#floyd x reader

Riddle Rosehearts

You step into the lounge where Riddle is already waiting, pocket watch in hand, posture perfect as always. He looks up. His eyes go wide. Then wider. Then enormously wide. The pocket watch slips from his fingers and clatters to the floor.

“You…you’re not even dressed!” he’s voice cracking on the last word.

You blink. Look down at yourself. Look back at him. “…I am dressed, Riddle.”

He makes a strangled noise somewhere between a gasp and a teakettle. His face goes from pale to rose red in record time. He takes one step forward, then stops like he’s hit an invisible wall, hands fluttering uselessly. “That is…not… that garment barely qualifies as clothing!”

You cross your arms, which only makes the neckline dip lower, he makes another strangled sound and averts his eyes so fast you’re worried he’ll give himself whiplash. “Riddle, it’s just a dress. I feel cute in it.”

“Cute is one word.” he mutters, still staring at the ceiling. “Another word is dangerous to my health.”

He finally looks at you again and takes a deep, steadying breath. “For the sake of my sanity, my blood pressure… please. Change. Or at least add a cardigan. A very long cardigan.”

When you pout he looks genuinely pained. “…I’ll wear the matching couple’s jacket you like. The one with the hearts. Please...”

You end up compromising, you throw on that jacket. But he still blushes every time the light hits it just right.

Ace Trappola

Ace is on the couch scrolling magicam when you walk in. He glances up casually then does a double take so hard his phone almost flies out of his hand. “Holy…babe. Babe.”

A huge, dorky, shit eating grin spreads across his face. He sits up straight, leans forward, props his chin in both hands like he’s at the theater watching the best show of his life. “Turn around. Yeahhh, that’s the stuff. Damn, you’re serving tonight.”

He’s openly stare, eyes sparkling, already mentally saving mental screenshots. You do a little spin for him and he whistles. Then…about five seconds later…reality crashes in. “Wait. Wait wait wait. We’re going out. Like, to the town. Around people. Who will also see this.”

The grin falters. He suddenly looks like a man who just realized he left his wallet at home after ordering the most expensive thing on the menu. “Nope. No way. Absolutely not.”

He jumps up, yanks his hoodie off in one motion, and practically shoves it at you. “At least put this on. Please. I’m begging. I’ll literally get on my knees. I cannot handle every single guy staring at my girlfriend’s…” he gestures vaguely at your entire torso “everything.”

You raise a brow. “Jealous, Trappola?”

“Territorial!” he corrects instantly. “Huge difference. Now put the hoodie on before I start crying or start a fight. Probably both.”

He spends the entire date with his arm glued around your waist, glaring at anyone who looks longer than two seconds. The hoodie stays on. He still sneaks peeks at your back side every chance he gets.

Leona Kingscholar

You step out and announce “Ready!” with a little twirl.

Leona already half dozing against the wall, cracks one eye open. Then both. He drags his gaze very slowly from your ankles all the way up, lingering shamelessly on every exposed inch before meeting your eyes. A lazy smirk curls his lips.

“You’re gonna be cold.” he drawls. “And then you’re gonna whine about it. Loudly. For hours.”

You huff. “I won’t whine.”

“You always whine.” He pushes off the wall, stretches like a big cat. “But if you’re comfortable freezing your pretty ass off just to look hot, that’s on you, herbivore.”

He doesn’t try to stop you. Doesn’t demand you change. Doesn’t even look particularly bothered. Instead he just grabs his own jacket off the back of a chair, slings it over one shoulder, and jerks his head toward the door. “Let’s go. If you start shivering I’m draping this over you whether you like it or not. And then I’m gonna say ‘told you so’ until you beg me to shut up.”

He does exactly that three blocks later. You’re warped up in his jacket, and he’s walking with smug satisfaction while you grumble. He just mutters “Cute when you’re stubborn.”

Floyd Leech

You step out in the outfit and do a playful little “ta-da!”

Floyd’s eyes light up like Christmas lights. His grin stretches ear to ear, sharp teeth on full display. “Ehhhh〜? Shrimpy looks delicious todayyy~”

You laugh and do a spin, asking “What do you think? Is it too much? Too revealing? I wasn’t sure if…”

He’s not listening…At all.

His mismatched eyes are locked on your cleavage like it personally owes him money. Head tilted. Pupils blown wide.

“…Floyd?”

“Mmm?” Still staring.

“Eyes up here.”

He blinks slowly. Drags his gaze upward like it physically pains him. The grin somehow gets wider. “Too revealing? Nahhh〜 It’s perfect. Shows off all my favorite parts~”

He reaches out, hooks one long finger under the neckline “I could stare at this all day. Let’s cancel going out.”

You swat his hand away. He pouts dramatically but lets you drag him toward the door.

He spends the entire date with his arm slung possessively around you, chin resting on top of your head, occasionally dipping down to whisper little compliments directly into your ear. Half the time he’s not even watching where he’s going, he’s too busy enjoying the view.

Jamil Viper

You walk out confidently. Jamil looks up from where he’s adjusting his bracelets. His eyes flick over you once head to toe then again, slower.

“You look gorgeous” he says, voice smooth and appreciative.

You start to smile.

“Now go change.”

Your smile drops. “What?”

He doesn’t even look guilty. Just raises one brow like you’re being unreasonable. “That outfit is for private viewing only. We’re going to a public place with other people who have eyes. Change.”

You open your mouth to argue. He cuts you off with a single look, the ‘we both know how this ends’ look.

You try anyway. “But I like it. And you just said I look gorgeous.”

“You do. Which is why I’m not sharing the view.” He steps closer, voice dropping. “Change. Or I’ll carry you back in there myself and pick something else out. Your choice.”

You cross your arms. He just waits, patient, unruffled. Three minutes later you’re back in something significantly less revealing. Jamil gives a small, satisfied nod. “Good. Now we can go.”

He still keeps a protective hand on your lower back the entire time you’re out. Just in case.

Lilia Vanrouge

You step out and Lilia’s eyes light up like fireworks. “Fufufu! Darling, you look stunning! Absolutely ravishing!”

He floats in a quick circle around you, clapping his hands in delight. “The cut! The color! The way it hugs every curve! Perfection! And ohhh~” He stops behind you. “Your booty looks gorgeous in this! A true work of art!”

You laugh, half embarrassed, half flattered. “Is it… too much? Does it bother you that it’s so revealing?”

Lilia blinks at you like you just asked something unbelievable. “Bother me? My sweet love, I love the vibe! You’re confident, you’re sexy, you’re turning heads before we even leave the room, why would that bother me?” He grins, fangs glinting. “I want everyone to see what a gorgeous person I’ve claimed.”

Then he claps once. “Wait right there! One moment!”

He zips away in a blur. Thirty seconds later he’s back now wearing low cut shirt with a cropped black jacket with silver chains, leather pants, and boots that match yours perfectly. “Now we match~ Shall we go cause chaos, my love?”

You two end up getting stopped for photos almost every ten feet. You two hold too much power.

Finals season is close, too close, and the stress piled up over the entire year, stacking arguments, controlled and uncontrolled magic, fights, exams, and practical tests on top of each other, has left everyone’s brains practically melted. The unbirthday party of this day, or rather, this night, pushes aside the comfort zone and Riddle’s beloved (though often questioned) rules and simply… lets itself be felt. Even Crowley pretends not to notice that Heartslabyul is far too alive and awake for this hour, that several dorm mirrors glow constantly as students come and go, drifting in and out of the Queen of Hearts’ dorm.

Candles float above the rose gardens and over your head, music makes the walls tremble, and a dessert table stands proud enough to embarrass most royal banquets, most of the sweets provided by Trey and the Octavinelle staff.

The whole place vibrates with that untamable energy, the complete opposite of what once was the most structured and rigid dorm on campus. Now the aura of the lounge and the rose maze hums faintly dangerous, the kind of thing that happens when you gather a crowd of magically inclined, hormone-fueled students buzzing on caffeine and tell them, “Have fun!... responsibly, please.”

You’re not sure who decided that “responsibly” included spiking the punch, but judging by how Ace guards the bowl like a dragon protecting its treasure, wearing a suspiciously smug grin he shares with Cater, it’s no longer just fruit juice and sugar in there.

“Family tradition,” Ace whispers, pouring the contents of a flask into the bowl. Judging by the amber liquid with bright undertones, it’s probably not something that should be on campus.

Deuce trails behind him, muttering something about decency and morning-after regret, while the rest of the crowd already lines up for a taste. Even Jade watches the punch as if he’s about to inspect it in a laboratory. Meanwhile, Kalim dumps, again, maybe for the second or third time? A bag full of sweets and chocolates straight from his homeland onto the dessert table because, in his words, “everything tastes better when chaos is shared.”

You know you should pace yourself, but there’s something about the way the punch glows under the colored lights, mingling with the scent of roses from the maze, the rich, indescribable fillings of chocolates from the Scalding Sands, and the way the air hums with anticipation that makes you feel euphoric just by breathing. One glass becomes two, then three. You lose count of how many times you laugh until your sides ache, or how many times you feel an arm draped around your shoulders.

You see Floyd dragging people into a conga line that ends with someone accidentally knocking over a lamp and Riddle shouting at the next person in sight. Jade and Azul pretend to “sample” desserts, only to linger near the table and overhear the arguments and troubles of potential new unfortunate souls.

A hand grabs your wrist to pull you onto the improvised dance floor: was it Epel? Or maybe it was Ruggie before he taught you that wild Savanaclaw-style drinking song?

You remember Cater snapping an immeasurable amount of photos, surely for Magicam; or perhaps, in the darker corner of your mind, to stockpile enough blackmail material to make even Azul blush.

From the lounge window, you can see Lilia floating over the rose bushes, plucking roses to assemble a suspiciously beautiful bouquet, mixing red and white. A moment later, he sweeps inside and scatters them everywhere, like confetti made of nature itself.

Everything is too bright, too warm, spinning slightly off-axis. Someone brushes your rebellious hair away from your face, their thumb lingering a second too long against your cheek. You feel a body press behind you, bold hands resting on your hips, the brush of lips against your ear whispering words that make your heart race. The party fades into the background, dissolving into murmurs as you slip away with that person down a dim hallway, stumbling over your own feet, more intoxicated by touch than by alcohol.

The small details stay on your mind and on your skin: a door closing behind you, laughter turning into something softer, slower, more dangerous. The taste of something sweet on your lips before being coaxed onto your tongue; the sensation of arms boxing you in, a faint scratch trailing down your back, the way your body arches toward that contact almost automatically. A gasp, a shiver, the delicious ache of desire.

The night dissolves into fragmented images: a moan—yours or theirs—muffled laughter against your collarbone, cool air on overheated skin, need melting into satisfaction. Words are whispered, some too soft to understand, others too bold to repeat in the daylight.

And then… nothing.

Morning arrives with a pounding headache. You can’t even open your eyes because the sun—so warm and ever-present, usually there to comfort and burn in equal measure—is now your natural enemy. Your body feels heavy and sore in places you didn’t even know existed, and trying to move is like trying to shift a boulder. Your legs are jelly, and there’s a sweet, buzzing sensation between them.

╌╌╌╌╌╌𖤐☽༓☾𖤐╌╌╌╌╌╌𖤐☽༓☾𖤐╌╌╌╌

Riddle

It’s the annoying knocking against the door that wakes you, not the pounding in your head, although that is definitely there, and with every knock, knock, knock the pain increases.

You don’t want to get out of bed, but the more the knocking continues, the more your head throbs. You groan in frustration and roll over in bed, every muscle sore, your skin tingling from somewhere deep in your bones. You force yourself to get up, eyes squeezed shut against the sunlight.

Your feet touch the cold, hard floor and, with the muscle memory of a half-asleep zombie, you shuffle forward. You slam your shin hard against a heavy piece of furniture...a piece you don’t remember being there. “Fuck!” you hiss, hopping forward, and your foot lands on something soft and suspiciously like clothing.

…weird.

You keep walking with your eyes closed and reach the door still wrapped in a fog of sleep. You try to find the doorknob, which you’ve opened thousands of times in a dreamlike state, except today it’s strangely difficult to locate. The knocking continues.

You open the door, squinting, and find Trey standing there, perplexed, his eyes trailing down your body before quickly snapping upward toward the ceiling.

Why? Simple… because you’re naked from head to toe.

Wait… this isn’t your dorm, this isn’t your furniture, this isn’t your door…

You’re in one of Heartslabyul’s many gravity-defying hallways.

You look down and notice your nudity and do what any rational person would do… you shriek and slam the door in his face. You step back, tripping over a bundle of red and white clothing scattered together with pieces of your uniform.

The memories hit you like a bucket of cold water: Riddle’s cheeks slightly flushed, already affected by the punch, his lips swollen from kissing you so much, stammering your name in the middle of the crowd.

His nervous, sweaty hands when you led him upstairs to his room during the party, both of you slipping away from the others’ vulture-like gazes. Ace shouting in the background that Riddle was finally going to “get his dick wet” The forbidden thrill when he whispered as you reached his room, “This breaks several rules…” only to pull you closer and kiss you with intensity and nerves.

The way his fingers trembled when he touched you, soft but urgent, as if memorizing every curve, as if you were a new book he was desperate to dive into, his breathing shaky as he undressed you.

The scent of freshly cut roses and strawberries on his skin when you leaned down to kiss him again and again and again, trailing from his sweet, soft lips to his neck, collarbone, and chest.

His eyes widening when you straddled him, brushing your wet folds against his half-hard cock. The back-and-forth motion, rubbing your clit against him, letting your slick coat him and grow harder against you.

“Let me take care of you, Riddle,” you whispered before taking his cock in your hand and guiding it to your entrance, sliding down slowly; his body rigid, unsure where to place his hands, losing control as pleasure pushed him beyond every rule and ounce of self-control.

You remember taking his hands in yours and placing them on your breasts, teaching him how to touch you, massage you, even pinch your nipples. Your movements starting slow, but with every moan, yours and Riddle’s, turning into desperate bounces, feeling your spongy walls tighten around him more and more.

Fragments of his choked voice, nearly pleading, “Don’t stop… don’t… please, don’t stop,” his tone thick with desire and a hint of shame, biting his lips when you moaned too loudly, as if afraid of being heard but unable to ask you to quiet down. Your clit constantly rubbing against his pelvis, making you see stars as you cum around him with Riddle’s name on your lips.

His hands, now free from yours, still uncertainly massaging one breast while the other gripped your thigh, moving you harder and more desperately; his cock finishing inside you after a few more thrusts, filling you with him. “No… I’m not finished with you,” his words dissolving into a soft groan before flipping you onto your back and hovering above you.

His desperate mouth seeking yours, sloppy, clumsy kisses, his body pressed against yours as he started another round, messier, letting his semen spill from your cunt and soak his sheets.

The memory of his face afterward, undone and exhausted, eyes shining with satisfaction; his soft voice whispering against your hair, “I’ve never… felt something so delicious,” gently stroking your cheek with fingers still damp with your slick.

Your heart pounds rapidly in your chest.

Fuck… FUCK!

On the bed, covering his “indecencies,” sits Riddle, hair messy, mouth hanging open as if it might hit the floor. His eyes trail over your body, his face turning red, pale for a second, then red again… much redder.

“You just… opened the door? Like that?” His face matches his hair, arguably even redder.

He clutches the sheets, pulling them up to his chin with both hands, eyes now fixed on the ceiling, on his books, anywhere but your body out of mortification.

You, meanwhile, cover your face with both hands. “I just exposed myself in front of Trey!!… oh fucking hell.”

A muffled sound escapes Riddle’s lips… followed by a small laugh, very unlike him. You peek through your fingers; his blush spreads down his neck, his shoulders trembling slightly with laughter.

He seems… lighter… a little shy.

“You’re not… upset? Oh… well, upset might not be the right word.” If you start rambling, this won’t end well. “…What I mean is… did we do something you’re not happy or comfortable with?”

Please say no, please say no, please!!!

“Upset? No… I don’t think so.” Riddle is so shy he can barely meet your eyes. “Embarrassed, yes. Very… too much.” There’s a small pause that eats at you from the inside. “But I don’t regret anything.”

OH THANK SEVENS!!!

A wave of warmth rushes through you. Despite the humiliation, the chaos, there’s something strangely thrilling about waking up beside Riddle, seeing the strict prefect undone, hair messy, eyes soft just for you. You climb back into bed, pulling the blanket up to your chin and settling beside him, your head resting on his shoulder, feeling your pulse pounding in your throat.

“We’ll have to face Trey at some point.”

Riddle smiles and runs a hand over your hip.

“Yes, but perhaps… not yet.”

Floyd

Your head is a mess of fog and sharp pain, your body heavy with sweet exhaustion and tingling vibrations. You’re tangled in something soft; sheets, maybe. All you know is that you’re far too warm and every muscle feels deliciously worn out.

You try to move, but your legs are firmly trapped, wrapped and knotted in the sheets as if you’d fought a kraken in your sleep. You struggle to free yourself, throwing an arm toward the edge of the bed for support. You grab something solid and pull… and suddenly you’re on the floor.

The world spins, your shoulder slams against the ground, and a dead weight collapses on top of you, knocking the air out of your lungs.

You squeeze your eyes shut, too stunned to process the impact and the weight pressing down. A rough, sleepy, almost dangerous, growl reaches your ears, and you freeze. A hand plants itself beside your head, warm breath brushing your cheek.

Floyd is sprawled on top of you, one knee between your thighs, heavy and naked… oh sevens, he’s really naked.

And he is very, very close.

His eyes are half-lidded, sharp teeth peeking through a slowly spreading, wicked smile. “Heeey ~ Shrimpy~”

His husky voice sends a current down your spine, igniting places it shouldn’t. He shifts, pressing you harder into the floor, and you glance down to where his knee presses, realizing you’re just as naked as he is.

Shit. Shit. Shit. I’m going to die. I’m going to die. I’m going to die.

Floyd is on top of me. Floyd is naked. I’M GOING TO DIE.

SHIT!!!

“Hehe, you’re so cute when you’re scared.”

He leans down, rubbing his nose against your cheek, his hair falling over your face. You try to squirm, the sheets still tangled around your legs. “Floyd, get off—”

“Nah, you should’ve stayed in bed, Shrimpy~”

You’re painfully aware of every place your bodies touch: his hot skin, his muscles shifting as he stretches a little more over you, the sweet scent still lingering on his lips.

Your mind spins as blurry, burning memories resurface: Floyd dragging you away from the chaos of the party, his arm over your shoulders. “The party’s boring, let’s make our own.”

His kisses tasting like peppered chocolate, his teeth biting until you gasped, his laughter vibrating as he pushed you against the wall, taking you farther and farther and farther until your body ended up shoved toward a pool.

You resurfaced, gasping for air; Floyd diving in after you, his greedy, skilled hands catching you underwater, leaving you unable to move. His teeth sinking into your thigh, making you moan and writhe.

Floyd not stopping at one bite, peeling your soaked clothes from your skin with clumsy speed; every exposed patch of skin marked: inner thighs, collarbone, lower back, the curves of your ass. “You like it when I bite you, huh? Look at how your body trembles”

You remember his fingers finding your clit easily, his legs spreading yours, keeping you open for him. His lips, teeth, and tongue playing with your neck, sometimes kissing your pulse, other times biting until you whimpered.

The water and reflected light leaving your breasts on display, capturing your nipples in his mouth while he slid two fingers inside your cunt; just as you were about to cum, he stopped you with a hand at your throat while his fingers kept thrusting hard and fast. “Not yet, Shrimpy. I want to see you cry for it”

Floyd’s hips slamming into you the second he penetrated you, not letting you adjust properly. Sometimes he thrust so hard water splashed everywhere, other times he’d stop abruptly just to watch you, toying with your bruised nipples until you begged. “Floyd! Please… k-keep going!”

“Ask me better, Shrimpy, or I’ll twist your nipples until you cum from overstimulation,” resuming his movements painfully slow until tears ran down your face, mixing with the pool water; your pleas growing louder, shouting dirtier obscenities without shame.

“Please, please! Floyd!! Faster, I need you to move your cock faster! Deeper—play with my nipples if you want, but MOVE!” your hips grinding with his, trying to rub your clit against him; his hands gripping your hips hard and moving you with incredible strength.

The orgasm hitting like a blow, trembling from sheer excess; him not stopping, riding the wave with you, spreading your legs wider and thrusting deeper, his fingers playing with your clit before slipping two—maybe three—inside your wet cunt.

At some point in the night, ending up in his room, droplets of water trailing down your body while Floyd made you sit on him, lifting your hips easily, squeezing your thighs, your ass, smacking it; making you bounce on his cock at his rhythm, occasionally changing speed, laughing if you cried or moaned too loudly. “Does it hurt or do you like it, my little Shrimpy? I won’t spill inside until I break you.”

Back in the present, his smile sharpens even more—if that’s possible—while he studies your face from above. “You look dizzy, little Shrimpy.”

You squirm, half terrified, half something entirely different while his knee remains between your legs. You try to slide away across the floor, but Floyd won’t have it; he pins your hands on either side of your head, sliding his knee higher until it rests against your wet lips.

“You’re very tasty, hehe~ So messy, so mine… maybe we should stay like this all day.”

Your heart pounds, adrenaline buzzing, but your body shudders at his words, your wetness dampening his leg.

“Floyd…”

“Aww, don’t get shy now. Let me hear you beg again…”

Vil

You wake wrapped in a cocoon of silk, the light filtering in soft and golden through elegant curtains that definitely do not belong to your dorm room. There’s a sweet scent, like wild violets and expensive perfume… very expensive. Everything feels like a dream—the sheets perfectly folded, the sunlight gleaming over the wood, the sound of someone humming in the distance, a steady, low melody that is both comforting and majestic.

And the moment you move, that perfection collapses, because your entire body aches in the most deliciously possible… and mortifying way.

You shift a little more, settling into those noticeably expensive and sinfully soft sheets, and notice warm skin against other warm skin… yours; fingers tracing your hip and sliding up along your sides, the sensation relaxing yet faintly ticklish.

You open one eye and Vil gives you the softest smile you’ve ever seen him offer anyone. Radiant even in the morning, his hair spread across the pillow like a golden cloud, every perfect inch of him serene beneath the pleasant (and detestable to the eyes) sunlight.

Your heart nearly stops… how did a mere mortal like you achieve this? How did you end up in Vil Schoenheit’s bed?

“Good morning, Liebling.” Can someone’s voice truly sound velvety at this hour? Apparently his can. “Did you sleep well?”

You try to speak, but all that escapes your dry, over-kissed lips is an embarrassed sound. His, meanwhile, remain immaculate, curving further into a private smile just for you. He sits up and the sheets fall enough to gift you the sight of the delicate lines of his chest and shoulders.

Even after a wild party, he looks almost untouched, glowing under the soft light. You, on the other hand, feel disheveled, painfully aware of your state: smeared makeup, tangled hair, and a bewildered expression.

Vil brushes a strand from your face. “You have nothing to be ashamed of, darling. In fact…” He leans closer, stroking your cheek with his fingertips. “You’re dazzling like this… honest, real.”

Your cheeks burn as fragments of the previous night spiral back: his long, slender hands guiding you away from the chaos into a secluded room, the world fading as he tucked a rebellious strand behind your ear. “May I?” His kiss, light at first like the touch of a feather, then deepening until you melted in his arms.

You remember his skilled hands exploring every part of you, undoing button after button, exposing you freely before him. His fingers making you feel beautiful and desired, even as you stammered and trembled beneath their heat. His lips mapping every inch of revealed skin, describing what he found beautiful in each place.

The intensity of his focus, his eyes locked on yours while he drew every sound from your lips, making you feel like the center of his universe; his tongue on your neck, descending to your chest, tracing you with slow, controlled movements, his hand on your throat to keep you still as he circled a nipple with his tongue and captured it between his lips.

“Don’t move… I want to see you perfect, even undone,” his authoritative voice in a soft whisper as he moved lower and lower, across your stomach and abdomen until reaching your obscenely wet cunt, giving it a lick that left his mouth slick and stained.

The way he held your hips while thrusting into you from behind, in front of his massive mirror. You felt his cock sliding into you again and again and again, his hips striking your ass, admiring how it bounced against him. One hand pinning both of yours behind your back, the other gripping your hair, pulling your head back so you could see yourself in the reflection.

Your moans filling the room as he began to fuck you harder, your body pressed tighter to the mirror, your breasts bouncing with each thrust, barely holding yourself upright, tears filling your eyes as you met his gaze in the glass.

The ease with which he turned you, lifting one leg over his hip, pressing your ass against the mirror—surely leaving a sweat mark—and pushing harder and deeper. “You are a beautiful mess.”

The way he denied you over and over, promising that when he finally allowed you at the end of the night it would be the strongest, most powerful thing you’d ever feel. And it was; one final burst and the orgasm exploded between you, making you tremble from head to toe for several seconds while you felt him finish inside your tight walls, drawing even more spasms from you.

You remember how Vil cleaned you with care, combing your hair with his fingers. “You are the most beautiful of all sins.”

Intense doesn’t even come close to describing the blush that so beautifully paints not only your cheeks but your entire body.

“Are you regretting it?” The softness of the question strikes your heart like an arrow, squeezing so tightly it almost hurts.

“No! No, no… not at all.”

Ahhhh, how could anyone regret sharing sheets with Vil?

“It’s just that… how? Why?” You don’t finish the sentence, but the questions linger: how did you manage this? Why you among so many other marvels?

Vil lifts your chin with his finger and makes you look at him, no trace of harshness in his expression, only tenderness. “Is it so hard to believe that I desired you as well?”

Direct and sincere.

Vil leans in and kisses your lips slowly and sensually, then your cheeks and your bare shoulders. He draws you closer, his hand resting on your lower back, his perfume flooding your senses once more.

Wild violets, mixed with chocolate, sweat, and sex. “I want you like this, without filters.”

Vil rises to put on his splendid silk robe, intent on bringing something fresh for you both to eat and something for your headache, leaving you alone for a moment tangled in his sheets and his bed…

Was the bed always this big?

Rook

You open your eyes slowly, breathing in the sweet scent of wildflowers and fresh grass, the room dimly lit enough that you can open your eyes a bit more without your head hurting too much.

The sheets cover you like a soft mantle, brushing against sore muscles you didn’t even know could ache. Out of the corner of your eye you notice a patch of blond hair very close.

…That same patch is staring at you.

Intently.

Rook is lying beside you, propped on his elbows, eyes shining in the faint morning light, wearing a wide smile that is as beautiful as it is slightly unsettling. One hand rests on your abdomen, his thumb tracing distracted circles over marked skin.

Naked skin, to be clear.

You look where he’s touching you, look at his bare arm, and follow upward… higher and higher…

Rook is naked too.

“Bonjour, mon trésor…” His voice this early still sounds just as melodic and bright… though a little reverent and husky.

“What a spectacle, the dawn upon your bare skin. Ah, what art we created, what music your cries composed.”

“My… my cries?”

“Oui! A splendid ballad after such a feverish hunt.”

You jolt, and the ache between your legs makes your memory return in flashes: walking through Heartslabyul’s rose maze when you felt a presence behind you, tall, dense, and very, very hungry; Rook’s breath against your neck, his hands barely brushing your throat and waist. A hunter about to chase his prey.

“Mon petite proie, let me hunt you properly” The game of hunter and mouse through the immaculate rose bushes, past mirrors and through the exquisite halls of Pomefiore, until Rook caught you, pinning you against the wall and devouring your mouth.

His lips on your neck, his hands on your hips, unbuttoning your shirt, your pants, leaving a trail of clothing on the floor until reaching his room. How those clothes reached his bedroom floor unseen by other students? You couldn’t care less, not when his fingers slipped inside your cunt to curl and strike your sensitive spot.

His tongue licking and moving in small circles over your clit, fingers curving, sliding out and back in, in a delicious rhythm. Your own hand in his golden hair, pulling him closer. “Keep going… yes, yes, like that, don’t stop” Rook moaned hearing you so needy for him.

His expert fingers never leaving your pussy, carrying you to pleasure again and again and again. Maybe he made you cum three times, or was it five? Maybe he drew micro-orgasms from you with only his fingers and tongue.

You remember being arranged on your side, one leg lifted and draped over his shoulder, him savoring the feel of your thigh, your abdomen, your belly. Rook sliding slowly, the tip of his cock opening you inch by inch, your spongy walls already soaked yet tightening deliciously around him.

“Mon trésor, you are the perfect image of desire… let me admire your beauty as I make you mine,” the beginning of a slow, unhurried rhythm, admiring how your body moved with each thrust of his hips; your hand over his where he held your leg, your breasts moving freely, your eyes meeting his as the frenzy gradually intensified.

The way Rook moaned as much as, or more than you, describing how beautiful and “alive” you looked while sinking inside you, his thumb pressing against your clit so your walls would tighten more around him.

Your back against his chest when he made you kneel before him, one hand on your hip, the other moving your hair aside to kiss your spine before penetrating you from behind again. Your ass moving with each thrust, deliciously round and perfect for his hands. “Let me hear my muse scream”

The strong orgasm around his cock, held firmly, Rook deep inside you, restraining himself from finishing at that very moment; he wanted to enjoy you more, if possible, for the rest of the night; moving again once your wave ended, harder and deeper, using your breasts as leverage.

The heat of his semen when he spilled inside you, biting your neck and shoulders. “I want to adore you more, ma chérie, until I lose myself completely in your body”

A second, third, even a fourth round, all ending the same way: with Rook deep inside you, his seed spilled within and sliding down beneath your legs to the sheets.

The lascivious memories still swirl in your mind as you glance down at your body; a map of devotion, dotted with small bruises (surely from his fingers gripping you tightly while thrusting), bite marks, and the occasional hickey.

And also a lipstick mark on your thigh and hip.

Oh. Shit.

“Rook… did we… actually fuck?”

“Oui, ma chérie.” His laugh purrs beside your ear.

You try to cover yourself with the sheets, but Rook is already kissing your neck, your shoulder, your collarbone again. Slowly he finds your fingers, intertwining them with his.

“Never have I contemplated a beauty so sublime, so wild beneath me, crying out my name with every climax”

His breath brushes your skin and you shiver, a strange mix of vertigo and desire coiling in your abdomen. Rook pulls you even closer, his thigh sliding between yours. His kisses are more reverent, almost devout.

“I wish to hunt you again, every night, mon trésor,” he promises, fierce and determined, before pressing his lips to yours.

Malleus

The air is dense, the scent of rain and something sweetly electric wrapping around you. The headache feels like a minor nuisance at the back of your skull, as if the world itself were lulling you to calm down and keep resting. Immersed in that blessing, you let yourself float, feeling the aftershocks still running through your bones, the lazy ache in your thighs.

You shift between impossibly fine sheets… very elegant to the touch… cool and soft…

Okay, you’re not in your dorm

You open one eye, then the other. Dark, baroque furniture greets you. Definitely… this is not your bed.

You look down to where you feel a heavy weight, inhumanly heavy, resting over your abdomen. Long fingers, nails slightly elongated and black, belonging to Malleus’ arm and shoulder behind you.

His hair is messy and wild over that same bare shoulder, barely pushed back to reveal the scales on his forehead. Your gaze trails lower; his chest is bare, and the sheets cover just enough over both hips. Carefully, you lift them slightly and steal a furtive glance beneath, heart racing.

Ditto, you’re naked and so is he…

You blink.

That… can’t be.

You lower the sheets for a moment, close and open your eyes a few times. You lift them again and that, or rather those, are still there.

Between Malleus’ thighs, framed by the sculpted, pale lines of his hips, rest two semi-thick, awakened cocks against his abdomen. You stare at them, unable to process.

Holy shit. He has two…

HE HAS TWO AND THEY’RE HUGE!

Is this another dragon fae trait?

A nervous little sound slips from you, barely a small whimper, honestly a bit embarrassing, and Malleus’ eyes open slightly, narrowing, a nearly mischievous smile curving his lips. “Is something the matter, my treasure?”

My treasure…

The mental fog clears and the images of last night strike you like lightning: Malleus whispering things in your ear in the middle of the crowd that had nothing to do with the party, words you didn’t even know he knew, sweet and scandalously explicit. His large, calloused hand over yours as he guided you through the halls of Diasomnia to his own room.

Both hands roaming over your body, his claws tracing lines along your hips and waist. His figure over yours made you feel so much smaller, so tiny that when he placed a leg between yours he lifted you from the floor effortlessly. His palms on your hips as he rocked you over his thigh, your covered cunt already beginning to soak.

The way he prepared you with his fingers, long and cool, sinking deep, moving in and out, curling to find your most sensitive spot and stimulate it quickly and firmly. Your legs spread, one of his hands holding one up so you couldn’t close them while he ran his tongue over your clit.

That same forked tongue sliding along your wet folds, curling as if it had a life of its own, much longer than any human’s. The combination of his wet length and fingers made you cum with his face buried between your legs, your hand gripping his hair to make him suck harder.

And still he continued; opening you more and more, one orgasm after another after another until you could no longer feel your legs.

You remember the first time you touched one of his cocks: so large, fully awake, thick and ready to enter your small cunt. You couldn’t even close your hand around it, stroking and pumping with difficulty. His groan when you tried to go faster, using both hands, the second cock free and resting against your thigh.

“So small and yet willing to take me whole, even while trembling” his words filled with adoration but tinged with filth. His large hands spreading your legs and the tip of one cock brushing your pussy.

The way he folded you in half, placing your legs over his shoulders and impaling you deep, inch by inch. You were so, so full you could barely breathe, his chest so close to yours. “I want you to see… I want you to see how deeply you take me”

His movements confident and sensual at first, slicking his cock with each thrust, your cunt spasming as you felt the ridges rubbing against your spongy walls.

The second pushing in slower, making you scream in pleasure, completely open, dripping and barely able to move or form words. “T’ much… Fuck! That’s too much, Malleus!”

“Like this, my treasure, let me fill you,” Malleus thrusting deep, both cocks striking everywhere, the exquisite pressure and stretch sending shocks through your abdomen. You could only moan and cry his name over and over.

Malleus pressing you into the mattress to take him even deeper, placing you in a mating press that made the angle deliciously intense. His tips kissing your cervix, you could swear you felt them push past when he delivered a devastating thrust that made you cum instantly.

The sensation of overwhelming heat and overflow when he spilled his seed inside you, both cocks pouring semen in uncontrolled, inhuman amounts, sliding from your pussy and pooling on the bed.

Being fucked not only in bed but lifted against the wall, your legs barely wrapped around him as he held you effortlessly, slamming you harder into the cold stone with each thrust. Your breasts pressed against his chest, hands gripping his shoulders, gaze unfocused.

“No one will fill you like I do, my treasure,” he whispered in your ear, finishing for who knows what time. “I won’t stop until you’re completely full.”

Where the hell did he learn all that?

You blame Lilia. Yes, definitely him.

Slowly, very slowly, you sit up, lascivious thoughts still circling in your mind, unable to process. You pull the sheet up to your chest.

Malleus extends a hand and strokes your back, a shiver running down your spine. “Did you sleep well?” You can only nod, your cheeks ready to ignite.

I don’t know how I’m going to sleep again after this.

“My little one, you seem somewhat… distracted. Do you feel unwell?”

Damn it, this man is going to make me explode!!

“Malleus… you…” how do you even say this? “You… you have… two.” You even lift two fingers for emphasis...

THIS MAN HAS TWO HUGE COCKS THAT REARRANGED YOUR INSIDES.

“Ah, so that is what occupies your mind.” He strokes your cheek with his thumb. He shifts, letting the sheet fall from his hips, fully revealing his magnificence; impossible not to look.

“I hope I did not cause you harm, though I could feel you enjoyed it all night. And again, just before dawn.”

He leans down and brushes your mouth, soft at first, then deeper, more demanding; his tongue teasing, tasting, swallowing a moan before it escapes.

“Are you in need of anything? Water, a bath, tea to ease your soreness?”

You cling to him, still clutching the sheet to your chest, the scent of his body intoxicatingly close. “I need… a minute… maybe two.”

He releases a playful chuckle. “Take all the time you need, my treasure. I am very patient. And very, very eager.”

He wraps you in his arms, pulling you against his chest; for now you simply breathe, letting him hold you… until you feel his lengths pressing against your stomach.

Lilia

The hammering of your heart against your chest is what wakes you. Your body aches with a dull sensation in every muscle, your head feels ready to explode, and there’s a vague sense of having survived a natural disaster… or perhaps having caused one. Your skin tingles, sensitive and overstimulated, as if you’d been struck by lightning and put back together...more than once.

The sheets smell of night-blooming flowers and something sweet and smoky that makes you dizzy, too luxurious and heavy yet somehow light at the same time. You try to move, but a warm, inhumanly strong weight holds you with predatory ease.

Something brushes your leg—skin, warm and sensitive.

A foot? A leg?

You feel a hand, nails, grazing your inner thigh; it tickles until you sense where it’s headed, up, up and up, almost reaching your pulsing, expectant center.

Your eyes snap open, the world still blurry, the faint light slipping through the curtains making you squeeze them shut again as you inhale sharply against the pain.

“Oh, you’re awake already~ Good morning, darling.”

When you open them again, Lilia’s crimson eyes gleam in the dimness, a wide and dangerously playful smile on his face.

You jolt upright halfway...on a bed that isn’t yours, in a room that isn’t yours, and in nonexistent clothing.

Wrong pillow, wrong bed, dark decor, naked…

NAKED!

You look down, your body scandalously covered in marks: hickeys, finger bruises, scratches…

Is that a bite on your thigh?

Another one almost beside your pussy?

Lilia shifts, just as naked as you, resting on his side with his chin in his hand, eyes sparkling with amusement; as if the night hadn’t left him tired or hungover in the way mortals usually are.

He looks… energized.

“What… did we do last night?” your voice comes out hoarse, mouth stiff.

“I think the correct question is what didn’t we do last night, little one.”

…what?

“You don’t remember?” His hand is only an inch away from your wet folds and his body barely brushing yours.

Memories arrive in bursts: Lilia hovering over you, playing with your hair before descending to grab your hand and pull you away from the party, his laughter making your whole body vibrate. The heat of his mouth on your neck, his fangs grazing your pulse and a small bite on your collarbone.

His hands everywhere: soft and careful yet wild and playful, always one step ahead, drawing small moans and sighs from you each time his fingertips traced your bare skin.

The vertigo of being lifted as if you weighed nothing and tossed onto the bed. His laugh at your little yelp when you were airborne for a second before he captured your lips again in a passionate, hard, deep kiss; his tongue playing with yours while his hands roamed your sides.

The glint in his eyes when he pinned your wrists above your head with one hand while the other stimulated your clit, slow circular motions as he watched your face reflect pleasure and hunger for more. His laugh against your neck when he slid a finger between your wet pussy. “You’re so soaked and I barely touched you.”

A muffled gasp when he pushed in a second finger, then a third, his thumb following to claim your clit, sometimes pressing, other times moving fast and cruel or slow and careless. Your legs trembling, wanting to cum, but Lilia not letting you until your fluids stained the sheet and left your thighs slick and sticky.

His cock, hard from watching you writhe and hearing your sweet moans, sliding between your breasts, his hands squeezing them firmly so he could glide and feel their softness envelop him; the tip brushing your lips. “Come on, little one, open for me.” Lilia gripping your head to tilt you forward so your lips barely kissed and sucked him.

You remember the heat of his semen when it shot onto your face, other streams into your open mouth, landing on your tongue; droplets splattered over your breasts, Lilia spreading them with his hands, coating your skin before pushing his fingers back into your already oversensitive cunt.

You remember how he gripped both your thighs, placing them over his hips to thrust into you again and again and again, his cock reaching deeper than you thought possible, your spongy walls tightening around him. His hand between your legs to keep stimulating you until you cum around him.

The force with which he flipped you over, belly down, lifting your ass and penetrating you again, your face pressed into the pillow; Lilia going so deep and fast it felt like he was stealing the air from your lungs.

The moment he spilled inside you, but it wasn’t enough. Lilia kept fucking you, your walls making obscene sounds, both your fluids running down your open legs. He didn’t take you once or twice or three times—he took you on every surface that could hold you: the bed, the desk, against the window, on the floor.

“So small… and yet you take me so well. Want more, sweetness? Want me to fill you so completely you’ll feel me for days?” His words grew dirtier with each new round. Your cunt no longer just wet and oversensitive but red and raw from overuse, every touch making you scream, tears in your eyes as you experienced what must have been the tenth orgasm of the night.

The end: your body exhausted, trembling, covered in marks, tongue sore, legs spread and your pussy burning from delicious abuse. Lilia licking your tears and sweat with fierce tenderness. “You’d better rest, little one, because you’ve become my favorite dessert… and I very much intend to have seconds.”

Holy hell

It’s like you ascended and saw God in person.

You pull the sheets to your chin, completely red from head to toe. Lilia’s smile widens, fangs fully on display. “Embarrassed now, my little one? After everything last night… how adorable~”

This old man really knows how to move.

“You were insatiable. It’s been a long time since I’ve had that much fun.” He moves closer, his fingers playing with your wet lips.

“Did you… actually… fuck me like that?”

A sincere laugh escapes him and he kisses your cheek, then the corner of your mouth; when his fangs brush your neck again, an electric tremor runs down your spine.

What better moment to slide his fingers back inside you, hm?

“Don’t pout, darling, I’m not done savoring you yet~”

It goes without saying that, for Lilia, the morning sun simply means round… two?

Your back is pressed against a cool, slightly wet, smoothed out rock— body splayed out against the surface while your lower half is forced hovering over the dark blue, salty and sticky, ocean water by a blushing, octopus merman’s tentacles. Your tender skin is warm to the touch, slick and glistening from sweat, sensitive from the overwhelming pleasure. There’s a small puncture on your neck that appeared when Azul bite into the flesh to mark you only to end up accident injecting venom that made you completely paralyzed at the mercy of a needy cecaelia— the lustful, intense, and vulnerable feeling was an after effect of the venom.  

Thick, large, eager, and restless tentacles of Azul wrap around your plush body in a firm grip; thighs, legs, and ankles are wrapped by the slimy appendage as the suckers taste the sweet flavor of your skin. The small, scattered spots on the tentacles change in an unpredictable manner, their color alters between soft lilac, baby blue, and dark purple. The biology of the cecaelia would be quite hypnotizing if you were able to focus on anything.

“Haah—! Fuckk. . A-azul!” You whine out his name in a breathless, broken, loud, and exhausted voice.

You gasp out weakly, squirming lightly from the overwhelming stimulation. . in response, the tentacles around your lower half tightens to keep you from writhing as they kneed and squish at your body. Azul cries out your name when your gooey walls spasming around his thick length, his cheek dusted in a mixture of light lilac and blue. Those greedy hands of his dig into the soft flesh of your hips, thumb pressing into the tender skin of your belly. 

Azul grips onto you tightly as his hip snaps into yours, causing his deliciously thick and long hectocotylus to plunge deep into your drooling hole. With each relentless and rough thrust he does, his length stretches your walls wiide open; it has your eyes rolling back and lips parting to moan out his name in ecstasy. Your boyfriend gazes deeply at you, eyes dilated in pure bliss as he drinks up your fucked-out expressions; eyes rolled back, brows furrowed, cheeks flushed, drool seeping from parted lips, and the slight change in your eyes.

You look beautiful like this. . Your body jolts and shivers in pleasure, gooey walls quivering around his length— helplessly creaming around his hectocotylus until you feel like you’re drowning from overstimulation.

“Ohmygod. .! A- azul —mmhp. . b- babe!” You babble out loudly, sweat covered thighs trembling in his tentacles when azul presses perfectly against your g-spot.

“Haah. . m-my sweet pearl —nghh! D- don’t squeeze me s- so tightly!” Azul whimpers out, tears dripping from his glossy eyes as he babbles out his confession of love to you. . in a very shameless manner.

Another one of his tentacles lifts from the salty water, suctions hovering over the twitching and engorged bundle of nerves above your filled hole.

“Haah—! W- wait. . azul! Ca- can’t take it —nngh! Too biggg” you squeal out loudly, hands attempting to find purchase on his tentacles.

In response, Azul’s tentacles dart to wrap around your wrist.

“Mmhp! N- no, don’t squirm from me, my s- sweet pearl” he cries out, moaning softly at the delicious flavor of your skin melting onto his tongue.

The suction on your clit has you wailing louder than ever,  the poor bud sensitive from how the needy octopus was dragging his thick tongue against the hood— lips wrapping around it to suckle gently until you were gasping out his name. Azul was insatiable, slurping and lapping at your syrupy pussy as if it would save him from his rut. . drunk off the flavor of your addictive flavor. 

“M- my pearl. . pleasepleasepleaseplease” Azul chants out, tentacles wrapping tighter around you as his hectocotylus presses into your gummy walls. . twitching  and throbbing as it leaks inhuman amounts of precum inside your already white- covered walls.

“—please. . lo-love all of me, I beg of you” he whines in a desperate tone, angling his hips to pound into your g-spot until you're losing your breath. 

His cum makes everything sound even more nasty, the wet sloshes and squelches of your pussy as Azul easily slides back into your pussy from the wetness. But it’s too much. . a copious amount of his thick cum dribbles around the base of his hectocotylus, creamy white sliding down the curve of your ass. You’ve both created such a mess, a mixture of mostly his and your cum coating the surface below your body.

“Oohfuck! ‘M c- cumming again! Nnghh!” You wail out, eyes rolling back, back arching as you squirt around his thick length.

You want to squirm so badly, but you can’t, Azul’s venom runs through your blood. . keeping you pliant. He moans out your name, burying himself to the hilt of your velvety walls there’s a pleasurable tingle in your lower half. The grip on your hip tightens as thick ropes of cum shoots into your creamy walls, your stomach looks bloated, the excess cum spilling from your poor, abused hole.

The cecaelia leans in close, effectively trapping you against the ground as he kisses and laps at your marked up neck, hectocotylus still throbbing in your slick walls with need even though you’ve been fucking alll night. 

“Wahh. . haah, on- one more time, my beloved pearl” Azul pants out, slowly pulling his length until he watches his cum bead from your hole, only to push himself to the hilt of your cunt with a wet plapp. 

Azul drives himself slowly into your pussy, hectocotylus dragging against your walls. You murmur out his name, melting from the pleasure as he uses your body. If anyone was to visit the beach at this late hour, they would only hear the wet squelchh and sloshing sound, loud, high pitched moans and whimpers of someone’s name.

₊˚.༄ JADE LEECH

Moray eels actually don’t have an established mating season like octopuses— instead, when the temperature above Coral Sea turns blazing warm, Jade becomes clingy and attached to you

Like moray eels; Jade ensures that he feeds his dear mate more than enough food, preferring to initiate a sweet, dizzying dance with you

Your back arches from the smooth, completely soaked, mossy surface of the grotto—trembling against the ground as your lower half is submerged in the salty ocean water, plush thighs parted wiide open to accommodate the large, transformed eel that’s between it. Your tingles from the sweet abuse of overwhelming pleasure; plush body  covered in deep, bloody bite marks, covered in bruises from the eager and greedy hands of Jade, a mixture of sweat and dried cum coating your tender flesh. You feel as if you tried to fight a deep sea creature, only to lose miserably.

Jade has himself wrapped snuggly around your warm and soft skin, webbed fingers pressed between your connected bodies to roughly rub at the bundle of twitching nerves above your stuffed hole. His fingers are precious and nimble, rolling your puffy clit with the perfect amount of pressure to have you quivering around his length. His lips are pressed against the skin of your neck, hungrily slurping, lapping, and sucking at your tender flesh.

“Haaah—! Nghh! Too muchh, Jade!” You gasp out loudly between broken and breathless moans, gasps, and whimpers of the eel’s name.

His sharp nails dig into your plump hips, eliciting a hiss of pain when blood prickles from the puncture. Jade snaps his hips into yours, driving his thick, long, and deliciously big cock deeper into your gooey walls. With each mean and rough thrust of his hips into yours, an obscure, wet squealchh of your sopping pussy fills the grotto.

Jade sadistically grinds at the helpless expression on your face, thick cock bobbing in your velvety walls— his lips find yours in a passionate and needy manner, long tongue dragging against yours in an eager manner. He ruts deeper into your creaming cunt, faster and deeper— his nimble fingers rubbing slowly, firm circles over your swollen clit until it has your thighs trembling from the overwhelming stimulation. Underneath your body, a pool of cum that’s a mixture of yours and mostly his gets larger and larger from how globs of cum drips from the curve of your ass to the surface below.

In a honeyed voice, he groans out your name when your velvety walls quivering around his thick length, squeezing him so tightly it has his breath hitching. Through hooded and clouded eyes, Jade peers out a blissed out face, grinning when he sees the helpless expression on your face; fat tears dripping from your glossy eyes, swollen lips parted as sweet moans of pleasure leave them, and the delicious peak of your marked up neck from his sharp teeth. . god he could get addictive to the sight of you all pliable for only him. His thick cum, stuffed deep in your pussy, allows him to slip into your cunt with each thrust, a wet slosh echoing throughout the grotto.

“Oh, my sweet pearl” Jade purrs out in that honeyed tongue, his larger form cages you against the mossy ground as the inhuman cock bullies its way in and out of your dripping pussy with a wet sloshh.

“Q- quite the mess you’ve made —mmhp. .” He mutters between velvety groans, webbed hands pressing harder into your clit it has you choking on a moan.  

“Try not to waste my seed, my d- dear. . -haaah” Jade groans out, every thrust had his hips slamming into yours until your thighs ached from being forced apart. 

Jade presses himself harder onto you, burying his face deeper into the space between your shoulder and neck— warm breath fanning on your exposed. You let out a high pitch whine when his sharp teeth digs into the flesh of your neck, blood oozing from the puncture on the neck. He’s quick to drag that slimy, thick, and long tongue against the tender flesh of your neck— lewdly slurping at your skin as your blood coats his lips and neck. 

“Nngh—! F- feels too good! Mmhp. . J- jade!” You gasp out between moans, wailing loudly when his free hands digs into the soft flesh of your thighs.

That heat in your lower belly snaps unexpectedly, white hot heat as you lewdly squirt from the pleasure for the nth time tonight— juices spraying onto his lower stomach. Jade groans out your name from how your gooey walls spasm and tighten around him, hips flushed with yours as his cock bobs and throbs violently. He keeps himself buried deep as thick ropes of cum coats your already whites-covered walls, fat globs of white cum drools from your messy pussy. . dripping onto your ass. 

Jade slowly pulls out, tons of strings of arousal forms between your bodies, slamming his hips back into yours with a wet plap— pushing his cum back into your velvety walls. 

“My sweet pearl —haah. . do not waste my hard work. . ngh” he says simply, setting a pace; slowly pulling out a seeing the way your hole quivers around his inhuman cock before plunging himself back into you, roughly. 

Perhaps if you ignored your boyfriend’s honeyed voice cooing out to you. . begging you to help him with his upcoming rut, you might not have been pliable and overstimulated. After all, moray eels don’t have a scheduled mating season.

₊˚.༄ FLOYD LEECH    

similar to his brother, Floyd courts you in the traditional style a moray eel would; giving you a filling and delicious meal, dancing with you until you feel dizzy, soaking you in all his attention and affection

However, his favorite way to court his shrimpy is by opening his mouth and closing it repeatedly towards you 

Floyd is cruel when it comes to mating, soo eager to finally claim you that it comes out rough and borderline manhandling in his own passionate way

Compared to his brother, he prefers to mark every single inch of your body with his teeth, tongue, nails, and hands— he really gets addicted to how soft and supple your body is compared to all those other guppys in the Coral Sea!

The dark ocean’s cool, salt-laden water clings onto your exposed, flushed, and sensitive flesh— with each gentle wave of water that crashes onto your body has your skin tingling. Your breath is ragged and heavy from exhaustion, desperately trying to catch your breath as your head barely remains above the pitch black surface of the ocean. It’s hard to breathe when your son cries of pleasure interrupts you everytime; loud moans, shrill gasps, honeyed whimpers of Floyd, breathless mewls. 

It’s even harder when a certain moray eel merman seemingly can’t survive a mere second without his lips pressed firmly against yours; the intense flavor of metallic from your blood and salt from the ocean water lingers on Floyd’s lips. . coaxing you to eagerly reciprocate the way his snake-like tongue darting to flick against yours. What was originally supposed to be an exciting beach date with your dear boyfriend led to the cyan colored hair boy becoming more touchy, sweetly aggressive, overwhelming for your full attention. He opens his mouth as wide as he could in a barely concealed excited manner, gifting you the sight of the two rows of pointy teeth.

It was a repeating cycle; he’d unlatch his jaw wiiide, stare at you, close his mouth and pouts when you give him a confused look. . perhaps this was a moray eel trait that someone failed to inform you about. It was until you finally parted your lips to show Floyd your mouth that he instantly brightens up as he coos out your name in a honeyed voice, cackling at that dumbfounded expression on your pretty face. He quickly transform into his natural form, swimming further and further away from the sandy surface— peering at you with an expectant glint in his eyes. 

Within the few seconds of you being in the deep part of the ocean with Floyd, he’s already hungrily pawing and tugging at your swimsuit— the loud rippp of the fabric being torn from greedy hands. His eyes are dilated and clouded with unhidden intense desire— slowly swimming around like a predator stalking its prey. At first, your slick back was pressed against a rough rock that hadn’t appeared above the ocean’s surface— plush thighs parted wiide to allow the needy merman settle between them. . causing a pleasurable ache in your legs.

Those webbed hands of his digs into the soft chub of your thighs, sharp nails poking into your flesh until small dots of scarlet pools from your skin. . eliciting a honeyed gasp from your swollen lips. Floyd’s tongue— long, thick, and sloppy from eagerness drags against your cunt. . parting your syrupy folds. That eager tongue of his presses into your drooling hole, the wet muscle having a kind of its own as it drags against your pussy until you’re dripping a mixture of salvia and arousal. 

Floyd would moan shamelessly into your core, giggling when you tremble from the stimulation of his lips engulfing your buzzing clit— suckling hard until you just squeal out his and loudly. You’ve never seen the eel so excited like this before; he’s determined to drag out every little reaction from you, from the twitch of your hips to the gasp ripped from your lips. He whines into your honeyed folds, addicted, hungry for more of your sweet taste. . tongue flicking, licking, smearing, and dragging along your heat to coax your body to produce more and more of your sweet juices. 

“Mmhp! Shrimpy taste soo sweet!” Floyd giggles out against your puffy clit, grinning ear to ear with his lips and chin glistening from your sticky arousal.

And now, he has his flexible body wrapped firmly around your body— squeezing you tightly as he presses his throbbing cock agaisnt your puffy folds. Floyd ruts his hips back and forth in a dizzying manner, cock dragging and bumping into your poor clit. He’s already reduced you into a shivering, sobbing, and overstimulation mess.

“Ngh! F- Floyd! Haah—! feels goodd. .” You drool out, eyes squinted and clouded in a haze of ecstasy. 

Floyd giggles, smushing his lips against your swollen ones, sharp teeth nipping at the puffy flesh as his tongue darts to drag against yours in a passionate manner. He moans into your lips as his length stretches your drooling hole, the wet squeak muffled by the salty water around yours both. 

“O- oh fuck! To-too muchh!” You gasp out between loud moans, tongue darting to lick at your blooded lips. 

At the feeling of him pressing even deeper into your spasming and creamy hole has you shoveling and squirming from the pleasure.

“Shrimpy is so, so, sooo squirmy!” He giggles, tongue darting to kick a broad strip along your marked up neck. 

In your velvety walls, Floyd’s thick cock throbs and spurts out thick beads of precum into your already white- covered walls— the excess pouring from your stuffed hole and mixing in the sea water. The sweet burn of pleasure felt addictive and amazing, the way his inhuman cock drags and massaged along your gooey walls— the drag of his length in your cunt is heavy, the bulbous tip pounding into your poor g-spot with such force. . it feels amazingly perfect. His cool skin is pressed firmly against yours, sharp scales on his tail digs into your lower half— each rough snap of his hips has water spraying everywhere.

“Ya’ feel g- good? Huh? Huh, sh- shrimpy?” Floyd stutters out, those nails of his digging greedily into your hips before gently scratching find your back until you squeal from the mixture of pain and pleasure.

Weakly, you try to find purchase on his shoulders only for the natural slime substance on his skin to make it hard. . you’re completely dependable on Floyd. With a loud sob of his name, you tremble in his hold as you gush around his shaft for the nth time tonight— creamy walls spasming and quivering around his thick length. 

”haah! Nngh! O- oh fuckk!” You drool out, eyes rolling back. 

Floyd moans out, pressing his lips onto you again, ignoring his you moan out from exhaustion, tongue dragging against the torn flesh of your lips. . happily shoving his tongue to smear against yours— thick and endless ropes of cum shoots into your overstuffed pussy.

˖°༄All work belongs to only me, @/yuuna-iridescent-scales!! Translating, plagiarism, copying, posting on another website, claiming as your work will not be tolerated, instant block  .｡꒰☆꒱ ⋆

੭      ֹ   AUTHOR NOTE    🥥

Hiya hiya, cuties! Sorry for such a late post, I’m on vacation and had such limited wifi I wasn’t able to post ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ alsooo, 240+ followers?? Tysm (˃̵ᴗ˂̵)!!

Also, I wanted to say; please read my rules before requesting and I only use you/your pronouns for reader POV  but have afab anatomy! ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ btw, shout out to the random person who gave me enough luck to get a Deuce card(*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)