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pandapetals · 4 months ago

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Mr. Darcy

logan howlett x fem!reader - halloween costumes, logan dresses up as Mr. Darcy, pride and prejudice fans rise up, fluff, cute, no use of y/n, no reader description.

It's Halloween and you make Logan dress up as Mr. Darcy.

a/n: It's October which basically means Happy Halloween. Here's a cute little Halloween one. God knows I love brooding men—and Mr.Darcy was the first one I can remember loving so why not combine logan and mr.darcy together.

read on Ao3

“You look—”

“Ridiculous,” Logan grunted before you could even finish. He stood there in the doorway, wearing the Regency-era costume you had begged him to wear for the Halloween party tonight—complete with the cravat, waistcoat, and fitted jacket that made him look every bit the brooding Mr. Darcy. His expression was a mixture of annoyance and resignation like he couldn’t believe he’d actually let you talk him into this.

If you were being honest, he didn’t look ridiculous. Not even close.

You bit back a smile as you took him in, the way the tailored jacket hugged his broad shoulders and how the crisp, white shirt contrasted with the usual ruggedness of his face. Somehow, Logan still managed to look like Logan —even when dressed up as Jane Austen’s most famous romantic hero.

“I was going to say handsome ,” you corrected, stepping closer to him with a teasing grin. “But if you prefer ridiculous…”

Logan huffed, adjusting the cravat at his throat like it was strangling him. “I don’t know how the hell you talked me into this,” he muttered, glancing at himself in the mirror, a deep scowl settling over his features. “I look like a damn fool.”

“You look perfect ,” you insisted, smoothing down the lapels of his jacket before placing your hands on his chest. “Like a brooding, 19th-century aristocrat. Which, let’s be honest, isn’t that far off from how you act sometimes.”

Logan narrowed his eyes at you, his gruff exterior barely masking the hint of amusement in his expression. “Very funny.”

You just grinned, standing on your tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “Come on, Darcy. The party won’t be the same without you.”

Logan sighed, shaking his head but letting you lead him out of the room, your hand slipping into his as you made your way to the common area where the rest of the X-Men were already gathering for the Halloween party. The mansion was filled with the sounds of music, laughter, and general chaos that came with any event involving the team.

As you and Logan entered the room, it didn’t take long for people to notice.

Scott was the first to pipe up, nearly spitting out his drink when he saw Logan. “Holy crap, Logan, is that really you? I’ve never seen you look so… normal. ”

Jean chuckled beside him, nudging him with her elbow. “More like out of a BBC period drama. You’re practically unrecognizable.”

Logan’s scowl deepened as he shot Scott a glare. “You got somethin’ to say, Summers?”

“Oh, I think we all do,” Scott quipped, grinning as the rest of the team gathered around, taking in the rare sight of Logan dressed in something other than his usual leather jacket and flannel. “Seriously, who are you and what did you do with Wolverine?”

Even Storm, who was usually the voice of reason, couldn’t hide her amusement as she crossed her arms, giving Logan a once-over. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to look… refined.”

Logan grunted, clearly uncomfortable with the attention, but you couldn’t help but find the whole thing endearing. “Alright, alright, laugh it up,” he muttered, crossing his arms over his chest, which only made the fitted jacket strain against his broad frame. “Just remember—I’m still me underneath all this.”

That earned a round of laughs from the group, but you could see Logan trying his best to ignore the teasing. He was doing this for you, after all, and no amount of ribbing from the team was going to change that.

“I think you look amazing ,” you whispered, leaning into his side and giving him a reassuring smile. “You’re the best Mr. Darcy I’ve ever seen.”

Logan rolled his eyes, but there was a softness in his gaze when he looked down at you. “Yeah, well, I still don’t get why you’d want me dressed up as some stuck-up Brit,” he muttered, though his tone lacked its usual bite.

“Because you are Mr. Darcy,” you replied with a grin. “Gruff, brooding, a little rough around the edges—but with a heart of gold.”

Logan huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “I don’t know about the ‘heart of gold’ part.” You chuckled as he shook his head, clearly done with the entire situation. “You’re all gonna pay for this,” he muttered, his gruff tone tempered with the faintest hint of amusement as he pulled you closer to his side.

The party carried on, with the team eventually moving on to other conversations and teasing each other about their own costumes, but you couldn’t help but notice that Logan seemed quieter than usual. Not uncomfortable, exactly, but maybe a little... out of place.

Later that night, after most of the others had wandered off to different parts of the mansion, you and Logan found a quiet corner away from the noise, the dim lighting casting soft shadows across his face. He leaned against the wall, one hand resting casually in his pocket, the other holding a drink, still looking slightly out of his element in the period costume.

“You know,” you said, sidling up to him with a teasing smile, “for someone who’s not a fan of costumes, you’ve pulled off Mr. Darcy pretty well.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a smirk. “Yeah? Glad one of us thinks so.”

You laughed softly, brushing your fingers over the lapel of his jacket. “You could’ve fooled me. You look like you stepped right out of Pride and Prejudice. All that’s missing is the declaration of undying love.”

Logan shot you a sideways glance, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, to your surprise, he set his drink down and straightened up, clearing his throat awkwardly. “Undying love, huh?”

You raised an eyebrow, suddenly curious about where this was going. “Yep. The whole ‘I admire and love you’ speech. It’s basically iconic.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed slightly, and for a moment, you thought he was about to make a sarcastic comment. But then, he took a step closer, his gaze locking onto yours with that intense, unreadable expression that always made your heart skip a beat.

“You must allow me,” Logan began, his voice low and gravelly, but there was something softer beneath the gruffness, something just for you, “to tell you how ardently I admire... and love you.”

Your breath caught in your throat as he said the words, his rough voice making the familiar line sound raw, real, Logan. It wasn’t perfect—it wasn’t polished or smooth like the Mr. Darcy of the novels—but that didn’t matter. It was him.

You stared at him, wide-eyed, a smile tugging at your lips. “Logan, did you just quote Mr. Darcy?”

He grunted, shifting his weight a little awkwardly. “I don’t know if I got it right. It’s what you wanted, though, wasn’t it?”

Your heart swelled, and without thinking, you closed the distance between you, cupping his face in your hands and kissing him, slow and soft, like it was the only way to say everything you felt.

When you finally pulled back, Logan’s eyes had softened, a quiet smile playing on his lips. “I’d do just about anything for you, even if it means wearing this ridiculous get-up.”

You smiled, resting your forehead against his. “Well, Mr. Darcy, I think you just made my night.”

Logan chuckled, pulling you into his arms, his lips brushing lightly against your temple. “Good. 'Cause I’m not wearin’ this again.”

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bindeds · 1 year ago

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[ BITE ME. ] : 1k words » LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR X FEM READER. — lucifer sees you reading dracula by bram stoker and apparently he thinks it’s one of the best things that came out of giving humans free will. so he indulges in it.

#tags. biting (obviously), vampire teeth, replication of the seductive nature of vampires, suggestive, blood sucking, blood, explicit consent

a/n. thank you so much for 100 followers! i was supposed to disclose what i wanted to do for 100 followers but i promise i pack a lot of punches! stay tuned for that post bc i will be doing a LOT of things for you personally!

mlist. request something! :>

You were completely and utterly trapped in the jaws that belonged to Lucifer Morningstar as he lifted your chin. His eyes dropped to half-mast as your neck had been exposed to him, the clean skin glowed under the odd lighting of the hotel.

“What’s that you’re reading, honey?”

It’s an amazing thing, whatever it is he’s doing to you right now. Forget the heat rising to your cheeks. Forget that you’d complied to the fact that your neck is very vulnerable in the current state he held you in; your delightful book had still been sitting open and comfortable in your lap with your hand still holding onto either side so as not to lose where you left off. And Lucifer …

Well, he kneeled before you on the bed you shared with him, but he most certainly kept that small distance from your book instead of putting it away.

He leaned back a little, and you get a good view of his striped waistcoat and the way it curved around his … well endowed chest.

He grinned. “Dracula. I like that about you.”

“Dracula?” You couldn’t help but let out a breathy chuckle. “You like Dracula about me?”

“Oh but you must know that’s no laughing matter. Dracula … is one of the best things humans have ever done with their free will. Don’t even talk to me about vampires …”

Your breath hitched. His thumb froze where it hovered over your bottom lip.

“Vampires …” he repeated in a mutter, as if to think aloud.

You scrambled to hold up the book where you could see it, seeing as Lucifer still had your jaw held high and to the side. But the way you could barely keep the book from spilling from your hands had been more than enough to give you away. Fuck, in this pathetic state, you should have been the one kneeling.

Lucifer hovered just below your jaw. His lips parted, and you shut your eyes to embrace the sensory input of his touch completely; his breath fanned and spread across your skin like casting a thick fog over an abandoned island.

“Do you want to be bitten, my love?” His lips gave the faintest flicks against your skin as he spoke. “To be tasted?”

“Maybe,” you said, and it was nearly a sigh when the way he held you was a vice. Your blood vessels ached to be invaded, to be cut off course.

“Hmmm?” He dragged out the syllable like the tease he was. Then two ends like daggers poked you, threatening to tear through your surface.

They relented soon enough, gliding down instead of sinking into your skin. Your muscles blew ice cold at the lack of a threat.

“What about now?” Your name reverberated deep in his throat, the sound caressed your ear like the sweet thing you were in Lucifer’s hands.

You knew for a fact that this couldn’t have been real. Either that, or Lucifer had reformed his teeth just for this moment, in which case, the more you thought about it the more it didn’t seem all that surprising, the way he would do anything to get you flustered.

He pressed damp kisses along your jaw and down your neck.

“I could do this aaall day, my doll,” Lucifer hummed lightly. He finally let your chin fall to its natural position, only for your eyes to fall on him. His face.

His teeth.

Sure enough, they had turned a completely straight row from cheek to cheek except for the two pointed canines—they were the only teeth that shone in the light.

“Luci …” you sighed, releasing a breath like it was a prayer.

And Lucifer was listening.

He drew closer to you, his lips inches from your own.

“Your fantasies are mine to fulfill,” Lucifer soothed, his hypnotic voice slithering to your head and plucking every coherent thought you had left. “Anything is yours for the asking, you just name it.”

“Please, bite me,” you found yourself pleading softly. You bit your lip, averting your gaze. That was sudden, even for you; your tongue flicked faster than your brain could react. “I—I need you to bite me.”

“Good girl,” Lucifer beamed as his grin returned to him, and he wasted no time as he ducked down to your neck and planted chaste kisses in a concentrated spot where your jugular sat with anticipation.

You tilted your head to the side to allow him better access, and his hand instinctively supported the side you tilted on. You allowed yourself to rest in the warmth as your shoulders eased up.

“This is going to hurt, but only for a split second,” Lucifer warned in a deep voice. “Then, I will give you nothing but pleasure.”

You gritted your teeth as lightning struck your neck and your hand tightened on his wrist. He stroked his thumb up and down your cheek, and it did well in easing the pain before the dam of rigid pain gave in and pleasure took its place—took all the places.

His tongue lapped at the wound, teeth still anchored in your neck as you felt a bit of yourself, your cells, blood, muscle strength seep out of you steadily. Your head began to spin, but your limbs fell weak at the sensation that had you on the precipice of something you couldn’t name.

Then, his teeth slipped out of your flesh as his tongue took care of the rest—the forked edges covering more ground as if to seal the wound.

“How was that?” Lucifer pulled back immediately, a bright smile incorporated his face as thin trails of blood dripped down to his chin.

Your head had still been knocking against the edges of your skull, but you managed a smile and maybe a bit of a lightheaded chuckle nonetheless. When you readjusted your legs on the bed, trouble swiped cold between your thighs. Oh, well. What were you expecting?

“Kiss me,” you said.

“Sorry?” He asked. “Honey, there’s still blood on my HMMPH—”

You engulfed him in a kiss as you pulled him by the neck and fell back against the bed. He tried to stabilize himself but it didn’t even take another minute more before both of your clothes were as good as trash on the floor.

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lizzytheglizzydogtheglock9000 · 1 year ago

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Hi hi!! I love your writing so much!! I saw you had a prompt list and was wondering if you could do number 11 with the Tenth Doctor 👉👈 I feel like that’s something he would say. Thanks I’m advance! 🫶

Guys I am indeed actually alive, it's just been a hot minute since I've felt any motivation to really come back and write things. But I am back, and I have no idea if I'll be consistent with this or not, it just sparked my interest again. I really appreciate all the consistent support from you guys!! <3333

Tenth Doctor x FemReader

"Yes I have feelings for you, moving on."

"Y/N?! Can I come in???"

You heard a flurry of knocks at your bedroom door as an excited Doctor rushed in before waiting for an answer.

"Why yes Doctor you may enter my room," you laughed. "What if I was changing or something in here?"

"Well I uh.. It hasn't happened yet!" he fought back.

You giggled and rolled your eyes at how flustered he got, something that you noticed happening often. Although you just chalked it up to that being a part of his personality, especially when he has so many lovely women flirting with him on your trips together.

He flopped onto your bed and stared at you.

"So! What are we doing today hm? Go see the stars of Ntiri, or perhaps an alien market, or we could go back to the time of the Renaissance!" he ended with a flair.

"A ball sounds nice, like in France. Marie Antoinette times! But preferably without the Reign of Terror, running isn't exactly on my wishlist for things today," you pondered aloud.

He jumped up and twirled you around, making you go all the way up on your tippy toes.

"Well alrighty then Ms. Y/N! The Yew Ball awaits!"

You rush out to see him start slamming levers and pulling bits and bobs as your center of balance is thrown away like it wasn't even there in the first place. It always amazed you how the Doctor managed to stay up the way he did. He was by no means the most graceful man you had ever met, but the TARDIS didn't seem to throw him around the same way it did you.

As he pulled you up and brushed some stray hairs out of your eyes, a thought hit you.

"Doctor?"

"Yes love?" he replied.

"Where are we supposed to get the right attire for this? My blouse and blue jeans won't exactly fit in a 16th century setting."

"Ah, don't worry about that, I'll get it all sorted out for us," he grinned.

The two of you walked out of the TARDIS, finding yourselves in a storage closet of sorts. You walked out and around the corner, up so many stairs you thought you might pass out, and then finally a couple more turns before stopping at a large white door with gold details.

The Doctor rapped on the door gently before a small brown haired woman appeared in a plain corset and dress.

He whipped out his psychic paper and the woman's face lit up.

"Oh! Madame you must hurry the ball starts soon!!!" she chimed.

She yanked you into the room as you gave the Doctor a very confused look while he just simply grinned back at you.

You then spent the next few hours getting your makeup done and having a multitude of dresses shown for you to choose from. It took at least one of those hours to convince the women helping you to not make you wear a wig, even if it is a sign of wealth, you just can't stand the itchiness.

Eventually, you made your way to the main ball room, stopping at the top of the stairs. The Doctor stood with his hands in his pockets admiring the view around him opposite you.

As his gaze met yours his eyes lit up and a wide smile crossed his face. He was in a royal, no, TARDIS blue coat and pants, with a golden waistcoat, and creme colored tights that he looked very upset to be wearing.

The two of you met at the top of the largest staircase, where the other two converged.

"You look absolutely stunning Y/N," he whispered.

You were given a ball gown in the exact same shade of gold as the Doctor's waistcoat, with your corset and center piece of material a light shade of cornflower blue, complementing your complexion perfectly.

"You look rather dashing yourself Doctor," you cooed.

He bowed to you deeply, arose, then held out a delicate hand to lead you down the stairs.

You proceeded to wander around the room, talking to many couples, eventually getting to meet Marie Antoinette herself. She found you most exciting, and thought you were the most intelligent person in the room.

The night began to slow, and the Doctor was leading you in your final waltz for the night.

"Doctor, I wouldn't have traded this night for anything," you said softly. "Although we must go into the past more often, we don't go nearly enough."

"I agree, the nights are always wonderful with the one you love most..." he stated holding onto your hand even tighter.

"Wait.. Doctor say that again?"

You couldn't believe what he had just said, did he really just say that he loved you the most??

"Yes, I have feelings for you, moving on," he brushed off.

"Wait a minute you can't just move on from this Doctor! You really love me?"

"My dear Y/N, why in the multitude of universes, wouldn't I love you? You are the sweetest person I've ever met, you're strong, capable, and gorgeous to the moons and back."

You blushed and smiled fondly.

"Which moons Doctor?"

"Any of them love, as long as you come with me," he whispered, tipping your chin up and kissing you gently.

You felt a swirl of emotions that you never knew you could feel before, and even more as he swung you off your feet, and placing you down gently.

"Uh, Doctor.. I think we're being stared at," you pointed out.

The entire room turned to look at you both, A truly handsome couple, the queen thought.

He placed a hand around your waist and began leading you back to the TARDIS.

"Well then, they'll definitely be staring after they see us walking into broom closet together," he snickered.

Your mouth dropped but returned to a content smile, not believing the wonderful night that just occurred.

#doctor who #tenth doctor #doctor who imagine #doctor who x reader #10th doctor x reader #bbc doctor who #doctor who fanfiction #10th doctor #y/n #the doctor imagine #doctor who x y/n #doctor who x you #fluff #romance

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atravellerstale-meg · 2 years ago

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Please check out this awesome art and artist!!

my piece for @mcytblraufest: Jimmy and Scottin chapter 7 from @meganna2525's fic singing songs to the secrets behind my eye""

@salemoleander is the other artist we worked with and I loved this event so much!

#reblog things #not writing #tltllau #singing songs to the secrets behind my eye #it seriously puts such a big smile on my face every time i see it #the Details of Scott's waistcoat #the Vibes of the whole piece #the Colours #is soso amazing i love it so much #<3

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old-lemon-tree · 6 days ago

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I love The Gilded Cage

Sometimes I just replay it for the sake of it, it’s just so fun and engaging. The scripted dialogue is so well written, and the little glimpses of character you see from people you usually don’t see in this kind of setting are amazing.

I’m also overly obsessed with the way they dress because

Hosea Perfect. Almost. Wait a minute– you start seeing what’s wrong only when you look at it, like the story he's been spinning that doesn’t hold that much water if you listen closely. His tie is outdated and considered the wrong color for the kind of event. His waistcoat is the wrong shape too.

Bill A mess. Please get him out of here.

Dutch Overdoing it to shit and still getting it wrong. Why is your hat so tall? Looks like something your dad could’ve worn and–Jesus fix your collar, who taught you to put on a tie?! IS THAT A MORNING COAT!? AT MY EVENING SOIREE!??!?

Arthur Arthur is perfect. Either the tailor liked him and gave him the perfect attire for the evening, or he’s secretly reading fashion magazines behind our backs. He was literally the embodiment of what formal fashion was like at that time.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #dutch van der linde #hosea matthews #bill williamson #thoughts

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tallulah477 · 1 year ago

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Birthday Gift

Kinkmas Day 2: Titty Fucking

Pairing: Prince!Human!Neteyam x Maid!Human!Reader

Warnings: AgedUp!Neteyam, Tit fucking, Slight dirty talk, Slight possessive/obsessive behavior and language, Cumming on chest/tits

Word Count: 2.3K

A/N: Dedicated to @tsewtx for creating this fantastic AU. Love you, Wren! Catch up on Royalty AU here!

Summary: (Royalty AU) Prince Neteyam receives a lot of fine gifts for his birthday, but the only thing he really wants is you on your knees and your perfect tits around his cock.

Prince Neteyam always receives many gifts for his birthday.

He is recipient to the finest jewelry, made from precious metals and adorned with a multitude of diamonds, emeralds, and sapphires. Amongst the small mountains of gold and silver crafted pieces, hang other pieces of lavish clothing - soft, silk dress shirts in multiple colors, intricate waistcoats that look like they took a lifetime to create.

A new pair of leather riding boots that would look good on him, but that look amazing on you.

“C’mon, y/n,” He mumbles, dark eyes glittering with desire as they trace along your standing figure. “Show me the new things I own,”

You stand in front of him, clad only in an unbuttoned emerald green silk shirt that falls halfway down your thighs and the leather boots that hug your legs until just below the knee, the little buckles on the sides clanking with each step you take as you walk uncertainty towards him, giving him a small twirl when he silently moves his pointer finger in a circle.

He grins at your hesitance. So many years of doing this with him, being his good girl, his whore, the perfect little maid for his majesty - and you’re still so shy, like somehow you’re not 100% positive that he's completely and utterly obsessed with you.

“You don’t have to be bashful,” He says, leaning forwards so he can rest his forearms on his thighs as he gazes at the expanse of soft skin on display, both between the gap of the shirt hem and boots as well as the tempting sliver of smooth, markable canvas shown between the open button down. “You know you’re the most beautiful woman alive.”

The flush on your face and the way you can’t meet his eyes make his cock even harder in his trousers. The hard length pushes at the tight material, threatening to burst the seams. Neteyam stands, eager to be closer to you, to touch you, and relieve some of the pressure. He crosses the room, tall figure towering over yours as he stares down at you, eyes filled with heat as he grips your jaw in his large hand, possessively.

“You look so pretty in my clothing,” He murmurs, tilting your head up so your plump lips brush against his.

“Thank you, your highness,”

Neteyam’s lips are warm against yours as he kisses you, the soft press of his mouth against yours is enough to make your breathing stutter no matter how many times it’s happened before. His lips slide across your cheek, laying gentle kiss after gentle kiss along the heated skin as he makes his way to your ear. His breath is hot against the curve as he breathes, “Are you going to be a good girl for me and give me my present?”

You nod, voice struggling to manifest when he nibbles on the shell of your ear, and you’re just able to force out a squeaky, “Yes, highness,”

He kisses you again, this time a little harder, a little more needy. His free hand moves to brush the soft material of the shirt to the side, revealing one of your breasts to his hungry gaze and brushing his thumb over your hard nipple, before pulling back and biting his bottom lip with a wicked smirk.

“Undress me then,”

His long fingers tease along the sensitive skin of your thigh as you work carefully on undoing the clasps of his shirt. Your delicate hands push the material off of his broad shoulders, revealing the toned expanse of his chest and your eyes can’t help the way they zero in on the excited rise and fall of his chest and the muscles that shift under his skin. The necklace around his neck shifts in time with his breaths, the small thin golden band he had made for you years ago threaded through the chain lays next to his heart - exactly where it should be, he tells you, until he’s able to put it on your finger officially.

The metal glistens in the low light of the room, contrasting beautifully against his dark skin, but your eyes are pulled away from the sight when his hand cups your jaw again.

“Going a bit slow, aren’t we?” He chuckles, lips brushing against yours with each word. “You know it’s not fair to tease the birthday boy.”

His hands grip yours, warm palms dragging your own across the strong muscles of his chest and down the flat planes of his stomach until they reach the waistband of his pants. He keeps one of your hands there, and your fingertips gently caress the skin just above the fabric. He guides your other hand down further until you’re cupping his bulge, feeling the thick hardness in your hand.

“Feel how hard I am for you?” He murmurs, hand tightening around yours to make your fingers curl around him through the taut material. “Need you so much.”

“I’ll take good care of you,” You promise.

Your hands expertly work at the fastenings on his trousers, his length jumping out and slapping against his belly, long and thick and beautiful in its glory. His cock is familiar to you - intimately familiar in the way that every part of your body knows the shape and size of it by memory. Every ridge, vein, and curve - engraved in your brain and heart.

He prefers to fuck you. Is obsessed with the feeling of your tight heat wrapped around his cock like a warm hug he never wants to be released from. He loves to feel the way your pussy clenches around his length, wants to feel your nails raking across his back as he ruts into you, hear your pretty mewls when he pounds your cervix before he floods your insides with his release.

He wants you on your back, or on your stomach, or on your side - it doesn’t matter. He wants you anyway he can have you, just as long as it’s you with him, crying his name as you cream all over his cock.

And he’ll get that. Soon. But for now, he wants this.

He kicks his pants off, suddenly impatient as he stares down at you. He pulls you towards him, catching you off guard with the force of his tug as he sits on the chaise at the foot of his bed, and you fall onto his lap with a shocked yelp.

“Teyam!” You gasp, and his nickname falls from your lips without you even catching it.

“Be a good girl and give me what I want, okay?” He grunts, ripping the silk shirt from your body and leaving you entirely bare to his hungry gaze, save for the boots still hugging your legs. “On your knees. Now.”

You rush to comply - the firm, authoritative timbre of his voice sending shivers down your spine as you slide off of his lap and onto the floor. Neteyam leans back against his bed, the weight of his body supported on his forearms as his upper half lounges against the soft covers. His thighs are spread wide to accommodate your position between them and his cock pulses at the view.

It’s not a new sight, but it’s still his favorite sight.

You on your knees, staring up at him with those eyes, batting your long lashes at him with a combined look of shy maiden and sex vixen that makes him want to slide his hand in your hair and push your face into the ground so he can bury himself inside you from behind until the sounds you're making match the expression on your face. But no - he has a plan. He made you promise to give him whatever he wanted for his birthday, and he wants this.

“Come on, y/n,” He says, and he’s trying to be calm, trying to stay the golden, level headed prince that he should be, but even he can hear the whine in his voice. “Put them on me. Want to feel them,”

His breath feels like it's stuck in his lungs when you kneel up, hands cupping the sides of your chest as you lean closer and closer to his throbbing erection. His shirt and boots are not the only thing he’s put you in tonight. The fine jewelry of intricately made necklaces and rings he’s received throughout the day also adorn your perfect body. Three very expensive necklaces of varying lengths hang from your delicate neck, the regal blue stone on the longest one hanging beautifully just above the valley of your breasts.

The feel of your tits enveloping his length has him reeling, the soft pillowy mounds molding around his cock like they were made to cradle him between them. Your hands hold your breasts together tightly around him, the rings on your fingers shining in the light are a variety of mixed metals and glittering jewels, and he decides then and there that he never wants to wear them himself. He only ever wants to see the beautiful jewels on you.

It’s good, so good - the feel of your breasts massaging his heated length. But he needs more.

“Spit on it,” He groans, and it’s taking all he has to not just fuck up into the tight space. There’s already a wet line along the opening of the valley from his precum and he’s obsessed with the way your wet skin glistens in the low light of the room. “Spit on it, y/n. Get it all wet and slippery so I can fuck them.”

The sound that rips out of his throat when you do is almost a whimper. His cock twitches when you let the glob of saliva fall from your tongue and onto the flushed tip, the spit coating the head and running down the sides and into the warm and newly wet embrace of your breasts.

You do it again, adding more wetness to the mix to help with the slide as you glide yourself up and down his shaft. Neteyam lets out a punched out moan, hands balling into fists next to him as his head tilts back in pleasure, eyes fluttering closed for just a second before his head snaps back up, intent on not missing a second of the breathtaking image in front of him.

Your nipples are just peeking out from the cage of your fingers, two hard buds pointed tantalizingly between your pointer and middle fingers and he mourns the fact that he can’t both fuck your tits and suck on your nipples at the same time. His hips kick up, abs flexing as he rocks into the tight space, and the tip of his cock nudges the blue gem of the necklace with each thrust.

“So good for me,” He moans, reaching out to run his thumb along your bottom lip. He lets out a shuddering breath when your tongue comes out to swipe against the pad of his thumb. “Yeah, do that. Put your tongue to good use,”

Neteyam’s eyes roll back into his head at the first feel of your tongue on his swollen tip. He rocks faster, hips now completely off the chaise as he fucks your tits with vigor, your tongue lolling out to lap against the head every time it reappears back through the cradle of your breasts.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect,” He grunts. “So perfect for me.”

The sensation of his cock tapping against the wet muscle is driving him wild, and he can’t help but watch in wicked satisfaction as your own eyes hood in pleasure at the taste of his precum coating your tongue. He knows you, knows you better than anyone else ever will or ever could. He knows that if he were to sink his fingers between your thighs, you would be dripping for him.

“You were made for me,” He breathes. He can feel his stomach tightening as his orgasm barrels closer and closer. “Made just for me. Mine. My good girl, my whore.”

You hum in agreement, nodding enthusiastically as your responding moan vibrates through your tongue and against his cock. But it’s not enough. He needs the words - needs to hear them confirmed in your sweet, soft voice.

“Say it,” He demands. His mind is reeling, desperately trying to decide where he wants to cum. He wants to mark you everywhere - wants to cum on your pretty tits, paint them white with his release and watch as it drips down your gorgeous body. He wants to cum on your face, marking your beautiful features as his just so he can have an excuse to take you to the large tub across the room and wash your entire body clean, only to dirty you up again before you’ve even stepped out of it. He wants to lace his fingers in your hair and drag your head down, sheathing his cock in the warm embrace of your throat and mark you from the inside - it would be less messy, and you wouldn’t be able to wash it off afterwards. “Say it, y/n,”

“I’m yours,” You whisper, thighs unconsciously trying to rub together as you desperately try to keep up your pace and the pressure of your chest against his length. “Your whore,”

“F-fuck!” Neteyam whimpers. “Fuck, fuck,”

In the end, he chooses your tits. He stands abruptly, nudging you back slightly so he can stand properly in front of you and finishes himself off, fisting himself furiously as you gaze up at him with those innocent eyes of yours that just make him want to wreck you even more. He cums with a guttural groan, ropes of white shooting from his swollen tip and landing directly on your heaving breasts.

You look stunning - like a beautiful, fucked out goddess brought to Earth just for him to have and cherish. His cock twitches in interest as he continues to stare at you, and your hooded eyes look up at your Prince in awe.

If you thought you were getting any kind of a break, you were wrong.

**Special thanks to @neteyamsyawntu for the prompt!

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