#amab!reader

“Zandik!” You say with a cheer, coming into your dorm room. You and Zandik were paired together at the beginning of the year. It wasn’t a random pairing, you were just the only student who would willingly dorm with him. 

You and Zandik are polar opposites! Zandik is such an isolated young man, and he stays cooped up in the room or in the library most days. You’ve heard the other rumors of course but who actually believes rumors these days? On the other hand, you are an extrovert and quite popular among the other scholars of The Akedymia. You are not… the smartest, but that’s okay Zandik had recently offered to help you with your homework. He claims his help comes from a, “Pity for the dense and incompetent.”  You have an inkling that if he hated you that much though you would have ended up in worse states than this

…

🧪🧪🧪🧪🧪🧪🧪🧪

Pain blooms across your shoulder, Zandik’s teeth dig into your flesh. “Ow, Zandik!” you whine and roughly pat his thigh, “That hurts you know? I swear we’ve talked about this…” you groan out, and nip him in return, though your bite doesn’t draw blood.

Zandik sniffles against your shoulder and mumbles something you can’t quite hear. His hips stutter as he tries to keep rolling against your cock, “I can’t hear you baby.” Zandik unlatches his teeth from you, and nuzzles his face against the nook of your neck. He’s so adorable! You only have yourself to blame for his tears, you were the one who convinced Zandik to ride you. Zandik does not answer you, he kitten-licks at the blood he drew moments ago. Too cute. Your fingers dig into the dips of his hips and fuck into him. You’ve grown impatient–sitting still on Zandik’s bed while letting him clumsily fuck himself onto your cock. 

Little “ah, ah, ah’s”slips from his lips as you thrust into him, and from the sudden pace change he wraps himself around you. “Y/n, Y/n,  please,” he babbles at you. 

His incoherent babbling makes you blush. “You’re so cute Zandik, Zandik, Zandik.” 

He yips.

You suddenly bite his shoulder, drawing blood. You move again, flipping him on his back and fucking him into the bedsheets. Your teeth latch over his nipple and you take a bite against the mound of flesh. “Love you, Zandik, love you so much.” You feel warm fluid splash against your stomach and can only laugh at the white mess that clings to both of your stomachs. “You are so pretty Zandik…” You bring your hand up to hold his face, squishing his cheeks when your fingers press into them. 

His face scrunches with an angry look, and he swats at your hand. You can only laugh. Not at him, never at him. That cute angry face just makes you want to fuck him more. Zandik must think you’re laughing at him because he attempts to turn on his stomach and squirm away. “Zandik, where are you going, baby? Don’t run,” you whine and pull him back against your dick. You yank his leg over your shoulder, and hold his arms against the bed by intertwining your fingers with his. 

The new angle allows your thrusts to be deeper. Rougher. Zandik mewls, and you feel stinging pain on your arm. You watch as those pretty red eyes roll back, and he scratches desperately at your arm. You breathe through clenched teeth, and pout down at him, “You’re so mean.” You lean down to peck squished lips. After a few more thrusts in Zandik’s tight walls, you cum too. 

Hot breath fills the room, and you slump against Zandik. A few moments of comfortable silence passes until you feel his hand slap your arm. “You’re heavy,” Zandik huffs. You grumble, and move to get off. However, legs locking around your waist stop you from pulling out. “Not like that!” He grumbles at you, yet his cheeks are flushed. “Just-” He ‘hmphs’ and decides to do it himself. He pushes you until you roll over on your back, so that he’s straddling you again. “There,” he finally rests against your chest.

You hadn’t meant to go snooping.

What you had expected had been up, nonsense files full of musical mambo jumbo that you didn’t quite understand, long unread emails that made your head spin just glancing at then, his giant google doc full of song ideas and random lyrics he thinks of perpetually pinned as it always is. What you hadn’t expected was a separate browser to be open, too. You didn’t even realize it was there at first, content to skim through some of his lyrics, but when your mouse brushed the bottom of the screen on accident, it pulled up two windows, the second one an incognito tab.

Really, you hadn’t! It’s not your fault that your boyfriend left his computer wide open on the kitchen table. It’s not your fault that he had just left for the gym, so you knew you would have time to take a teeny tiny peek. Really, it didn’t seem like it would hurt! He had been so secretive on it lately, always sending you little side glances when he would curl up with it in the corner of the couch, screen angled away. Part of you had just assumed it was music-related - some new beat he was working on, or the concept for the next comeback, or some boring emails that reading would force you to sign an NDA. You honestly didn’t care, and you wouldn’t have been thinking about it that deeply if he hadn’t left it wide open in the kitchen like an invitation.

Seriously, who’s fault is it, yours or his? His, you tell yourself, fingers creeping to press a few keys on the keyboard, his password always the same. A little peek can’t hurt…

“How scandalous, Christopher.” you say to no one in particular, and with a precursory glance at the door, you’re clicking on it.

You can’t help it, not when Chan is usually a terrible secret-keeper. He doesn’t like secrets - says they make him feel heavy and gross - so for him to have a mysterious incognito tab is just a bit abnormal.

Immediately, you’re greeted with not one, not two, but ten tabs open in this browser, the tabs crowded together at the top of the screen. An orange and black website greets you, and your fingers freeze over the mousepad when you realize that your boyfriend has Pornhub open on an incognito tab on his computer. There’s a Brazzers ad headlining the top, the margins filled with blinking ads with AI girls begging you to “breed” them, a dick growth pill pop-up instantly covering a third of the screen the second you get your bearings enough to start moving the mouse again. 

The video is titled something corny: “Taking Daddy’s Big Cock Until I Choke on His Cum!”. It’s generic, and you barely can bring yourself to sit through a full minute of the shitty acting at the beginning of the video before you’re cringing, pausing the video, and dragging the timebar back to zero, not wanting Chan to know you were watching his porn. It’s not something that you’d ever really considered him being into - you knew he was a bit into choking, his eyes always fluttering and body tensing whenever your hand found his throat - but you suppose it would make sense that it would translate to choking on your dick, too.

The second title is just as bad (“Hot Neighbor Teaches Me How to Eat His Homestyle Hot Dog”), and you don’t even give it a click, nose crinkling at the cheesy thumbnail of a guy kneeling on what’s clearly a set of a suburban backyard. It looks just like the first video, and you’re clicking to the third tab before the AI girl on the corner of the screen can even beg to be your “AI slut” (whatever that means).

This video is a little more homebrew, the title some Japanese thing you can’t translate. You can vaguely make out the words “take” and “stretch”, or at least that’s what you think the characters would translate to. You honestly can’t be bothered to translate it, because the video starts to autoplay, a very loud Chaturbate ad echoing off the kitchen walls, and you turn the computer volume down a few clicks and skip the ad, sighing with relief when the volume drops in the real video.

This video is different from the others you’ve seen so far - faces are covered with masks, and everything is pixelated, though it’s not hard to know what’s happening. There’s two boys on the screen, and they seem like amateur stars, because their movements are less practiced and smooth than the usual actors, more genuine and natural. There’s no viagra or faked moans or fake set, just a plush mattress, wrinkled sheets, and the two honey-skinned boys on the center of the screen. 

They start off naked, and there’s no intro, no half-baked scene to build up to the porn. The bigger of the two boys, in both height and in size, guides the one boy off the bed and onto his knees on the side of the bed. The mask is pulled down and then off, carefully folded and placed next to the boy who’s still on the bed. He positions himself so that his legs are hanging off the side of the bed, and guides the boy on his knees to sit between his knees, pixelated mouth just a breath away from his cock.

He murmurs something low and sweet, and the boy on his knees drops his jaw, tongue lolling out. It’s a simple command, but it sends a wave of heat rolling through you, imagining having Chan like this. You wonder if that’s what he’s imagining as he’s watching these videos. You wonder if he’s watching them right in front of you, big headphones on like he’s doing work on the couch, but he’s actually watching porn and trying not to moan.

The bigger boy makes a content sound, something that sounds like praise rolling off his tongue, and his fingers creep forward to press on the other boy’s tongue. He uses his partner’s mouth like he’s stretching open his hole, starting with one finger, prodding and teasing, until a second joins and scissors his cheeks open. The other boy’s eyes roll back as his partner forces his fingers down his throat, a third finger joining in and “stretching” his mouth like it’s his entrance. You really wish you understood Japanese even a little bit, because the boy starts to dirty talk while he “fingers” his partner’s mouth, the words sounding somehow condescending and sweet. 

Only once the other boy starts to cry, fingers twitching weakly on his lap, does the bigger boy take his fingers out of his mouth. He uses the excess of spit coating his fingers to slick up his cock, and then says something low and commanding again. The other boy understands, and he’s quick to lean in and start to suck the boy off, working deeper and deeper with each bob of his head.

He’s choking and gagging, drool dribbling down his chin and decorating his throat and chest with a sheen in the low light, but he seems to be enjoying himself, cock bobbing between his legs as he swallows around the other boy. 

You have to stop the video before you get too committed to it, though you’re hesitant to, because it was just getting real good, fingers tangling in hair and using it as an anchor to fuck into the smaller boy’s mouth. You restart this video too, brain a little foggy and pants more than a little tight.

The next two tabs are much the same: homebrew amateur porn, one nearly identical to the last video, and the next one a boy alone in his room, using dildos of increasing size to “train” his throat. The next tab is no longer black and orange, instead a simple black and white, and a glance at the upper corner of the screen shows that you’ve switched over to X now. The shit in the rest of the tabs is truly homebrew, filmed on iPhone cameras and shaky. In the last video, they go so hard they knock the camera over from where it’s propped up, and the video ends with them laughing, scrambling to turn the camera off and just do what they were going to do.

The captions of these are much like the earlier ones, though a little more laid back. The video titled “throat training my boyfriend until his gag reflex goes away: day 30 ♡” catches your eye, and you watch that one in full, watching the way the boy who hovers over the other coos and coddles the boy choking on his dick. It’s hot, and you’re starting to understand why Chan was so into this in the first place.

You put everything back into place quietly, brain whirring and full of obscene thoughts and also a few questions. Mostly, you’re envisioning what it would look like to put Chan on his knees or spreading him out on the mattress and gently guiding your cock into his mouth, carefully stretching him open. You know his gag reflex isn’t the worst, but it’s still there, and he’s never been able to take your full cock in his mouth, and you’ve never asked. He might like it rough sometimes, but you’ve never wanted to make him choke, too worried about hurting him too much. It seems you had nothing to worry about, considering Chan’s very clear fantasy of experiencing just that, and now you’re left to plot how you’re going to make his dream come true.

You’re mostly lost on why Chan hasn’t brought it up himself. He’s not exactly shy about what he likes, and although he doesn’t necessarily enjoy asking for things, he knows better than to hide it now, and he’s usually completely shameless in what he wants. He’ll come home from the studio in the wee hours of the morning and wake you up, pleading you to push his face into the mattress and make him forget, but he can’t ask you to try deepthroating? You hum curiously, and then decide, as you hear the keys clink into the apartment door, that you’re going to let him bring it up himself.

…at least, you were going to, but it’s been two full weeks, a third week looming around the corner, and Chan hadn’t breathed a word of his little fantasy. In fact, he’d been a little more hesitant than normal to suck your dick at all, claiming something about schedules and recording, but when you checked in with Jisung, they wouldn’t be doing any actual recording until next week at the earliest, still hashing out the beat and the lyrics to perfection. You’d respected his decision, of course, but part of you wonders if he’s scared that you’re going to put the pieces together if he actually puts his hot mouth around your dick. 

It’s now, that you’re lying on your shared bed, that you can’t take it anymore. Chan doesn’t wear clothes around the house, not really (“it’s more comfortable that way!” he claims), so he’s fully nude under the comforter, scrolling aimlessly on his phone. You’re clad in only a pair of boxers, unable to resist the chance for some skinship with your boyfriend, fingers itching to drag him against you and kiss him silly. He’s lying on his side, face away from you, and as you zero in on the curve of his neck, the ripple of his back muscles when he so much as shifts, you decide that you’re tired of waiting around for him. You know he has nothing going on tomorrow besides an interview at two and then dance practice afterwards, and you’re going to take full advantage of his very open morning to use him into the early dawn (if he’ll let you, of course).

“Channie.”

He hums, not looking away from his phone, still scrolling through what looks to be Instagram reels. You’ll scold him for rotting his brain later.

“Channie.” You drag out the ‘ie’, and he tilts his head, but still doesn’t look back.

You roll over, wrapping your arms around his middle, pressing yourself into his back. Your chin hooks onto his shoulder, your breath hot on his ear as you pretend to be peering at his screen.

“Watching more homebrew porn on Twitter?” You say bluntly. Fuck beating around the bush - the sooner you get to the point, the sooner you can have Chan spread out underneath you, that glassy look in his eyes.

He sputters, going rigid in your hold, choking on his own spit as he drops his phone and turns his neck at an awkward angle to make eye contact with you.

“What?” He finally manages to get out, cheeks hot, obviously dusted pink even in the low lamplight of your bedroom.

“You heard me,” you say, smirk evident in your tone, pressing a teasing kiss to a sensitive point of his neck just to make him squirm more, “You watching porn, Channie?”

“I don’t - I’m not watching porn - why would you think I’m watching porn?” He exclaims, using his strength to spin around in your hold, eyes big and ears bright red, giving him away.

“Sure, maybe you aren’t right now,” you hum, eyes predatory, “But you have before. Does ‘Training My Slutty Throat to Take my Boyfriend’s BIG Dick’ sound familiar?”

He flushes, jaw dropping, staring up at you with big eyes. You feel his cock swelling against you, pressed between your thigh and his abdomen. You have to bite back a grin.

“What - how did you - hey, when did you…did you go through my computer?” He whines, really blushing now, so red you would normally tease him for it.

Fortunately for him, you have better things to tease him about right now. “You left it wiiiiiide open on the dining room table a couple weeks ago, bubs. I thought maybe it was a new fantasy, that you would bring it up, but this isn’t new, is it? You’ve always wanted me to stretch your pretty little mouth open around my cock, haven’t you?”

He somehow manages to turn even more red, burying his face in your chest and making a weak sound. Again, his cock twitches against you, already nearing full mast and you haven’t even touched him. You press your thigh forward just to watch with satisfaction as he fights back a groan.

“‘s okay Channie, I want to do that, too,” you coo, reaching a hand to cup his jaw and force him to look up at you, “Want to make you gag and choke on me until your head is full of cock. ‘til you’re just a dumb little baby, drunk on the feeling of my tip kissing the back of your throat.”

He moans now, unable to hold it back, mouth dropping open as he stares up at you, tears already dancing across his waterline. You run a thumb across his bottom lip, dipping it into his mouth just to make his lips part for you. You lean down, slow and teasing, claiming his lips gently. It’s a chance for him to back out, a chance for him to pull back and tell you that he’s pissed that you breached his privacy like that, a chance for him to tell you that he doesn’t want to do this tonight.

He kisses you back so hard it almost knocks the wind out of you.

His hips start to gently rock against you, leg slotting between yours so that your thigh is fully pressed against the heat of his cock. He’s wet already, a needy keen slipping past his lips when you pull away from him.

“Jagi.” He whimpers, but you shush him, pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead as you disentangle.

“Don’t you want to feel my cock in your throat, sweet thing? Isn’t that what you were craving?” You say, slipping the comforter off of both of you.

He nods, tongue coming out to wet his lips, body language begging you to get to it already. You’d laugh if you weren’t needy too, cock straining against your boxers, a wet patch forming where the tip is pressed against the fabric.

You guide Chan into your favorite position from one of his stupid Twitter porn videos. He’s on his back, but his head is dangling off the side of the bed, eyes following your movements (even though you’re upside down to him). You stand up, cock right at his mouth level. Drool escapes the corner of his mouth, dribbling down his cheek and mixing in with the sweat at his hairline. A shiver runs up your spine at how pliant he looks like this, ready and waiting for your cock.

You drop to your knees and place a long, loving kiss to his lips - the last kind thing you’ll be doing to his body tonight. It’s more like a spiderman kiss than a real kiss, and the angle’s a little awkward, but it’s worth it, because the content sound Chan makes into your mouth makes you leak a little more.

“You’re going to tap my thigh three times quickly if it gets to be too much, okay?” You say, voice low but kind. “Do it for me once now.”

His fingers reach out, long and lithe, and he taps your right thigh three times in succession, each tap firm and purposeful.

“If I get any sign that you’re trying to tap, even if it’s not as firm and nice as you did just now, I’m going to stop, okay?”

He nods, and you shake your head, giving his neck a gentle warning squeeze. “Words, jagi.”

“Yes, I understand, can you get to it now?” He huffs, eyes trying to glare up at you.

It’s mostly just cute because he’s upside down, a drool trail running up his cheek, and he’s still trying to give you commands. You laugh, the sound rumbling out of your chest, and he pouts, cheeks puffing out. You might, on another day, make fun of him for his desperation, but a part of you is pretty sure you’re not going to last very long in his throat, not when he’s spread out so pretty for you like this.

“I’m going, I’m going.” You respond, spitting into the palm of your hand and using it haphazardly to “lube” your cock.

It’s not a very efficient lubricant, but you have a feeling that Chan’s mouth is going to be more than wet enough to accommodate you. You cup the back of his head, angling his mouth just right, and start to slide in.

You take it slow, knowing how easy it is to make him gag around you. As hot as it is to make him choke on your cock, you don’t want him to throw up on it. You’re pretty sure that would be extremely unsexy, and you’d probably never get Chan to try and live out this fantasy ever again.

He moans when he tastes you on his tongue, and because he’s upside down and at your mercy, he’s having trouble controlling his spit. It’s already bubbling out the corners of his mouth, rivulets of it streaking down his cheeks. The hardwood floor below the two of you is probably going to have a puddle later, but that’s an issue for later.

Because right now, Chan’s barely taken half of your dick, and you can already feel the telltale signs of his throat trying to constrict around your cock and push it out. You stop right at the edge, just half of your cock stretching his mouth wide, the girth of you making him gargle and drool around you.

“Shhh, baby, that’s it,” you murmur, voice dripping with honey as you press just a little further into his mouth, “Breathe through your nose for me, okay? That’s it, so good, letting me stretch out your pretty little throat like this.”

He hums around you, a broken sound, and you have to do everything in your power not to just force the rest of your cock down his throat. You can’t really see his eyes, not from this angle, but a tilt of your head shows you that he's already blinking away tears, streaking into his hair or onto the floor if they flow just right. You twitch inside his mouth, and it makes him choke a moan out around you.

“No need to make any sounds, just lay there and take it, okay?” You hum, carefully sliding back just a bit only to press further than you were before, “Make me feel good, there we go. So pretty like this, so perfect and pliant.”

His hands clench in the sheets at your praise, a puddle of precum forming in the ridges of his abdomen where his cock lays, untouched and twitching pathetically. He’s never been good at being complimented, at being told how good or how pretty he is, but when he’s like this, he has no way to oppose you, no way to fight back. It makes you keep cooing little praises at him, reminding him how good he’s being and how he’s taking it “like a pro.” 

You’re dangerously close to being buried to the hilt when your thumb comes to brush his throat, and a sick thrill runs up your spine when you realize that he’s literally stretching to accommodate your cock, throat bulging subtly where your cock fills it up. You let out a choked sound of your own, high in your throat, a quiet “fuck” escaping your mouth as you trace the shape of you lightly with your fingertips.

“Jagi, jagi,” you coo, voice trailing off into a breathy moan, “Oh, sweet thing, look at you. Throat stretching like a good little cocksleeve. My perfect cocksleeve, making me feel so good.”

You reach the hand that was tracing his throat forward to tap twice on his bicep, and he gets the memo, fingers coming up to tangle with yours. You guide his hand to his own throat, and as you finally get yourself buried to the hilt, you let go of his hand and wrap his fingers around his own throat, around the outline of your cock that’s there.

His hips buck into nothing off the bed, and he chokes obscenely on your dick, a wet and broken sound, eyes rolling back into his head. You’re so incredibly close, the tightness of his throat and the heat of it around you almost unbearable, but you pull back a bit, letting him collect himself before you push forward again.

“Can I fuck your throat, jagi?” You ask, voice breathless and tight with tension, “Please, baby, wanna fuck your throat, want to fill you up. You’ll let me, won’t you? Let me fuck your pretty throat full, let me stretch you wide open.”

You pull out of his mouth and he takes a heaving breath, blinking fat tears out of his eyes to look up at you past your cock. His tongue darts out and he strains his neck so that he can swirl his tongue around the crown of your dick, teasing the slit and dipping into it. You groan, hand cupping the back of his head squeezing it appreciatively.

He tries to speak, but no words come out, just a croak, and he hacks, trying to get his voice back.

“Please.” His voice is quiet and broken, barely able to crackle out, but you know what he means.

“You know what to do if you want me to stop.”

It’s the only warning he gets before you’re pressing back into his mouth. You start slower, carefully angling his head so that it’s easiest for you to slide all the way to the hilt without choking him. Once you reach the hilt though, and Chan’s hand, still on his throat, squeezes you through his own skin, you can’t help the way your hips start to roll. Your thrusts are shallow, careful, but they aren’t slow, and he gags when you thrust just a little too hard and your tip presses against the back of his throat too harshly. He tightens up so nicely when you do, though, so you do it a couple more times, revelling in the sound he makes every time.

It doesn’t take much for you to get close - you were already worked up before you even pressed into the heat of his mouth, and now that it engulfs you fully, you can see stars dancing at the corner of your vision. You’re babbling out praise, tongue loose and words jumbled because he just squeezes around you so good, throat shaping around your dick in a way that makes your eyes roll back.

“Fuck, I’m guh-gonna come, gonna fill you up,” you grit out, pace getting a little uncontrolled and bucks getting a little harsher as the coil in your stomach threatens to snap, “Swallow it all like a good boy, my good boy, I love you, love you, thank you jagi, thank you thank you thank you-”

You cut yourself off, a soundless moan forcing your jaw to drop and your cock pressing as deep as you can go into Chan’s throat. He chokes around you, and it just makes you come even harder, spurts of hot cum coating the inside of his throat. Some of it escapes past the corner of his mouth, overflowing as you just keep coming, filling him up more than he can take. He moans around you, still gagging as you thrust a few more times, riding out your high. His fingers come to dig into your thighs, but they don’t tap, so you keep your cock at the back of his throat until you start to soften in his mouth, oversensitivity blurring into something painful instead of pleasurable.

The second you’re out of his mouth you don’t waste a single second. You manhandle him so that he’s still on his back, but now his head is laying on the pillows near the headboard, eyes teary and mouth coated with your release. You surge forward and taste yourself on his lips, the kiss messy, a swirl of your spits and your own cum mixing in your mouths.

You shimmy down his body until you’re eye level with his cock, and while he’s smaller than you are, he’s still got some heft to him, and your mouth waters as you swoop down to swallow around him. His hands scramble to tangle into your hair, both of them, and he wails, hips bucking up into your mouth. It doesn’t take long, Chan too keyed up to hold on very long. You let him thrust into your mouth once, twice, three times, and then on the fourth he’s coming, the salty taste of him filling your mouth. You swallow as much as you can just as he did for you, humming when you can tell he’s starting to get sensitive just to watch him squirm.

With his come still in your mouth, you slide back up and kiss him, and the kiss is nasty. Your cum and his, your spit and his, it all becomes one in your mouths, the kiss all teeth and tongue and salt. Chan moans weakly, fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of your neck to pull you impossibly close.

When you can no longer support yourself, body aching and tired from your release, you collapse onto the bed next to him, rolling onto your back. Chan slots himself under your arm and presses his head to your chest, hand coming to rest right over your heart.

“I love you,” he says quietly, once the silence has slipped into something comfortable and familiar, “I love you so much.”

“Love you too, Channie.” You say with a yawn.

“Who loves me?” He huffs back, gently nipping your chest to make you jolt.

“Ow. I love you, Channie,” you say, rolling your eyes, though it’s affectionately, “I love you so, so much. Now go to bed, and rest your voice.”

He hums contently, and drifts off, and once you slip the comforter over the both of you, you drift off too. You’ll probably both be feeling sticky and gross in the morning, but that’s a problem for tomorrow morning, not for now. For now, you just curl into your pretty boyfriend, glad that curiosity got the better of you. Curiosity may kill the cat, but satisfaction surely brought it back. With one last kiss to the crown of Chan’s head, you let sleep overtake you, more than satisfied with the results of your curiosity.

it went like this back and forth for months, robert was curious about you, you didn't take notice of anything, and thankfully, robert didn't know of you being the same shitty villain that he'd usually bust or shoo away. since you knew your wings were an obvious thing to connect the dots for, you find ways to hide them.

and by hiding those wings, it'd always be binding them, or if you wanna take more extra precautions, you'd wear a trench coat.

aside from that, you overheard somewhere that your friendly neighbor robert works for SDN now, and that his name is robert, you've heard of SDN before, superhero dispatch network or whatever, sounded really.. interesting, it made your ears perk when you heard it was about reforming villains into heroes too.

you thought of joining it before, but that means you have to stop being a so-called criminal, shoplifting and scaring employers away when they yell at you to pay for whatever you have on hand. you can't just give that up yet, you don't wanna spend- or well, waste, your money over something that'll stay temporarily inside of your organs.

people were afraid of you, some weren't- just because you're always at the scene of some ridiculous crime such as somehow burning down a place (whether it's an accident or you just wanna fuck around), destroying public property, or stealing.

you never labelled yourself, you didn't care. you're just.. existing there. people have called you “the fallen angel” or whatever corny name they always have in mind, thinking it's badass and fitting for someone like you.

some names are just flat out insults towards you, you didn't care either. some mocked and laughed at how cool your fit is but do the wicked shit at the comical places you're always at. it's true, but you never really considered yourself as a villain at the first place. just a man who loves to have fun.

speaking of fun, you found out that mecha man recently (and by recently, over 2 months ago) died, or at least the suit itself was destroyed? something like that, it was an explosion too, shown in the news footage. now that he's gone, it feels like your way of fun will be less entertaining now.

not like you missed him, you missed his presence, but you hate him, his comments really got to you, but you can tell that he didn't like you as well. you've said some severe things that got underneath his skin, even if they were guesses or something else, whatever else you may have said, it seemed to piss him off.

tonight, your way of fun will be going to the bar, the sardine. not to make a scene or anything, but just to have a drink, chat with some people, hope to God no one starts a fight, you're not in the mood for any of those right now.

entering in the bar, you look around the place before sighing through your nose and buying whatever shitty drink you can afford. taking a seat and a swig of the shot glass, you could feel yourself getting rather irritated more than having fun, you can feel someone staring at you. and it was someone beside you.

your right plume twitches and jerks, finally deciding to glance to your side with a glare - that glare softening in shock as you saw your neighbor, robert. you nearly said something that would outright expose you quickly, your mouth opening to speak but fortunately, you stopped yourself.

looking down to the man's lower body, his jacket fits him nicely, you thought. "you gonna stare at me all night or?" you finally got to voice something out, taking the glass in your hand and pointing at him.

robert's stare at you hardens slightly, a heavy and long silence between you and him, before he finally speaks up. "i'm sorry, you seem familiar. have I.. seen you before?"

you swallow substantially, shit, does he recognize you even with this masquerade mask on? or is it-

"you'reee.. that, fallen angel that people call."

you felt your wings relax, you didn't even realize they were tensed up. "oh, yeah. that's.. me." you were quite confused, but relieved. "I can't be that popular for someone like you to know of me too."

your words bring an eyebrow raise at you, robert hums and slightly leans onto the counter. "saw you before while I was taking a stroll." you absolutely do not believe that. you're pretty sure you'd remember if you saw him while you were doing your usual shenanigans.

"right, I don't think I've seen you before," you finish another glass, "and I remember the people's faces around me very.." you lean close to him, eyes narrowing. "clearly."

silence hang low for a moment once more, robert glowers back at your (colored) orbs, yours being less intense, bordering on playful. the corner of your lips tugs to a smirk with a content hum. "if you may excuse me, i'll be at the bathroom." you slide off your chair, giving him the same small smile you'd give when you see him across the apartment hall.

you don't even remember how this happened. your mind focused on your wings stretching and fluttering wildly, breath staggering as robert's callous hand places itself on one of your plume, gripping onto your metacarpal, your free one wavering with struggle.

"I had a feeling you're familiar." robert mutters, his other hand keeping your body pressed down onto the shitty bathroom counter. "ghhk- ffuck-! let me.. go!" you scowl, you knew damn well who this was now, it all made sense, you remembered the time seeing those robotic parts being taken away by some big man. you were already suspicious of it ever since then.

you could feel how hot your head felt, throbbing, it felt like you over-pushed yourself with running and doing any other exercises, even if that wasn't the case. "what are you doing at the villain bar out of all places even, mecha man? superhero bar didn't treat you nice enough anymore? or or- wait, it's because you're not a real hero anymore, yeah?" you felt your wing being stretched forcefully, making you let out a pained gasp. should've kept your mouth shut.

he turned you around to face him and shoved you onto the mirror with his fists still clenching onto your top clothing, your behind cracking the glass with force as you propelled his face away with your foot with a grunt, knocking him probably two feet away from you. before he even gets to look at you and charge, you pounced on him, keeping him pinned onto the ground.

"I think it'd be best if you don't even make a move, robert." you snarl, one hand moving to his neck as you apply a small amount of pressure against his skin, you could feel his pulse fluttering. robert — expectedly — got to put both his hands on yours. "I won't hurt you, if you don't fuck around, and I'm a man of my words." your voice laced with venom, glaring daggers down to the other man.

"you- know my name?" you can tell in his eyes, he looked more amused than shocked, or surprised. "what's it matter to you? I could know anybody." you muse, knowing damn well you weren't being honest at this part. "don't worry your pretty little head, I don't go around telling people who you are. I work alone." you're sure he won't believe you quickly, he can only hope, and so hope is what he does.

"you know, it'd be quite easy to kill you while you're pinned down like this." your free hand trails to robert's jaw, tracing it with your pointer. "hm. you look pretty like this too." robert seemed confused with your actions, you could feel his face getting warmer and warmer.

"stare all night if you want, it won't last forever." before you knew it, robert got to sit up and slam his forehead against yours, the force of it sending you back to your back, rear landing onto the grimy floor as robert kicks you down, placing his foot on your stomach while you let out an agonized grunt.

placing your hand on your forehead, trying to soothe the pain as you hiss, you look up at robert with a dirty look. "you fucking- di-"

"are you done yet?" robert's voice rang in the fucked up bathroom, his foot pressing harder onto your abdomen as you feel your body tensing up even more, feathers falling out of distress. you squirm and wriggle underneath him until you felt robert's stare going down.

..no way.

you were getting a hard on over this. over robert putting you in your place like this, over robert's boot stepping down onto your stomach- this was humiliating. you make an attempt to sit up and just flee this whole situation but you couldn't even do that as you felt the other man's boot putting pressure onto your obvious boner.

robert hums in curiosity, seeming engrossed by the scene. "you're.. getting off to this?" damn it. his voice wasn't helping this whole thing at all. you felt your blood boil, wanting to genuinely kill him this time. "what are you gonna do about it? suck me off? you're not the only freak here."

"well, I didn't say anything like that." he adds more pressure, making your breath hitch and choke, your head throwing back against the gross ground. "I fucking hate you," you breathe out with gritted teeth, legs twitching.

gasping and digging your nails onto the counter, you felt one wing being pulled as robert drives his hips against yours, his length driving into you as he feels you clenching around him like a bitch in heat. you couldn't even see robert's face in the mirror thanks to your large wings covering him, you can only see your own expressions, what a way to humiliate someone even more.

"asshole- 'm gonna fucking.. kill you," you growl, breath all ragged. robert didn't respond, slowly grinding his hips and sheathing all inches inside you, making your brain short circuit. "keep staring at yourself, angel." he nibbles on the nape of your skin, the nickname and bite just made your cock throb and ache more, fuck.

"like I'll listen to what you'd say- f- ffngh!" your eyes well up with stinging tears, robert giving your poor fowl limb a harsh grasp, your entire body writhing, including the free flight feather. "f- fine-! fine! fuck, don't..." your dick beads a copious amount of precum, weeping and yearning to be touched. "good job." robert softens his hold on you.

"you're a.. sick, sick man, robert." you felt him pull out until the head was remaining inside, before slamming his hips against yours once more, his pace was slow, torturous, like he wanted to piss you off twice as much. "could you go any slower?"

"you want me to go slower?"

"not what I meant."

"what did you mean?"

"robert. don't do this." you look over your shoulder to face him, lowering your wing as he tilts his head at you, feigning innocence while he's deep inside you. "do what, to be exact?" his voice was close to a purr, his voice always sound like that- but, it doesn't stop your sick twisted way of desire. whatever this is.

before you could even speak up again, robert tugs onto radius area of your plume. "keep your eyes to the mirror, angel." this is getting infuriating. robert slowly pulls out, giving you the chance to turn around and ambush him.

you refused to let robert talk, or do anything else. you straddle the man's hips, aligning your slicked up hole and sluggishly sink around his dick with a wince. "I hate you," you pant, hands on robert's shoulders as you arch your back. "I fucking hate you, your cocky demeanor- your voice, you-" sucking in a sharp breath, you felt robert's dick faintly hitting your prostate.

"oh god," you susurrate, you couldn't care less about the feathers languidly falling off, more concentrated on riding and clawing robert's back, you very much plan to leave any marks on him, he deserved it after all. it doesn't matter if he already has so much scars.

robert rests his hands on your hips, guiding them and watching your cock bounce every movement you make as he listens to the melody of your groans and grunts, every move of your hips send electric shocks to his groin, could feel himself getting slowly closer and closer.

you lean to robert's right shoulder — hips never stopping — your right hand lowering to robert's forearm as you sink your teeth onto the tender flesh, robert's hips buck up in response with a curse under his breath.

none of you got the moment to speak, too focused on actions rather than words, you place every mark you can place on robert's skin, robert's hold on your tightens, you were positive it'll leave crescent-shaped bruises afterwards.

you can tell you were close to your orgasm as well, your cock making a mess of precum on robert's shirt. it gave you the satisfaction that you'd make a mess on his top though, he'd look all dirty and disgusting with it. just how you wanted.

you speed up your bounces ever so slightly, huffing and murmuring nonsense, your legs were so close to giving up but you didn't want to stop mid-sex, that'd be fucking sad. you're close to cumming as well, and so as robert too.

you felt your vision go white, stomach twisting into a knot as you felt robert pulling you all the way down to his own dick with a guttural moan, you muffled your own moan by biting down on his flesh. your cock twitches before it releases ribbons of your cum, painting robert's shirt with it, finally.

your bodies relax, chests rising up and down, the bathroom smelled like sweat, alcohol, and sex, but neither of you cared. what you did care was robert cumming in your ass. "you should've pulled out, dick."

"and you should've not made a mess on my shirt."

was that the only shirt he has?