sharp teeth dangerously against his throat. When he placed his hands on his hips and laughed, he made her supercharge her fist to punch him thousands of pixels into the air. When he leaned into her space with his tongue out, pinched between his own sharp teeth teasingly…

The way she behaved when he was close was unexplainable. There was no purpose for the way their mouths met, Dark’s back hitting the wall with an oof. There was no reason she should feel so out of control, pressing their bodies together in a way that was almost frantic, gripping him at the sides like he might dissipate, slipping through her fingers like smoke. She couldn’t account for the way her heart fluttered when his antennae began tapping on her head, or the way her tail gave a singular loud thunk on the floor. She couldn’t understand anything she was doing, let alone why, but she knew it was all his fault.

Dark’s sharp teeth bit into her lip and she growled, pinning him in place forcefully. He might have been bigger than her, but she would always be stronger. They both knew that. Still, he wouldn’t stay put. They stumbled down the hall, connected by mouths and arms and bodies as they traded who was keeping who pinned down. They were rough, knocking heads and shoulders, practically wrestling as they grunted with effort while keeping their powers from surfacing and potentially damaging something. They had enough holes in the walls already.

They stumbled through the door to Chosen’s bedroom and Dark knocked it shut with his foot, using two sets of arms to slam her against it and box her in. His antennae tapped their way across her face and she scowled against both the sensation and his awful, wonderful grin.

“You’re so mad. You started it, you know!”

She didn’t say anything, clenching her fingers tight in the fabric of his shirt and shoving him back until his feet caught on the edge of her bed and he fell down onto it. Before he had a chance to move she was on him again, swinging her legs on either side of his hips and holding him down with her weight. His lower pair of hands rested firmly on her thighs, fingers tapping teasingly over her skin like he might start to tickle her. He’s tried before. It didn’t work - not because she wasn’t ticklish, but because she wouldn’t let herself respond to it.

That stupid giddy smile had his lips splitting open, his tongue working against the back of his teeth as he shifted restlessly under her. She shook him once, lifting his shoulders off of the mattress and hitting him back down against it like a predator knocking out its prey. His eyes twinkled and he laughed at her.

“Why are you so fired up???”

With smoke seeping out between her lips, Chosen leaned down and none too gently pressed them back to his. She’d seen how this started in films, curled up with Dark on their burnt sofa. Mouths moving together, wistful sighs and delicate touches. Sensitive, hesitant, worshipful. She did not move like that.

Their teeth knocked together, Dark’s mouth opening to her and his tongue darting out to taste her. She bit down on it and he yelped, squirming, his upper hands pushing against her shoulders and antennae tapping against her head in alarm. Chosen’s thick tail lashed and she put more of her weight down, pressing down harder, trapping him, devouring him.

Dark took what he wanted, did what he pleased, didn’t take a single moment to think about it. Chosen didn’t have to do any wondering with him, because the moment he had a thought was the moment he voiced it. She couldn’t do that. She couldn’t be spontaneous, be so blasé . She always knew what he was thinking, but did he? Did he know how much she wanted him? Did he know about the crawling writhing thing deep in her chest that longed to burrow inside of him? 

She bit down harder on his tongue, and Dark writhed under her, pushing her, making noises of complaint that weren’t quite words. She made her hands red hot, knowing he could withstand the heat, and his shirt melted and smouldered in her fist. The rest of the ruined fabric she grabbed and ripped off of him. When she dipped her head down to bite at the exposed skin of his collar, Dark shrieked.

“What the hell are you doing???”

She could hear the grin in his voice. She didn’t need to look at him. His lower arms were pulling at her trousers, his upper hands tugging at her hair and loosening it from the ponytail she kept it in. It was only barely long enough to keep tied back, and she wasn’t able to grow it out any longer - at a certain length it terminated in a self-sustaining flame to match the one on her tailtip. Dark’s hair was longer, reaching almost to his knees in the back when it was brushed out straight and he hadn’t impulsively chopped half of it off with a knife.

(She wished, sometimes, that she could grow her hair out like that. She wished that she could adorn it with flowers and other decorations, braid and pleat it, comb it out without fear of melting the brush and feel the weight of it cascading over her shoulders. She wished she could be pretty like he was.)

Chosen dug her superheated hands into Dark’s sides, just below his ribs, digging her nails in to prevent him from escaping. They both knew she would let him go, if he really wanted to leave. She may be able to hold him down, but she would never trap him like she once was in a small dark chest.

“You’re like a cat, Cho! Stop clawing me up!”

He whined. He was always doing that. Complaining. Whining. Chosen drew her lips back from her teeth and bit into his soft shoulder. Two hands grabbed handfuls of her hair and pulled, another two pressing into her cheeks and pushing. She didn’t budge, even as he squealed.

“Cursors, what is wrong with you today! Fuck off!”

She wondered what he tasted like, sometimes. Not just the sauce on his messy hands that he sometimes stuck in her mouth after eating, or the salt on his lips when they kissed after fighting in the water. She wondered what he would taste like inside, what his skin would feel like between her teeth as she peeled it back. She wondered what noises he would make as she tongued open his flesh, lapping up the blood he so rarely spilled from his cracked palms.

Cheeks hot and breath beginning to come shakily, Chosen closed her eyes and mouthed her way down her partner’s abdomen. She nipped at his skin, taking long savoring licks and leaving sweet kisses as she meandered over the small swell of his breast and stomach. He was wriggling again, his hands flexing and grasping for her.

Chosen finally brought her hands to his hips and trailed them over the thick pleated fabric of his skirt, finding the hem and dragging it up his legs. She was unsurprised to find he wasn’t wearing any underwear - she wasn’t sure if he even owned any. Evidently, her expression had morphed into one showing her disapproval of that fact, because he was laughing at her again. She lowered her head to his thighs and nibbled on the softer skin there, thinner as she inched closer to the point between his legs.

His upper arms couldn’t reach her now, so they folded behind his head, his lower ones seemingly trying to help her along now that he had an idea of what she was trying to do. She took his legs in her hands and shoved them up, moving his body to sit up against the headboard. He grunted, softening into a sigh when she lowered her head back down to mouth at her prize.

Dark wasn’t quite hard yet, but there was enough blood flow that she could tell he was interested. She pressed her nose into his base and mouthed at the swell of his sack, peppering him with kisses. She wanted it to be like it was in the movies, slow and romantic, but they didn’t look like any actors or actresses, nor did they act anything like the leads in any Romance she’d seen before. Chosen knew better than to try and pretend she or her partner could ever be something like you’d see on film, but she yearned for it anyway.

She knew her mouth was hot by the way Dark hissed as she dragged her tongue down his length, exhaling smoke over his crotch before suckling on his head. His cock gave a little kick in her mouth as she let go, now slick with spit, and she returned to the soft nest of hair beneath.

“You’re teasing me,” he grumbled, fists tight in her hair. 

She wasn’t, really. Not on purpose, at least. She gave him a kiss on each testicle, inhaling the musky scent surrounding her. It wasn’t a bad smell, she decided, even if it was obvious Dark didn’t clean himself as often as he could. It smelled like him, like he was all around her, and that made it pleasant. With soft licks, she lathed his shaft until it shone on all sides and stood up proudly from his body, Dark huffing and whining all along above her.

 Finally, she drew herself back up to the head of his dick, swirling her tongue all around it before popping her lips around his glans and sucking. When she flicked her eyes up to look at his face, he was grinning. 

“Yeah, you like that?”

Chosen frowned and pulled back her lips to let her teeth rest against Dark’s skin, a thin trail of smoke coming out of her nose. Dark pulled her hair.

“Hey, hey, hey! Fuck, don’t do that!”

Rolling her eyes and her lips back down over her teeth, Chosen descended, letting him glide over her tongue as her hands fondled his globes below. She did like it, not that she’d ever tell him that. She liked how he tasted. She liked how he smelled. She liked the pressure on her scalp from the way he kept trying to tug her head around. She wanted him to know that she liked it, that she wanted it, wanted him. She couldn’t express it, but she could do this, she thought.

His hands wouldn’t stop pushing and pulling at her, trying to force her down harder and faster, trying to jerk his hips up to force himself down her throat. Chosen lifted her head and growled, gripping Dark’s hips in a vice as she held them down tight to the mattress.

“Stay still.”

“Well hurry up!” he whined, and Chosen glared up through the smoking hair falling in her face, taking the head back into her mouth and drooling around it.

 He jerked when her tongue danced around him, darting into his slit and gathering up the tangy pre collecting there. He was still trying to move, but she made herself an unbudgeable boulder on top of him.

“Fuck, look at you. That’s where you belong. Beneath me. Ahhh, that’s right - choke on it!”

Chosen huffed, more smoke exiting her nostrils with her irritation. She sunk down a little further, letting her teeth scrape lightly over his length as his glans rubbed against the rough roof of her mouth. He bucked, trying to inch forward to bump into her soft palette, but she held him still.

Eventually she was able to force the muscles of her throat to relax while keeping her arms in place so that Dark couldn’t gag her with the force of his rutting, and she slid down just a little further so her nose was pressed to his groin. She held herself there for a moment, hearing his hands skipping across the bedsheet and his breathy demands for her to move, fuck, come on, Cho- before she pulled back off of him entirely to suckle at his tip.

He looked wrecked, she noted, stroking his base. He was still sweaty and singed from their fight earlier, and she bet she looked the same. The fire on her head flared as she stared at him, lowering her face to suck around the root of his cock while stroking his head gently with her fingers. He whined, but she wouldn’t move any faster.

“Come on, Chosen, you’re killing me.”

She took him back into her mouth and slowly, achingly, sank down to the base, not allowing him to hump in any faster.

“Fuck, Chosen, you’re killing me! Just a little more.”

He pulled at her hair and she flicked her eyes back up to him, his antennae drooping and her eyes wide and wet. She scoffed around him at the blatant puppy eyes, but she acquiesced and picked up the pace. Instead of taking him fully she only sucked as much as she could fit in her mouth, working him with her tongue while her free hand quickly stroked his base. He cried out and moaned, unable to keep himself quiet or still as he writhed against the bed. The sight made her throb in her pants and she twitched forward, dragging herself against his bent leg.

Without warning the cock in her mouth gave a kick and Dark’s seed spilled hot over her tongue. She quickly pulled back, gripping his root in her hand firmly as he groaned loudly. The second spurt shot into the air and landed across her nose, the sight of it drawing another loud groan from her partner as she tilted his cock away so that the subsequent ropes of spunk splattered over his belly instead. What had landed in her mouth she spat, wiping her face and flicking it into the puddle he made. His arms were splayed to the side, eyes rolled back, and his chest heaved as he breathed hard.

A breath of fire burnt the tangy taste of him out of her mouth, and as he caught his breath Chosen climbed up the bed to lay against him, one of her hands still clenching his slowly softening prick. Her own poked against his leg, but she did nothing further to stimulate it besides look up at Dark and raise his eyebrows.

“Are you going to do me now?”

Dark blinked, processing her words, and then barked a laugh, his top set of arms recrossing behind his head while his lower set wrapped around her.

“What, and get cum-mouth like you??”

Chosen didn’t respond, but as she maintained eye contact her hand began to pump him firmly again, and he squealed.