wacky-nameless-inventor-24 - Tumblr blog

wacky-nameless-inventor-24 · 16 days ago

Text

HEHEEEE aftermath to the last one :3 same cw still apply but it’s like. the recovery from that

When Gandra woke she had no idea what time it was, other than that it was late.

There was no natural light that filtered down into the basement of the kind citizens who had let them hide in their house- which helped with the hiding, but not so well with the judgement of time.

The room was still softly lit, however. Gandra blinked up at the ceiling, trying to figure out why.

Bed creaking, she sat up. On the other side of the small room, a familiar figure sat on top of the nest of blankets arranged in front of the fireplace, where a small fire was built. Just enough light to illuminate the room, but not enough to wake anyone.

She slipped out of bed, careful not to step on the sleeping forms on the floor. There weren’t enough beds for all of them. In a few steps she’d crossed the room, and she put a hand on the Mad Ducktor’s shoulder as she sat on a soft pillow next to him. “Hey.”

He glanced up. “Hey.”

They got settled together, Mads tilting his head to rest on her shoulder.

“You’re up,” Gandra said softly. He’d barely been able to walk without help the last few days, she was surprised he’d get up and start a fire himself.

“Mm-hm.” As always, he sounded exhausted. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Are you in pain?”

“Not physically,” he mumbled. For being unable to sleep, he sounded quite like he was dozing.

“Anything I can do to help?” Gandra found the end of his left arm somewhere in the mess of blankets and held on to it, ignoring the scars she felt.

“You are helping,” he replied, nuzzling his face further against her shoulder. She smiled faintly.

They sat in silence for a moment, listening to the popping of the fire and the quiet breathing of the others sleeping behind them. It was warm here, and comfortable. Gandra took in a deep breath, and grinned when she felt Mads do the same.

He was the one to break the silence. “I didn’t get to thank you yet.”

“For what?”

“For getting me out of there. For getting us out of there.” He lifted his head so he could look her in the eyes. “You healed all of us, you saved all of our lives, you’re the only reason we have a chance at getting the kingdom back. Thank you.”

“I got you there in the first place,” Gandra pointed out, not meeting his gaze. “And anyone would’ve done it.”

“But you were the one brave enough to,” he nudged her with a shoulder. “You spent weeks living right up close to Heron just to get us out. That in itself is quite a feat. Besides-” he let out a breath. “We all sort of knew it was only a matter of time before things got bad. With you here we have a chance.” He grinned at her.

She gave a half-hearted smile back. “I suppose. I still-”

“Shhhhhh,” he shushed her dramatically, pressing against her shoulder, his beak practically in her ear. She leaned away, giggling. “I don’t care anymore that you told her about me. I know it’s not something you would’ve ever done now. I forgive you. Let it go.”

Gandra sighed. “Alright. I’m still sorry.”

“That’s the last time you get to say that to me about this.” Mads told her. She giggled again.

“You’re not upset that I ruined your whole life?”

He rolled his eyes, as if he was tired of explaining it to her. “You’ve now gone on to save my life and the lives of the people closest to me, so would it make you happy if we called it even? Maybe a little more, just so you can feel better about yourself.”

She laughed and he shushed her, not wanting to wake the others.

They settled down, and he rested his head on her shoulder again. “What’s keeping you up?” she asked after a moment.

He didn’t answer for a second. “Everything. I don’t know what we’re going to do, I don’t know how long this safe space will last. We can’t fight back right now, we won’t be able to for a long time, and who knows how much will change until then. I’m worried about Beakley- with me gone, who knows how much she’ll become Heron’s new punching bag. I’m worried about you, that you’re blaming yourself too much and taking on too much. I’m worried about Blue, they’re so quiet and I’ve been too exhausted to check in on them. I’m worried about Fenton, he keeps trying to take care of me when he’s still too early in his recovery and I know as much as he tries to hide it he can barely walk either. I’m worried about Cabrera, Gearloose and Della, they’re so far from home and they’ve got kids to think of.”

Gandra let go of his arm to rub his back, taking all of that in. What could she possibly say to make him feel better? He was right about everything- his fears were all ones that she shared.

“You don’t have to worry about me,” she said at last. “I’ll be fine. I know that that doesn’t take much off of your plate, but-”

“No,” he leaned further into her. “I’ve really been worried about you, you’re taking care of three of us who mentally aren’t even here half the time, if not more. That’s a lot. If you’re sure that you can handle it and take care of yourself, then that really makes me feel better.”

Gandra blinked, unable to stop her smile. He cared about her. He was worried about her. Really, she knew this, but even though these weren’t the greatest of circumstances to get that validation it warmed her much more than the fire ever could. “I promise I’ll be alright. You three aren’t that bad.”

“Yes, we are.” He rolled his eyes. “Fenton and Blue don’t talk, and when they do Fenton’s defensive and Blue doesn’t even make sense. This is the first time I’ve been properly lucid since you got me out of that cage half a week ago and I keep waking everyone up screaming at night. We’re a lot, and I know we’re all incredibly grateful to you for saving us and keeping us going.”

“It’s not all just me, I mean, Cabrera, Della, and Gearloose-”

“Thank you, Gandra.”

She knew he wasn’t going to give it a rest until she accepted it. “You’re welcome.”

Another stretch of silence, Mads moved closer and she wrapped her arms around him as he buried his face in her shoulder. She always forgot how touchy he was, and how much she appreciated it. How much she missed his casual intimacy. She’d been aching for a moment to really check in on him, and now she got to feel him physically calm down as she held him in her arms.

After a moment he yawned, and she smiled. “Are you falling asleep now?”

“Maybe just a little,” he murmured, already sounding half asleep.

“Want me to carry you to bed?”

“‘N a minute… I want ‘t stay with you.”

Gandra smiled. “Alright, a minute then.”

She tightened her arms around him, and gently rocked the two of them side to side as she stared into the fire, feeling his breathing slow against her. Without any new fuel the sticks slowly burned into embers, barely enough to see by. She figured she had better get him to bed before the room was plunged back into darkness.

Gandra slipped an arm under his legs and stood from the nest in one fluid motion, holding him bridal style. She had no idea whether he was truly asleep or not but he sure looked like it, he let out a sleepy little sigh as she straightened up.

Behind them there were two beds against either wall with three bedrolls laid out between them, Gandra carried him to the bed on the left. He was still so thin, concerningly light. She gently laid him down, adjusting the blankets on top of him. It could get cold down here.

As she tucked Mads in, from next to him the former king of Duckburg stirred. “Hm?”

“He got up and made a fire,” Gandra whispered as Crackshell propped himself up on one elbow, immediately alert as she got Mads settled. “I sat with him for a minute and he fell back asleep.”

“He got up?” the king squinted.

“I was surprised too,” Gandra straightened up. “Good night.”

“G’night,” Crackshell settled back down, wrapping an arm around Mads and tugging him closer. “Thank you.”

He was asleep before Gandra could let that sink in.

Carefully stepping across the sleeping Cabrera, Gearloose, and Della, Gandra climbed back into the other bed next to the Blue Phantom, who, as usual, lay facing away from her and as far away from her as they could possibly be. She knew not to take it personally, as introverted as they were, they'd retreated even further into themself since she’d gotten them free. They rarely spoke, mostly sitting in the corner and watching everything with a wide-eyed stare. When they did speak it was usually gibberish as they had another breakdown. With their magic drained these breakdowns no longer came with the threat of a magical storm, but they would hyperventilate enough to nearly pass out every time. Gandra had been swept up in taking care of the other two, so Cabrera had been keeping a close eye on them the last few days.

She watched them for a moment, listening to their breathing. They were alright, for now. Everyone here was okay.

That was the first time both she and Mads slept peacefully through the rest of the night.

#yeaaaaaag comfort to the hurt <3333 #beloveds‼️‼️‼️#gandra dee #mad ducktor #madfen royalty au #nfenton shows up for a minute but he has like five tags so. I don’t have the energy #ducktales #ducktales 2017 #dt17 #duckverse #wacky writes

7 notes · View notes

wacky-nameless-inventor-24 · 17 days ago

Text

heheeeee royalty au finale bad ending <33

strongggg cw for extensive physical torture and also imprisonment and restraints(??)

Gandra held her breath as she pushed the heavy metal door open, wincing as it scraped loudly against the brick floor. Leaning out into the hall, she quadruple-checked that there was no one there.

She knew Heron’s trust in her would greatly lessen if she knew her new favorite student had visited.

Waiting, heart in her throat, to make sure no one was there, she eventually stepped inside the room, not letting out a breath until she had the screaming door shut. She triple-checked she still had the correct key, that she could get it open again.

Getting trapped in here would likely ruin everything.

Taking in another deep breath, Gandra turned around.

He lay facing toward her, but he couldn’t see her. In the dim cold light let in from the small barred window he looked even worse. Thin and sickly, feathers matted, a hollowed face, waxy skin where his feathers were missing.

Gandra took a few steps forward, standing over him. Forcing down her horror, she knelt, touching his shoulder.

Despite being unable to see or hear her, he didn’t jump. He didn’t move.

He was blindfolded and gagged, and his ears were covered. He was left entirely unable to sense his surroundings, as his arms were bound tightly in front of him, and his feet lashed together at the ankles behind him. Even if he was able to change position, he didn’t look strong enough to.

Gandra knew the only reason Heron hadn’t cut out his tongue was because she had much worse planned.

Gandra knew the only reason Heron hadn’t plucked out his eyes was because she had much worse planned.

Reaching up, Gandra gingerly slipped off his ear coverings, and reached to undo the muzzle tightly clamped around his beak. It was purposefully too tight- paining his teeth and his jaw as he was forced to harshly bite down.

“Mads?” she whispered. He was breathing, but he didn’t feel alive. His body was frigid to the touch.

“Gand-” he broke off, coughing. It wasn’t the usual clearing of a throat after being unable to speak for several hours, rather a guttural, full-body cough that sent tremors all the way to his talons. Curling slightly in on himself he coughed for nearly a full minute, Gandra gently holding the back of his head, one of the only places he looked safe enough to touch.

When he was finally able to speak his voice sounded rough and strained, and physically painful. She moved to tug off his blindfold, and he tilted his head away from her. “Don’t.”

“Why not?” Her hand went back to his shoulder.

“It’ll be too bright,” he pointed out. “‘S this a rescue?”

Though she knew he couldn’t see him, Gandra smiled slightly, sympathetically. There were tears in her eyes. “Not yet. I will get you out of here, we’re just- we’re just not ready yet.” It felt like an admission of failure.

“Where’s Fenton?”

Gandra let out a breath as she recalled the former king of what was once Duckburg, forced at the foot of St. Canard’s king’s throne, hands bound and a chain around his neck. Their king’s new prize for finally overthrowing the other kingdom. Treated as nothing more than a trophy. “He’s… he’s been taken. He’s in better shape than you, though.”

“And Blue?”

Gandra’s heart dropped.

Since returning with an intent to get Mads out of here, she hadn’t heard any word of the Blue Phantom, who had been taken even before the Mad Ducktor. As she was now Heron’s favorite the instructor told her everything, and she had never mentioned Duckburg’s former royal wizard. They weren’t in any of the cells, they’d just disappeared.

And Instructor Heron’s new magic color was a familiar ice blue.

Gandra leaned down, kissing his forehead. “I’m so sorry, Mads.”

He was silent.

There were too many things to say, too many things to explain, to apologize for. Gandra knew she could never say it all, there wasn’t enough time. A hand still on his shoulder, she couldn’t help but examine him further, unable to tear her eyes away.

The most noticeable signs were the bruises across his face. His entire body was littered with them, but they were mostly concentrated there. She wouldn’t be surprised if he had dark black eyes beneath his blindfold.

There were dozens of cuts lashed into his back, the recent ones ranging from a few weeks to a few days old, layered on top of the scars left from years ago. Left untreated, none of them had healed properly, Gandra had to force her gaze away from the visible infections there as her stomach churned. He’d been branded with the official sign of the assassins at least three different places, also untreated, his feathers melted to his skin.

His arms were bound at the elbow, the end of his left arm plucked bare of feathers and left still bleeding in several places. Gandra noted the feathers on the ends of his right-hand fingers were crusted with dried blood as well, looking as if he’d been clawing at something. The position looked incredibly uncomfortable, and his elbows were rubbed raw by the metal manacles.

His hair had been unevenly and crudely cut, he was left with nothing but a collection of purple tufts on top of his head.

In addition to all of this, he looked painfully thin. Skin clung to his ribs, his shoulder blades jutting out harshly, his legs nothing more than skin and bone. Gandra wondered the last time he’d tasted anything other than his own blood. He was visibly sick, his breathing ragged. The room was ice cold, Gandra was already shivering, and it left his body freezing. Other than when she’d touched his forehead- his fever was burning him alive.

Gandra was knelt next to his stomach, his arms extended out in front of her knees.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, hardly audible over the sound of his breathing. “Mads- Mads I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for getting you in this situation, I’m sorry for not being able to rescue you yet, I’m sorry for giving you away. I’m sorry I couldn’t- I couldn’t stop this, I’m sorry after you saved me I took away your entire life. I’m sorry.”

He swallowed, a forced, painful wetting of his throat. “It… this was inevitable.”

Gandra broke.

Bursting into tears she leaned down to hold the back of his head, lightly resting her forehead against his temple as she sobbed, tears wetting his feathers. Her quiet sobbing mixed with his breathing, echoing throughout the stone room around them, reflecting their pain back on them. There was a bruise on his cheek she was careful to avoid touching as she kissed his temple. “I’m sorry.”

He didn’t reply.

Gandra stayed in the cell as long as she could get away with, curled up next to him on the cold stone floor for hours. They lay there in silence, clinging to the quiet company. Gandra was only able to touch his shoulder, everywhere else looked too painful.

They were moving him tomorrow to a cell suspended over the city’s main square, to be jeered at by the crowd passing below. A box too small for him, specifically designed to trigger his claustrophobia. This was the last moment she’d get with him.

And Gandra grasped on to it, holding onto him with all of her might, until it drained away through her fingers like water.

#uaaaagh #i don’t have this entire ending planned out but as you can see it is. bad #gandra dee #mad ducktor #madfen royalty au #ducktales #ducktales 2017 #dt17 #duckverse #torture #tw torture #cw torture #whump #wacky writes

8 notes · View notes

wacky-nameless-inventor-24 · 18 days ago

Text

tinsel :3

#hehe sillies #gyro gearloose #fenton crackshell cabrera #fenro #ducktales #ducktales 2017 #dt17 #duckverse #wackys art

77 notes · View notes

wacky-nameless-inventor-24 · 20 days ago

Text

am drawing and it’s very cool but it’s all symbolic royalty stuff is that okay

am writing but only royalty stuff is that okay

#uaaaagh idk what to do because literally all of my ideas are royalty stuff #wackys soliloquies

10 notes · View notes

wacky-nameless-inventor-24 · 24 days ago

Text

He’s ready for winter!!!

#also Christmas blog update 🔥🔥🔥#sorry wait not fire #Christmas blog update ❄️❄️❄️#b.o.y.d.#b.o.y.d. gearloose #boyd gearloose #ducktales #ducktales 2017 #dt17 #duckverse #wackys art

100 notes · View notes

wacky-nameless-inventor-24 · 25 days ago

Text

alr fine here you go have fun <333

Ik like. three people are gonna read this but I wrote this as a joke of ‘haha let’s make people embarrassed while they’re with their family on thanksgiving’ but also for the people that are with shitty family members hello I see you I love you here’s some gay sex to get you through today I believe in you you’re amazing <3333

The king sat back on his haunches, a smile playing on his face as he tilted his head. “You want it soft and possessive?”

Beneath him the Mad Ducktor was flushed, and refusing to meet his gaze. “If you can,” he was almost pouting, it’d taken a moment for Fenton to pull that confession from him.

Fenton fell forward, hands landing on either side of Mads’ head. “Of course,” he murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to Mads’ jaw. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed by.” He could feel him tense slightly beneath him, so he rested a hand on his chest. “Relax.”

Quick fingers had the Mad Ducktor’s shirt undone in seconds, while he kept him distracted with kisses to his neck and jaw. At last he pulled away the clothes, now able to reach beneath his collar.

A soft bite to his shoulder. Mads gasped.

Smirking against the side of his neck, Fenton slipped his hands down to his belt. “All dressed up for me, hm?”

“W-well, they’re really just my casual clothes-“

“Hush,” Fenton sat up slightly, holding a hand to Mads’ beak. “I’m trying to get the ‘possessive’ part down.”

Mads giggled, and Fenton failed at hiding his grin as he finished getting his pants off. He ran his hands through the feathers of Mads’ torso, against the grain.

“Now you,” the Mad Ducktor reached up and unclasped the king’s cape.

Sitting back fully Fenton finished the job, his clothes landing with Mads’ on the stone floor of their room. He leaned back down, nipping at Mads’ neck.

“You wear a high collar, yes?” The king’s tone was soft yet casual, his breath ruffling the feathers of Mads’ neck. “So no one will see if I leave marks here. Unless- unless you want them to? You want others to see traces of me on you?”

He bit and sucked, finally pulling a whine from the bird beneath him. Mads’ mouth fell open as he tried to catch his breath.

Fenton at last moved away, sitting back slightly to admire his work. A soft purple mark was left on Mads’ neck, and he smiled. “And we can’t have just one- do you need more?”

He continued, leaving a variety of dark marks across the skin of Mads’ neck and shoulders. The assassin slowly got louder, head tipped back as he gasped and whined and moaned. Fenton could feel the heat building between his legs at the sound alone.

He left his marks in places that would be covered by Mads’ usual outfit- knowing in reality how much he would hate it if they were visible. But for today, it was a small fantasy they allowed both of them to indulge in.

Satisfied, the king let his hand slowly trail down Mads’ abdomen before gently making contact with the space between his legs. Mads squeezed his eyes shut and let out the smallest of whimpers.

“Already so wet for me…” the king slipped a finger inside of him. “Good.”

The assassin let out a heavy breath. “Gods- Fenton-“

Fenton grinned at the reaction, watching Mads’ face contort in pleasure. Just as asked he was slow, drawing it out for as long as he was patient enough before adding another finger. Mads’ hand gripped the sheet next to him.

“Wait-“ Fenton momentarily broke their spell. “Do you want it gentle slow or edging slow?”

Mads’ eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. “If you don’t hurry up and get in me Fenton I swear to-“

The king laughed and added a third finger on a particularly deep thrust, effectively silencing him with his own moan.

A few more thrusts, then Fenton pulled his fingers away. Mads whined, but the king compensated quickly by positioning himself between his legs, stroking himself with Mads’ wetness. He leaned down to murmur in his ear. “Will you beg for me?”

Mads wasted no time. “Please, Fen please- I need you. Use me, please-“

“Good job,” Fenton praised, pulling him into a kiss. He slipped his tongue inside of him as he slid himself in to the hilt.

Mads arched up into him with a loud moan, muffled by the king’s beak. Fenton moaned back and pulled away, half-lidded eyes watching the Mad Ducktor gasp. “Fenton please-“

Fenton immediately pulled out to just the tip before sinking back in, gentle, but as far as he could reach. “Ah- hmn- Fen-“

Setting a slow pace just as he’d been instructed, the king was deep and firm each time. Mads slowly came undone beneath him, begging and moaning with his eyes unfocused and his hand grasping at whatever he could reach. His left arm was braced against the mattress beneath him, trying to find a bit of purchase.

Fenton sat back slightly, making an attempt at a conversational tone once more. “Do you have any idea what it feels like to have the world’s deadliest assassin in my power?” He asked, only partially failing at keeping his voice level. “Mhh- he could kill me in an instant and has a dozen ways to do so yet he won’t because he’s mine?”

Mads’ moans grew, and the king grinned. At last, he could get into it. “The kingdom’s greatest weapon kept- kept on a leash by my throne- nngh- as a display of my power?” His hand traveled to the assassin’s neck. Mads didn’t like being choked so he simply rested his hand around his throat, letting him feel the idea of a collar. His other hand slid down to rub at his clit.

“This body-“ a particularly deep thrust- “these muscles…“ the hand between his legs sped up, “this strength… all mine.”

One final trust brought Mads over the edge, crying out as his lithe form spasmed. His eyes rolled back as he fluttered and squeezed around Fenton, and the king sucked in a breath. He gave a few more soft pushes before stilling inside of him.

Shaking legs wrapped around him, pulling him in further. “Hhmn- don’t stop.”

“You want to go again?” Fenton asked softly.

A furious nod. “Please- just give my clit a moment.”

Fenton pulled his hand away, resting his face in Mads’ neck as he slowly resumed his movement. He could feel Mads’ heart pounding against his chest as he moaned. “Yes.”

“Gods- but so much more than just- just my sword.” The king murmured, face still in Mads’ neck. “So, s-so much more.”

Fenton slid a hand up through his hair, gently gripping it from the roots and slowly, slowly pulling upwards. Mads’ eyes squeezed shut and his head tilted backwards, Fenton could feel his talons clenching.

With the assassin’s throat exposed and his hair being pulled hard enough to make his eyes water, Fenton lifted his head to whisper against his ear.

“You’re my prince.”

Mads fully jerked at that, hips canting upward to meet Fenton’s thrust while his head lashed back and forth even while he was pinned by the hair. He arched up into the king, Fenton slipped a hand between them to massage at his chest.

“My prince.” He repeated softly. “Royalty in your own right. Not simply on a leash next to me, but a throne. A thing to be cherished, adored, a thing to be worshipped.”

Mads’ throat was dry, he licked his lips. “Then- then worship me.”

“Of course, my prince.” Fenton breathed into his ear.

And he did. Leaving open-mouthed kisses along Mads’ collarbone, biting his shoulders, leaving hickeys on his neck. Groping his chest, pulling his hair, kissing him deeply. Properly ruffling his feathers, the ones that weren’t mussed from his beak or his hands standing on end with pleasure. All while fucking him slowly yet firmly into the mattress.

Mads’ hand traveled down to rub his clit once more, and Fenton gently pushed it out of the way. “Allow me.”

The assassin was trembling, Fenton kissed away the tears that were sliding down his face. Judging by the way his moans notably rose in volume Mads wasn’t going to last much longer, and neither was he.

“Don’t stop-“ Mads gasped suddenly, eyes still squeezed shut. “Fen don’t- mmng- don’t sto- ah- op.”

“My prince-“ Fenton murmured, “I want you to come for me.”

Mads whined, and Fenton found his hand in the sheets, momentarily gripping it tightly before bringing it down between his legs, replacing Fenton’s. The king then slid a hand up Mads’ thigh, adjusting their position as he lifted the assassin’s leg to partially rest against his own chest. With his other hand, Fenton pulled almost harshly on his hair.

Face buried in Mads’ neck, he gasped into his feathers. “Come for me my prince, I need you to.”

Mads cried out, but it wasn’t enough. Not quite yet.

Timed with a final thrust, Fenton turned his head and bit deeply into his shoulder, tasting blood this time.

Mads was past the point of screaming, head thrown back and his beak wide in a silent cry. Again he convulsed, teary eyes rolling back, his hips meeting Fenton’s, and his throat bobbing as he swallowed. At last, he let out a long, high-pitched moan that hiccuped with every thrust.

This time Fenton didn’t stop, rather his hand moved back to his clit, rubbing as quickly as he could, his thrusts sped up and became erratic. Letting go of Mads’ hair he sat up, head tipping back as he used the assassin to get himself off.

Mads never quieted, and after a moment Fenton looked down at him. “What- what are you?”

Still lost in a haze, Mads cracked open an eye. “Huh-uh-uhm-?”

“What are you?”

Mads met his gaze with half lidded eyes, a smile forming on his beak. It was such a look of lustful adoration that Fenton could barely hold himself together.

“Yours.”

“And- and what am I?”

“Mine. My- my king.”

Fuck.

They finished together, Mads letting out nothing but a breathy sigh as the king groaned low and loud, collapsing forward and barely catching himself on his forearm. Foreheads pressed together, their breaths mingling, they rode their highs together, bodies seizing against one another. Wave after wave crashed over them, all they could do was cling to each over.

At last the pleasure left them, and they caught their breath together. Fenton gently pulled out of Mads, knowing he had to be sore. Sure enough, the assassin whined.

“Shhh, shh, I’m sorry.” Fenton kissed his temple. “We’re done.”

Mads pulled him into a kiss.

It was slow and tired, no longer burning, now cooling.

Eventually the king pulled away and reached down to swipe away anything that may have dripped on the mattress. Mads arched slightly, a small spell radiating from him, and Fenton caught the fluids that were forced from him. “Was that soft and possessive enough for you?”

“Gods, that was perfect Fen.” Mads grinned at him. “Thank you.”

Fenton kissed his cheek, pulling away. “I’ll go wash my hands, then get you a spell for your shoulder.” It was a deep bite.

“Hmm- is it still bleeding?” Mads asked, tilting his head to let Fenton see it better.

The king leaned down, kissing at the wound, sucking at the blood. When he pulled away none returned, and he shook his head.

“Then just leave it.” Mads told him.

“You’re sure?” Fenton glanced at him.

Mads’ smile only grew. “I’m sure.”

The king kissed him once more. “Then I’ll go wash my hands and come get you, so we can clean you up.”

“I love you.”

“Love you, my prince.”

just saw that wanksgiving post and I love that idea…. I wasn’t ever planning on writing any royalty au smut but alas….

#sillies. biting them #hello is this good is this okay I don’t write smut like. ever #I get too self conscious sldlflglg #and I wrote this on my phone and I hate writing on my phone. so #anyway ty for reading ily <3333 #Mads pretends not to like the prince thing ‘it’s not the correct title!’ but they both know he secretly loves it #as shown. sldlflgkgfkfl #I will not be tagging this and I highly doubt anyone will reblog it so you get to see it right here right now or go to my blog for it 🫡#hiding it as much as I can- flfglgkg #anyway. happy thanksgiving?

14 notes · View notes