đ KINKTOBER 2025 â DAY 27
⥠Title: Shock Value
đ Genre: Smut | Hair Pulling | Gangbang | Rough Sex | Exhibitionism | Consent Play
đź Fandom:âŻFairy Tail
đ„ Pairing:âŻLaxus Dreyar Ă Female ReaderâŻ(+ Guild Members)
đ Summary:
It began as a whimâsome drunk guild bet, a dare scrawled in jest. You werenât supposed to care. But Laxus noticed the challenge beside your name. Now youâre on your knees in the guild hall, wrists bound, hair tugged hard, heat and humiliation swirling as the others circle. When Laxus finally claims you, itâs not about the bet anymoreâitâs about dominance, submission, and proving who you belong to.
SMUT WARNING! READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!
It started as a drunken guild betâsome half-serious challenge scribbled between bounty postings, a dare buried beneath nonsense about drinking contests and sparring rematches. You werenât even supposed to notice it. It was a joke, something meant to get laughs over mugs of beer and spilled stew.
But Laxus noticed.
Something in him went still. Not anger. Not quite. It was darkerâpossessiveness coiled with pride, tempered by the glint of something territorial in his eyes. It wasnât about the bet. It was about you. And when he saw your name beside the dareâLet [Y/N] take on the Thunder God Tribe, bet she canât last five minutesâhe didnât laugh.
He just smirked. And made sure the training hall was cleared.
Now you're on your knees in the middle of the floor, the stone cool beneath your bare skin, wrists bound tight behind your back with a silk sash someone âborrowedâ from Erzaâs closet. Your arms ache, your thighs tremble, but itâs the grip on your scalp that keeps you still. Laxus stands behind you, one thick hand buried in your hair, holding you in place like a trophy heâs showing off.
He doesnât like to share. Heâs made that very clear.
But when itâs his ideaâwhen heâs the one in chargeâeverything becomes fair game.
The rest of the boys are circling now. Freedâs shirt is already gone, abs glistening with sweat. Bickslowâs tongue flicks over his lip, pupils blown wide as he eyes the way you writhe under Laxusâs grip. Even Evergreenâs watching from the shadows, arms crossed and eyes sharpânot joining, but not stopping it either. Thereâs something amused in her gaze, like sheâs taking mental notes, enjoying the spectacle in her own quiet, dangerous way, smirking like she knows how this ends.
The bet doesnât matter anymore. This is about Laxus proving a point.
He leans down, breath hot at your ear.
âFive minutes?â he growls. âLetâs see how many times you can come in ten.â
His hand yanks your head back as he forces your gaze upâpast his smirk, past the others unbuckling their beltsâto the guild crest above the door. Itâs the only thing youâre allowed to focus on as Laxus shoves his fingers past your lips, curling them against your tongue until you gag.
âThatâs it,â he mutters. âLet âem hear how pretty you sound when you choke.â
What follows is a blur of teeth and skin and sound. Hands roam your bodyârough, eager. Fingers tease your nipples, twist them. A palm strikes your ass, the sting blooming instantly, making you jolt forward. Someoneâs cock rubs against your cheek. Another slaps against your thigh.
And Laxus? He never lets go of your hair.
Every time you squirm too much, his fist tightens. Every moan earns a rough tug. His voice is a constant in your earâtaunting, praising, commanding.
âYou wanted this.â
âDonât pretend youâre not soaked.â
âLook how greedy that cunt is.â
They take turns using your mouth, your pussy, your assâeach moment blurring into the next in a dizzying flood of sensation. One thrusts deep while another strokes your cheek, another tugs at your hips with bruising force. Itâs not just useâitâs rhythm, contrast, a dance of dominance that leaves your body shaking and your mind unmoored. The pressure, the fullness, the stretchâyou feel everything, everywhere, all at onceâeach thrust more punishing than the last. They fuck you like a toy passed between brothers, laughing, growling, praising you for how well you take it. Itâs filthy. Messy. Overwhelming. Lube and spit and cum slick every inch of your body.
And through it all, Laxus watches.
He only joins in once youâre wreckedâgagged, drooling, and reduced to something raw and pliant. When he finally steps in, itâs not with haste but with a slow, deliberate dominance that says youâre his to finish. His eyes flick down over your bodyânot with sympathy, but with the satisfaction of a predator knowing the prey is exactly where it should be. Then, and only then, does he kneel behind you, his cock already hard, the head pressed between your cheeks.
âMine now,â he grunts, and the stretch burns.
You sob, but your hips roll back anyway.
He grabs a fistful of your hair, yanks your head up again, and snarls against your ear.
âSay it. Say who you belong to.â
And you do.
Over and over, until the others are laughing, until Laxus is groaning and emptying inside you, until the air smells like sweat and sex and thunder magic crackling through the floor.
By the end, your throatâs raw. Your legs wonât hold you. You collapse in a trembling mess across his lap, his arms the only thing keeping you from sliding onto the floor.
He kisses your temple. Rough. Possessive.
And when someone dares ask if you lost the betâ
Laxus chuckles darkly. âShe didnât lose.â
He strokes your thigh, voice dropping into something low and dangerous.
âShe just learned who she belongs toâjust like he told her from the beginning. Just like she screamed through the gag while he made her prove it.â
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