This is perfect, wonderful, magnificent, everything I wanted
Sunset
You’re a princess, though the last of several siblings, set to never wear the crown of your kingdom. The last to marry, you're suddenly betrothed after your father waged your hand in marriage in some game of bow and arrow. Though you and your knight, Maki, have been content with bottling up your affections for one another, this sudden betrothal has you both wishing for something you know you can't have.
Pairing: Knight!Maki x Princess!Fem!Reader
Length: 5.6K
Notes: royalty AU (non-curse). its briefly mentioned that maki and reader spent the night together once when they were drunk. reader is implied shorter than Maki, wears a dress, is referred to as princess of course. There's an implied scenario where reader pretends to be a prostitute (not in a sexual way). Period-typical homophobia/misogyny/forced marriage etc. wingman!nobara. reader is not shy uwu
CW: kissing, nipple play, oral sex, overstim, thigh humping, fingering, tribadism.
A/N: this is my first time writing for Maki she's very soft and probably OOC but pls be nice about it ty <3 I wanted to write something soft for her so ! posting as part of @bizarrebankai fantasy AU collab please check them out and give them a big congrats on their milestone!
Another sigh escapes your lips, one to join the countless others. For such a long time it was easy to delay the inevitable; you’re the fifth in a line of royal sons and daughters, never to inherit your throne, one treaty or gift-from-The-King away from becoming some second-rate noble’s wife and nothing more. With the betrothals of your elder siblings long past, yours had slipped to the back of your mind, your potential marriage becoming something of a “someday” and “eventually”.
At least until some weeks ago, when your father had drunkenly promised your hand in an archery wager. So fickle are the words of men, to leave something so monumental to the whims of the bow and arrow. The death of some poor fowl signifying the end of your naivety.
In another life perhaps you’d laugh over such a thing; you were as faithful to your royal duties as you could be, and kind to a fault. You’d give this man who had won your hand the benefit of the doubt: A man so skilled at archery, a friend of your father’s—what harm could it be?
But in this life, the thought of a marriage pains you. You’d never given it all that much thought, content with your lavish life so far, but at the inception of this sudden and forced betrothal, being a princess is no longer a title you wish for. All because you’ve already given your heart to a woman with eyes like sunsets and a wicked tongue.
“He’s here.” Her voice is sharp, cutting through the warm afternoon air like a reaper’s scythe.
You turn towards the source to gaze upon sunsets, hardened, pointed, authoritarian—as is the nature of your knight—until they soften when they land on you. She would rather lie in a six-foot trench than admit the meaning behind the softness in that gaze. But you’d deciphered it before Maki herself could. You are kind but you are not a fool. Many years in her company have left you an expert at even the smallest changes in her countenance.
“Leave us.”
To everyone in the room—your servants, your ladies-in-waiting—your voice sounds monotone, unaffected. Your ladies are inclined to think perhaps you are nervous and masking it well, anxiety welling up with every passing second as your betrothed waits in the gardens for your appearance. Miwa, as innocent as she is, she’s the first to nod and turn away, picking up her skirts as she goes. Nobara hesitates, suspicious eyes flicking between you and your knight before dropping the fabric strings of your corset in her hands, joining Miwa in exiting the room. The servants follow with less of a fuss, cloaking their stares with timid nods of their heads.
When the ladies leave, Maki closes the door behind them. That smirk that she always wears, as arrogant and flippant as it is, you suddenly feel affected by its absence.
“Princess,” (a title she stopped calling you in private many moons ago) “You shouldn’t keep that man waiting.”
Your eyes tilt to the dagger at her side, a brilliant silver tucked behind dark leather. You can’t see it, but you know the hilt is engraved, golden designs the color of her irises. A gift you’d given her to recognize her ascension to the kingsguard.
When you look down to her side and think of that man in the garden, a violent thought involving said dagger comes and goes as Maki's hands form fists at her sides. You shake it off, doubting you could ever take down a man like Maki could, as you’re turning to the mirror. You lament that you aren't as strong as Maki, in more ways than just physical. Would she do it for you if you asked it of her? You have no doubts she would.
You turn to the mirror, facing away from her. “Lady Nobara didn’t finish lacing the corset. Do you mind if—”
“Not something I haven’t done before,” she says with a step toward you. A joke that would sound smug if her voice wasn’t so meek. It’s unlike her.
You watch in the mirror as she steps closer towards your back, the sound of her leather soles clacking against the floorboards becoming louder and louder. Her dark hair, tied into a high ponytail, sways with each step, brushing against the high collar of her black royal uniform. You’re reminded by the shining badges atop her breast and the crest of her cape that she is a member of the Zenin clan, powerful knights serving your kingdom for centuries. You’ve always been in awe of her, from the moment your father had introduced her as your personal knight, but especially now up close. She’s a hardened knight by training but her features are soft, womanly. You stare at her lips in the mirror for far too long, only blinking away the image when they disappear behind your head, leaving you with only her golden eyes staring back at you from above your crown. You choose to focus on her fringe, dark threads gently resting just above her brow.
"You know you can't delay this forever," Maki says as she takes up the strings. She wraps the ends around both of her gloved fists, pulling at the base at the small of your back. “You’d been unwed for far too long… it was inevitable.”
"Maki..."
Your kingsguard becomes slightly bashful at the affectionate way that you say her name. In front of others, she is Lady Zenin, a Dame in her own right. But in the privacy of your room, when you are away from prying eyes and can be openly affectionate with each other... at those times, she's Maki, a woman without a clan and a title to her name. Simply the woman you’ve come to love.
"Don't 'Maki' me... not now." She laces the strings onto the first set of hooks and pulls, robbing you of your breath. Her hands are rough when they move up to lace up the next set of hooks.
"Are you cross with me?" You ask as she hides behind her fringe. "You know this is above us both."
"Not with you," she pulls as she laces the corset once more; gentler this time. "But... how can I feel? All the honors in the kingdom and I could never win your hand, no matter how many accolades, how much blood is split. Yet, to lose you over some simple game of archery, over some fowl, to a man who's never even—" she stops herself from disparaging a Lord, as lazy and pompous as she thinks they are. Even now, she holds her tongue. Is it out of (begrudging) respectful habit, or is it for your sake? She sighs, choosing not to reveal more of her feelings on the matter.
"Maki... what do you mean win my hand?"
You feel her hands pause. Perhaps it was a slip of the tongue. She'd kissed you before, touched you in ways a husband should touch his wife one night when you were both flushed with wine after a ball—but after apologizing and awkwardly moving past such a transgression, never had she said anything more to you. She’s never hinted at desiring you in ways your stations, and most importantly your gender, would not allow.
"It's nothing. We should," she quickly makes work of the remaining laces of your corset as she speaks, "we should go."
You turn around to face her as soon as she ties that last bow and pulls away. She wears avoidant eyes and flushed cheeks. You wonder if she ever feels that feeling in your chest you're feeling now when you look at her, like this sight of her alone takes your heart into her fist and squeezes. You’ve always had such strong feelings for her, captivated by her honeyed eyes since the day you met, but all the kissing and tossing in some stranger’s bed in the throes of inebriation would have never convinced you of her reciprocating those feelings for you.
You can't help but lean into her. She's struggling with indecision, her plush bottom lip tucked between her teeth. You reach up, pulling it away with one perfectly manicured thumb until her lips are free from her gnawing, perfectly plump below your fingertip.
"Do you mean that, Maki...? That you wish for my hand?"
She places her gloved hand atop yours, taking it into her own. Though her gesture speaks for her, she says nothing for fear of rejection. Because she can take it from anyone, with thick skin and scars as proof. But she could never take it if it's coming from you.
“I wish it were you who could have it, Maki. Wish I could always stay by your side.”
Her eyes widen a bit before they narrow with resolve. Maki’s only hesitation had been the fear that you didn’t feel that way about her. She’d put that guard over her heart, never revealing the depth of her feelings. She's a knight with feelings for her princess, damned to keep them hidden away forever, a sudden betrothal being the only thing pushing her over the edge.
She pulls you closer by the hand, and before you could blink she's kissing you, lips pressing against yours ardently. You watch with eyes blown wide as hers close, sunsets fading beneath beautiful whispy eyelashes and pale eyelids. You're frozen in place as your mind quickly shuffles between feelings of joy and surprise. When you settle on the feeling of lust, of want for her, is when you close your eyes and kiss her back.
"Maki." You say her name decidedly when she pulls away. Her lips, once a soft pink, are stained darker with the rouge Nobara had applied to your lips. You can already imagine the way Nobara would chide you for ruining your makeup.
Maki decides she loves the look of ruined makeup on the perfect princess standing before her.
"Yes?" She asks, the syllables of your name leaving her lips.
"You're sworn to me, are you not? To stay by my side?" She nods. One of her gloved hands finds its way to the small of your back, fingers dancing over the strings of your corset as if plucking the strings of a lute. "Then... if I were to leave, would you—“
"Princess."
Your hands ball the fabric of the coat over her chest, medallions poking your fingertips.
"I know you care nothing for your clan, Maki. And I care nothing for being some prize given away by my father to a noble house in the countryside. So, please? If we get caught... just... say I ran away, that I wanted nothing of this betrothal. That you're just coming along, to keep me safe. Just… take me away.”
"They'll have my head for that, Princess." She says it but part of her wonders if that's a better alternative than to watch you be ripped away from her.
"Mine too... and yet, I'd rather be in your company, Maki."
You realize that tears had begun to fall from your eyes when Maki wipes your cheek with a gloved hand. If only Maki knew how you’d considered this since the day your father had announced the betrothal to you.
"Don't cry." The last thing she ever wanted to do was make you cry. After a pause, she says, "Tonight."
"... tonight?"
"You wish to run away, don't you?"
"With you."
"Then, tonight. Under cover of darkness. Okay?" When she sees you open your lips to speak, she knows you wish to say 'right now!' because she knows just how hasty you can be, how emotions are the guide to your heart, rational thought to the wind. So she adds, "You can't leave now, not when everyone's expecting you in the gardens. So meet that man, and act as a princess should. I'll make some preparations. And we'll... we'll leave if you wish." Even Maki can't seem to believe the words she says. But when she's faced with you wanting to do anything to be by her side, how could she say no?
"I do, Maki... if you wish for my hand, then I want to find a way to give it to you."
"Why me?" A moment of self-consciousness takes over. Because to her, you are everything good, everything pure and beautiful. She's watched you for so many years, seen your kindness even when she was unworthy of it. And as much as she wants your affection, she doesn't always feel she deserves it. Even if she would take lives and burn the kingdom to the ground for it.
“Because I love you, Maki. You’re incredible—more worthy of being royalty than any stupid prince I’ve ever met. Just having you at my side has convinced me of that fact.”
Doubt only settles further onto her features. “But I—”
“Lady Zenin!” A voice comes from across the wooden door at the threshold of your room, followed by a series of three knocks. You recognize the voice: Nobara.
“Yes, Lady Kugisaki?” Maki turns away from you, toward the door. “You may come in.”
Nobara cracks the door open, eyes flicking between the two of you. She sees the state of your rouge, red smudged and existing upon Maki’s lips, and frowns. “Are you ready to escort the princess? Her betrothed grows weary.”
Maki straightens up and nods, collecting her composure. “Yes.”
Nobara removes a handkerchief from a pocket at her waist, handing it to Maki. “Let us leave then. Wipe your lips while I fix her rouge.”
You find yourself laughing when Maki silently takes the cloth, flames burning her cheeks.
After the bore that was meeting a lord and having the most ghastly tiresome of dinners, the servants bathed and dressed you for bed that night as normal, with the exception of you enduring Nobara’s teasing about the state she’d found you and Maki in. Perhaps it is because Lady Kugisaki shares your fondness for Maki that she finds no fault in your feelings for her. So during the preparations for bed, you’d confided in her that you wished to run away with your knight. And though she knew such a thing was dangerous, reckless—she said no word of stopping you. With a tight hug and a kiss to your cheek as a farewell, Nobara sent away your servants and guards with some excuse about how you’d caught a cold walking in the gardens without a shawl. The truth was you’d forgotten it with the state of frenzy that your mind had been in, but no one needed to know such a detail.
Long after the castle's buzz of you meeting your betrothed had died down and the anxiety began to settle in the pit of your stomach, when there was nothing but the sound of crickets and the wind, your knight made good on her promise. She came to you, dressed not in her regalia but in all black, a hooded cloak drawn over her features. She produced one for you, dark in color and long enough to cover the skirts of your ornate nightgown. Being the skilled knight that she is, she knew each secret passage, each dark secluded hall to travel until you'd made it undetected to the stables, your horse drawn and ready. The air was slightly cold, your breaths making puffs of smoke as you panted, but Maki kept you warm, pressing you close to her side.
As the thrill of escaping the castle ran through your veins, you wondered why you never did this sooner.
You rode into town on a single horse, holding onto her back as she held onto the reins, your heart racing in your chest. You’ve never done something so daring, but you put your life in her palm, and it feels freeing. The short escapade by horseback further sets in your mind that being at Maki’s side is exactly what you want: protection, devotion, and the thrill of risking your life for her love. A feeling you’d never felt in all the boring years of living behind castle walls.
The distance into town wasn't far by any means. Since you were not your elder siblings, you weren't one of the royals paraded around town and touted as the next king or queen. Your appearance, lucky, is therefore not recognizable to any of the guards, hidden beneath your cloak and missing its tiara. Maki, ironically enough, is more likely to be friendly with the guards. But it is easier to make an excuse in her case.
"Lady Zenin," the guard at an entrance point to the town nods, recognizing her even with the shroud upon her head. "What business do you have? You and your…?" the guard makes a pointed look at you. You hold the cloak tighter around your face.
"What business is it what I do in my free time?" Maki barks. The guard looks between you and her again, eyes drifting down to the arms you have wrapped tightly around Maki's midsection. When he looks at Maki again, he swears there is a dusting of pink across her cheeks.
"Ah..." he nods. Smirks. "Apologies, Lady Zenin. Enjoy your lady of the night, she sure is pretty."
If Maki weren't so concerned with concealing you, she'd jump off this horse and gauge out his eyes for calling you a common whore, for looking at you as if you were beneath him. You hold her closer, stifling a giggle.
“You saw nothing,” she huffs from between her teeth. “If you breathe a word of this—I’ll have your tongue.”
The guard knows from the disgust in her voice that her threat was no jest.
“Yes, my lady.”
You and Maki continue on horseback until the far end of town. She ties the horse to a stable outside of a lone inn, far from the crowded sections of town. She takes some time to remove the royal regalia on its reins, hiding it beneath a pile of hay. To any onlooker, her horse now looks just as dressed as a common man’s horse.
“Will this work?” You ask her as she dusts the dirt onto her dark pants.
“We’ll have to hope so,” she replies, pulling you closer to her. You know very little of this town, but Maki had explained the plan to you as you rode on horseback: this inn at the far end of town is run by someone she knows, the innkeeper being a man she trusts. In the morning, when the castle has discovered you’ve gone missing, the royal guards will search the crowded section of town, giving you time to press on. She is certain that the innkeeper will keep you concealed and trusts this as a place to rest for the night.
And you trust Maki’s judgment more than anyone in this world.
When the innkeeper first shows you to your room, it's so quiet you could hear the crackling of the fireplace at the end of the room just as loudly as your breathing. There’s only one bed in the room, a carved wooden frame supporting a bed smaller than the one in your bedchambers. You turn to Maki and see that her face burns at the sight.
“I can rest on the floor, Princess,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest and turning away.
You never pinned her as a fool until now.
You turn to her, reaching up to pull the hood of her cloak off her head. Dark tresses frame her rosy cheeks. You wonder if Maki looked this bashful the first time you kissed her, and mourn that the memory is so hazy.
“Lay with me, won’t you, Maki?”
She looks at you conflicted. On one hand, it’s quite late now, and she thinks you need your rest to continue your journey. But on the other, she really wants to fucking kiss you.
When you push back her hair and smile, her heart decides on the latter. She leans in to kiss you and at first, she’s shy. You can feel the restraint, the way her soft breaths against your lips turn staccato each time you push against her. But you know Maki at her essence is not shy—she’s like a burning flame, raging and all-consuming. You know she just needs a push.
So you push her, hands pulling the cloak off her shoulders as your tongue swipes across her bottom lip. She makes a sound, something like a hum or a squeak, surprised. When had her princess turned so daring? So Maki dares to push you too, hands reaching up to cup your jaw as you cling to her shoulders. With each touch of your lips, you can feel her quickly gain the confidence she was missing, her kisses becoming more forceful and wanting as she continues to steal your breath away.
One of her hands, as if on a will of its own, finds your waist. You gasp when your chest is pressed against hers and the sound startles Maki, bringing reason back to her clouded mind.
“I think…” she starts, staring at your lips, glossy with her kiss, “I think you should rest, before—”
“Before what, Maki?”
“I won’t be able to hold myself back,” she replies, honeyed eyes asking for assurance. “I don’t want to make that same mistake twice.”
“Mistake? The only mistake was pretending it didn’t happen. Pretending I’d forgotten. I should’ve just told you my feelings then, Maki. And I should’ve told you… just how badly I want it to happen again.”
She says nothing more then, the final set of protests dying with another kiss.
You were never much for religion but you count yourself blessed tonight, because, for the third time in your life, you get to see Maki bare before you.
The first was innocent enough: After a long day of journeying to visit one of your elder sisters, who’d gone and married some prince in a province quite far away, you invited Maki to rest in what was something foreign to you but common in this province: an outdoor bathhouse. Curious about the experience that your sister had raved about, you’d settled into the hot springs wrapped in cloth to hide your shame. But Maki had none—opting to forego the cloth and enjoy the bath without any barriers to her skin. And though you were mortified to realize that in that moment you were looking at Maki’s body, it was something of an awakening for you. The moment left you so ashamed you could not even hold Maki’s gaze the rest of the night, tossing and turning once alone in your chambers, plagued with thoughts that were unseemly for a princess destined to be a man’s bride.
The second time was the first time you’d ever put such lecherous thoughts to action. Sneaking away from a ball, inebriated and clumsy, Maki found you in the castle's dark halls tripping over your feet. Her mind clouded with quite a few cups of wine herself, she’d walked you back to your chambers with an arm around your waist. You’d said something to her about the pretty flush of her skin, though neither of you remembers it now, and when you refused to let her leave your bed she hastily returned whatever affections you gave her. You told her she was so beautiful (she was) and she told you you were too drunk (you were) but that didn’t stop you. And you kissed her, kissed her until her dark robes and your lovely blue dress were in a pile on your bedside and her skin looked ethereal under the cover of moonlight. She touched you in a way you’d never been touched before and you pretended to forget the next morning, when Maki was dressed and avoidant and apologetic and all the things you didn’t want her to be.
But tonight, this third time you see her as she is, she’s everything you want her to be. She’s kissing you not with shyness but with a frenzied passion, like her lungs ached for your breath. She’d taken you to the bed, peeled off your cloak and nightwear, and told you just how long she’d waited to have you again. With your head surrounded by feathered pillows and a curtain of her dark, silky hair, you finally felt as if you were in her world, in her grasp. Her tough, worn hands kneaded the softness of your sides as your insides throbbed, yearning for her the way women shouldn’t yearn for each other.
But you do, you tell her you do.
“Maki, touch me,” you plead to her, a string of saliva between your kiss-bitten lips. Your voice and your eyes are desperate and it makes Maki smile.
“Where do you want me to touch you?”
Your knees at her sides unwillingly part from her skin, dewy and hot. You open yourself up to her, your hand reaching between you to guide hers. You don’t even take your eyes off of each other, going by feel alone. You let her part your folds, to feel how wet you are for her.
“Here, Maki. Please.”
“Mm, not yet, Princess.” She shifts her body, straddling a thigh and placing one of her knees just between your thighs. You feel her skin press against your core, barely soothing the ache. “If we get caught tomorrow… or if this is a dream… then let me savor it, yeah?”
You smile at the smirk that dances on her lips. The Maki that you love—that teasing, playful woman who adores you more than she will ever say aloud—you let her have her way. She launches what feels like a full-on attack on all fronts, kissing your neck as her fingers squeeze your breast. She rolls a nipple between her fingers, teasing you mercilessly. You move your hips, helplessly grinding against her thigh to soothe the need you feel, drenching her thigh with your arousal. She leans over you, to kiss you again, and you moan in sync—she’d found just the right position for you both to grind against each other’s thighs.
What you feel becomes almost instinctual, then. The sounds of your moans, the lewd wet sound of your folds rubbing over her thigh, they only fuel Maki’s need to do the same, to shamelessly use you for her pleasure too. It’s like a push and pull, the way you take turns kissing and grinding onto each other. Maki stops, forgoing her pleasure as your moans get more desperate, your movements more pointed as your clit catches on her knee.
“Maki, Maki, Maki,” you’re calling her name again and again, the sound driving Maki absolutely insane. No one ever calls her by her name, simply by her title, by her clan name. It’s special, coming from you, and the way you say it now makes her realize she never wants to hear it from anyone else but you again.
“Let go,” she coos, kissing your cheek. When your jaw drops and your body starts to tremble she says, “Just like that, Princess.” She’s practically leaking onto your thigh when you gush on hers, drenching you both in your seeping arousal. Maki tells you she wants to taste, and before you can tell her no, that you want her to feel good too, she’s already got her face between your thighs. She spreads them wide, watching as your glistening hole twitches for her. She kisses you, opened mouth to your thighs and your sex, tasting the slick that coats your skin.
“You’re so pretty down here, Princess.”
“Don’t be so vulgar, Maki,” you laugh.
You look down, meeting her gaze, feeling a heat crawling up your skin as her smirking lips close around your clit. Your thighs instinctively squeeze around her head but she pushes one away with her hand.
“It isn’t vulgar if it's true,” she says, her voice low as she uses her free hand to pry your lips apart. “I would’ve never agreed to do this—to leave the castle, to do something so reckless. But if it means I could be with you like this as much as I wanted… I’d risk my life for you,” she admits, your name dripping off at the end, her voice sweet like honey.
“Mak—ah, Maki,” you raise an elbow to cover your flaming face as Maki sucks on your clit. She sees your other hand, your fingers clutching the fabric of the bedding beneath you, and she knows she has you. She’s moaning into your heat at the tangy sweet taste that hits her tongue, and a giddy excitement washes over her at the thought of how you’ll react if she adds a finger.
“Does it feel good, Princess?”
“Y-yes!” You’re practically arching your back when you feel a finger teasing your hole, your breathless pants accompanying the squelching sound that ensues. “I love this Maki…” you admit in a pleasure-induced haze.
She only sucks your clit harder, pushes her finger in further, her gaze captivated by the way you arch and shudder. When you were inebriated, she’d done some version of this—sloppy, hesitant, and unsure despite being laced with want and need—but this time she takes what you give her so eagerly, confidently. She adds a second finger, pumping into you with each flick of her tongue against that sensitive nub, and your whole body tenses when her fingers hit a spongy spot inside you. You moan, mouth agape, and she knows that's your spot, grazing over it with her fingertips repeatedly until your thighs start to clench. Pleasure overcomes your body in waves for the second time that night, your teeth gnawing on your lips to keep a loud squeal from waking the whole inn. Maki moans when she’s hit with another gush of your release on her tongue and her fingers, drinking down everything you give her. When your walls stop pulsing around her fingers, when you start to whimper from overstimulation, she pulls away from you, her face wet with your juices. But you make no sign of protest when she comes up to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on her lips.
She looks down at you affectionately, even with your body covered in sweat and smelling like sex. She’s the only one you’d ever trust with your life, let alone seeing you like this. You hold her close to you, arms around her neck, plastering her body to yours as you wrap your legs around her waist.
“Maki, what about you?” You whisper, breathless.
“I wanna watch you do that one more time… that alright, Princess?”
“Mm, I don’t know if I can take any more Maki…”
“I know you can,” she says, pulling away from your body to pry your thighs apart. “Let’s try this.”
You’re unsure of what she’s about to do, and you watch her with surprise as she slots herself between your thighs. Her weeping cunt, still begging for release, grinds against yours. The sound that comes from your bodies rubbing together makes your face burn because when you look down at where you are connected, it almost looks like she’s thrusting into you, like she’s truly making love to you.
“Maki,” you pull her closer again, your chests pressing together as she grinds against your hips. “Maki you’re amazing.”
Butterflies swarm her stomach at your praise but she can’t manage a reply, biting back a moan as her clit catches on yours. You don’t mind—you can tell simply by the warmth of the sunsets in her eyes that she means to say the same. She kisses you, swallowing your moans as she rocks against you, as her sensitive nipples rub against your chest. Your hands reach down, grabbing onto her thighs, keeping her right where she is. Your body’s feeling that high again—a third orgasm coming quickly as her skin rubs against that sensitive little nub over and over again.
This time she’s coming along with you, chasing that feeling desperately as she moans into your mouth. And when you both cum it's messy: sweaty, sticky, and wet, punctuated by a spent whimper from you and a relieved moan from Maki against your neck. She knows she’s heavy, her body all muscle, so she lays down beside you, labored breaths the only sound in the dead of night.
“Maki,” you whisper, once you can manage to speak and the haze of your orgasm clears.
She says your name like a question, her voice soft. Raspy.
“Do you really think we could get away with it… that I can stay by your side like this? Or was I being foolish asking this of you?”
She loops an arm around you, and you settle against her shoulder. Just the close contact eases the nerves that return, now that you remember that daybreak is but a few hours away.
“I think the only time either of us have been foolish,” she whispers, “is waiting this long to try.”
Tagging: @noritopia @lilitudemon @bloompompom @his-sweet-vixen @pu-re-love @blondeboyfriend @mrsackermannx @pisspope @jujutsukatsuki @chosos-mascara @s-une
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I- this is everything
you don’t know how it happened, or how you ended up here but your hands are on him, everywhere on him; his hair, his face, his chest. your index finger looped under his belt, pulling him in…
“eren,” you moan.
“yeah?”
you feel him grind against you, his boner pressing hard against your hip.
“here?” you ask quietly. you’re afraid the random rush of adrenaline that made him pin you up against the wall will vanish if you remind him about how risky this is.
his hands find your ass and pull you closer, so much closer, it answers for him. yes, here.
you’re wet. your shirt stuck on you, your bra inching and poking your skin in the wrong ways. his hair sending droplets of rain down your face. one second ago, you were running away from the rain with him, and now, you’re in a warmly lit room being shoved so hard against the wall, you’re afraid it’s a part of you now. and as good as it feel, as magically and exciting as it is to be held by eren like this, you know it must come to an end.
you pull away from his touch, and put your hand on his chest to push him away a bit. “baby, not here. remember they’re coming?”
he breathed heavy, too heavy. you can feel his heartbeat as if it’s your own from how close his body’s stuck to yours.
“i forgot,” he says with brows furrowed. you can still feel him.
you don’t know who ‘they’ are, or why they’re coming in this room but you know you can’t stay here longer.
eren pulls away from you, and with the same dissatisfied look on his face, he pulls you by the hand and into the restroom on the other side of the door you just passed by. he opens a stall door and locks it after he’s in.
you’re standing in front of the stall door when you say, “eren, are you sure?” you can’t help but find it incredibly attractive just how dominant he’s being, especially since he’s usually the exact opposite.
“yea.”
he turns you around and pushes his dick against your ass. you’re both still fully clothed, but it feels so good. he rubs his erection against you while he squeezes your hips. you moan and close your eyes, hoping he gets rid of the pulses that have achingly taken over your cunt.
eren’s moaning uncontrollably when he pushes your skirt up and pulls your panties aside. his tip lingers at your entrance.
“put it in, baby. i want you to.” with that he pushes in slow and deep. you always feel him so much bigger from this position.
“baby,” he groans. he picks up his pace in no time, fucking you hard against the cool stall.
you’re biting your lip as you feel him rub against your walls continuously, he takes his right hand against your clit. his mouth is open and breathing heavy against your ear when he says. “baby, how do you feel?”
“good.” you cry.
“good? yeah?” he shoved his hips closer to you.
“yea, baby. so good.” your eyes are squeezed shut.
“oh, my god. it feels so good.” he pants. eren gets so whiny when he’s close.
you open your legs further. “baby, are you close?”
“yea.” his eyes are shut and your ears are met with a string of curses not long after.
you arch your back and say, “you’re doing so good, baby. doing so good. you’re always so good.”
“baby, you feel so good.” his voice turns you on so much, it’s insane.
“yeah, baby? how does it feel?”
“wet, baby. so wet.” he’s fucking you so good, you know you’re close.
“baby, i’m close. oh, my god, baby, i’m so close.” you whisper, your face pressed against the stall.
“cum for me, baby. i want you to cum.” he cries out. “i want you to cum, baby. i want you to feel good.” he’s fucking you harder now, taking no mercy on you. his hand drawing steady circles on your puffy clit.
“baby, i’m gonna cum.”
eren kisses your neck and fastens his speed until he feels that pulsing sensation he knows too well around his dick. your pussy tightens around him, which is always his breaking point.
“baby, baby. i’m gonna cum.” his voice is raspy and low against your ear. “tell me you want me to cum, baby. please tell me to cum.”
“baby, cum, baby. please cum. i want you to cum in me baby.”
“yeah?” he whispers.
“yeah, baby. i want you to cum so bad. please cum for me baby.”
he cums in your cunt. thick and heavy. you feel it shooting in you and can’t help but to moan.
you both stay still in your positions, breathing slow and heavy. letting your euphoric highs come to an end. eren pulls out of you and before you move, he takes your ass cheeks in his hands and licks your pussy. you twitch, it’s sensitive. but he continues to suck and lick the cum out of you.
when he’s done, he takes you by the back of your head, turns you around, and spits it in your mouth. it tastes sweet. it’s insane, you always expected men to taste like liquified shit but eren, once again, is above the standard. you’d go as far as craving his cum in your mouth and finding it tasty.
you look at him in the eyes and swallow. he smiles shorty after and fills your face with kisses.
—
i haven’t posted in over a year, sorry if i’m rusty 🥲
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