i give this pussy to you nine to five, five to nine. ♡
synopsis: tr men can’t get enough of you, neither could you. <;3
characters: chifuyu, kakucho, izana
warnings: mdni and ageless blogs dni. you will be blocked. f!reader, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, riding, izana is mean but a good type of mean, oral (f!receiving), lmk if i missed out more. oh also, izana talks in filo idc idc
mini taglist: @kira-rrh @fueledbysano @shinnsspretty @wakashawty <;33
chifuyu:
“oh, fuck.” chifuyu groans as he rolls his head back, a dull thump reverberating the room as you sink down his length in quick pumps. your arms were around his neck, lips sucking harshly at the bottom of his ear as breathy moans escape you.
“yeah, keep going baby. just like that.” he moans as he tries to open his eyes, groaning louder at the sight of your pretty tits in his face. he leans down and sucks one pert nipple, rewarded by a hitched breath on your behalf.
the blonde sucks harder once he hears your voice calling out his name, pitching higher in cadence as he thrusts even faster in your sticky pussy.
“shit.” chifuyu groans out. “you’re sucking me in so good. ‘ts like you want me to cum inside.” with your whimper as a response, his lust-filled eyes fell into a close as he grabbed on to the fat of your ass, dictating your movements as the both of you neared completion.
your pitches were consistently getting higher, his climax was nearing. the room felt hotter and chifuyu knew you were close. a sharp gasp left your lips as his dexterous fingers rubbed small quick circles on your bulging clit.
your pleas were all he could hear as he had one goal in his mind. to make you finish at the same time.
“close, baby?” his deep, raspy whimper made your stomach do a flip, you nod with conviction, wanting to feel him fill you up with his seed.
“just a little more, baby.” he whispers, biting his lip and opening his eyes to look down where you were connected, letting out another groan once he feels your clit throb repeatedly under his fingertips.
“fuck. fuck–” he released a long moan once he feels your releases surround his length, walls clenching onto him so tight that he couldn’t fight back the temptation to release inside your walls.
he stops moving you once the both of you rode out your orgasms, his lips searching for yours.
chifuyu, ever the romantic, needs to always end a session in a lazy makeout. he, however, was not prepared for your hips to start moving once more, hardening his softening member.
“shit, baby.” he leans his forehead to yours, eyes closing once more as he enjoys the ride. “you’re so fucking good to me.”
kakucho:
kakucho was a gentleman through and through, everyone and their moms know that. but all chivalry leaves his body when he sinks in your fluttering pussy and fucks you like some cheap whore on the streets.
your moans are what’s keeping him going, his mismatched eyes were lidded, trained on your mouth, watching how your perfect lips transitioned into numerous expressions before he couldn’t resist and stabbed his tongue into your mouth.
his cock was heavy as he pounds you into the mattress, not giving a fuck if his neighbors hear, hell, he’d even push you on the wall just for them to hear you clearer if he was feeling generous. but that would never happen. you were his. your pussy was his.
“k-kaku… please.” your shrill cries made him harder and made his pace impossibly faster.
“you wanna cum, ‘sweet thing?” a cry of confirmation leaves your lips as his hips slammed against yours. the sound of skin hitting skin reverberated against the room, accompanied by your moans and his.
“beg.” he whispers by your ear, feeling you seize up by his words before you were left a blubbering mess.
a chorus of pleas fell deaf on his ears as he hiked up your legs to his shoulder, pounding deeper, feeling your slippery cunt tighten up.
“you’re so– fuck. so good.” he whispers as he bends you in half, lips nibbling on your earlobe. “give it to me.‘ he says before giving you another powerful thrust, fingers massaging your clit to ride out your orgasm.
your body twitches as his fingers were relentless, he lets out a groan as he follows your lead, sticky ropes of white filled your dampness as he relaxes his hold on your leg, letting it fall to his waist as the both of you catch your breaths.
kakucho was about to pull out, switch back his chivalric mode on and get you a clean rag to clean you, but he was stopped when your leg pushed him down once more, hardening his softening cock. a sultry look on your face as you cant your hips upward.
“more.” you whisper, baring your neck to the side and kakucho curses his lack of self-control as he immediately darts forward to suck his mark on the expanse of your neck.
kakucho pulled away once he was satisfied with the reds and blues that were caused by his lips. a charming smirk enters his face, and you almost forget about the thick cock that was wedged inside of you.
“you asked for this, sweet thing.”
izana
a cry leaves your lips as you came for the second time, tears filling your eyes as you contracted from the stimulation that your lover gave you. speaking of, he was beneath you, focused violet eyes trained to the way your body was trembling as he gave your clit a harsh suck.
“z-zana…” it was sadistic, really. the way his eyes glinted mischief as he pulled away from your bud, but you couldn’t cheer for the loss of contact since he immediately replaced his mouth with his boney fingers, keeping two fingers flat on your clit, rubbing small, hard circles.
“‘ts too much…” you slurred out. you shivered at the hum he lets out, a sarcastic pout forms on his face as he leans up to meet you eye to eye.
“you can give me one more, can’t you, mahal?” the pet name seems to have hypnotized your as you nodded your head like a mindless bimbo. and at that point, maybe you were. you see the sinister grin that izana lets out as he pulls his fingers away, forcing you to suck his digits as he pumped his length with his other hand.
seemingly keeping eye contact, you were entranced by his violet eyes, tongue coating his fingers with saliva, izana smirks before pinching the muscle, keeping it in place as he positions his length from below.
he lets go of your tongue, in a daze, you kept it lolled out, waiting for his next move. the tanned male leaves no time to waste as he shoves his tongue inside your mouth and his length inside your warmth.
izana closes his eyes as he feels you moan, the vibration on your tongue intermingling with his as he cants his hips in a quick cadence, leaving broken moans to leave your lips as you pull away, gasping for air.
“tangina. ang sikip. (fuck, it’s tight.)” the deep rasp of his voice made you tighten against him, making another groan leave his lips as mumbles of foreign words were heard from his lips.
“akin ka lang. (you’re mine.)” he whispers as the slam of his hips get more brutal, his tongue darting out to lick the tears that were streaming by the side of your face, a grin forming on his.
“puta. ang ganda mo. (fuck. you’re beautiful.)” he smirks. “crying over your king’s cock like this.” by now he can feel the rhythmic tightening of your cunt against his throbbing length. he was close and so were you.
with this incoming orgasm being your third, it didn’t take you long to reach your end. a gasp leaving your lips as your body seized, clear fluid shooting out of you and wetting izana’s toned stomach.
“fuck.” izana groans as he cums right after. the tightening of your cunt too much for him to take. the only sound in the room being your heaving breaths.
you weren’t even fully rested before you felt izana buck his hips again. a whine left your lips as you laid there bonelessly, tired but you knew that your lover still had more to give you.
izana presses a quick kiss on your lips before he plants his arms on either side of your head.
“isa pa. (one more.)”
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Imagine Gale as a talented and impressive young man, able to compose the Weave at will, skilled in a way that few can match, and favored by the Goddess of Magic herself. Imagine that because of these accomplishments, he’s caught the eye of a few up-and-coming magic adepts, and he falls in love with one of them—his first real love. Gale isn’t one to toss the ‘L’ word around lightly, so when he tells them he loves them, he means it; he gives himself over to them completely.
And in return, they love him for his potential. For his status. For the magic he can command. They love the wizard they see on the surface, but not the man underneath. They are attracted to his power, but not to him.
So of course the relationship fails, after the thrill of his magic wears off. But because Gale is a resilient young man and he’s caught the eye of so many, he soon falls in love with another.
And then it happens again. And again.
And each time Gale’s heart is ravaged, his ambition to become a better wizard grows, because he’s being shown time and time again that his magic ability is all that matters.
So much so that, by the time Mystra decides to elevate him from Favored to Chosen to Lover, he welcomes her with eager, desperate arms. Because if all his worth is in his magic, and that’s all he has to offer, and that’s all anyone wants from him, who better to love him than the Goddess of Magic herself?
Except…there’s a nagging voice in the back of his head that whispers she doesn’t really love him. There’s anxiety in his heart as time passes, and he reaches both the limit of what his talents can do and what Mystra will allow him to do. And most troubling of all: a growing panic that, just like his other lovers, she will soon grow tired of him and discard him if he can’t improve his magic any further.
He tries pouting, and pleading, and begging her to let him take more power, to let him be more for her, but she refuses. Smiles patronizingly. Tells him to be patient. But Gale can’t be patient when his power is tied so closely to his self-worth; he can’t be patient when doing so in the past has only ever lead to heartache.
So he does what he believes will be a Grand Romantic Gesture, one that will finally put him on equal footing with the woman he loves. Instead, it turns out to be a folly that dooms him and destroys his talents. And just as he’d always feared, Mystra tosses him aside the moment his magical gifts are gone—because what’s left of him holds no value for her.
————
Imagine Gale in his tower, alone, afraid, the ever-hungry orb in his chest, with only his tressym there to help him. No other friends to speak of. His colleagues forced to keep away for their own safety. His magical talents utterly stripped down, so that even when he does try and distract himself with illusions, he’s bitterly reminded of what he used to be capable of. Waking every morning wondering if it will be his last, ending every day full of loneliness and disappointment.
…and then he meets Tav.
At the lowest point in his life, at his most vulnerable, when he knows he’s going to be considered a burden, he meets this stranger and their group. So he does what he can to be useful—assigning himself to be camp cook, offering up his (now meager) magic skills, turning the charm up to 11—as he desperately hopes this will somehow work out. He’s pleasantly surprised when, after providing only minor details of his condition, Tav agrees to help him. He’s even more surprised when they actually follow through.
Imagine how Gale feels as Tav treats him kindly. As he grows to trust Tav, and then grows to like them. Imagine his surprise as he opens up and shows them more and more of himself, and they don’t turn him away.
But then his condition worsens. And he has to reveal everything: the foolish mistakes he’s made, and how dangerous he is as a result. He clings to Tav’s hand as he shows them his folly. He’s at their mercy now, and he knows this might be the last time he’ll ever feel the touch of another being, if they decide—and Gods, why wouldn’t they decide?—to cast him out.
…but they don’t. They don’t. Instead, they tell him to stay.
Imagine the relief Gale feels. The gratitude. And perhaps…just a hint of something more. Something that he dare not name, but that flares to life every time he thinks of how warm their hand was in his. Something that feels dangerously close to jealousy, when he’s had too much to drink and sees Tav smiling at another…
But he knows these are all foolish thoughts, because he has nothing to offer Tav. They are wonderful just as they are, but he…he is an empty shell of a man, a discarded husk of a wizard, and while they might tolerate him, he could never believe they might actually want him.
And besides, he still thinks of Mystra. He still longs for Mystra. She who cast him out, but to whom he still feels tethered. Sometimes he needs to cocoon himself in the weave, just to try and calm his fears and bring some joy back to his life, because magic is his life. And sometimes he just needs to see her face, even though that hurts as much as it heals.
One night he’s lost in thought, having conjured Mysta’s image after settling down at camp. Thinking that even if she hadn’t ‘loved’ him—certainly not in the way he’d loved her—she’d given him enough otherwise, hadn’t she? She’d amused him and been amused by him, they’d shared countless pleasures, why hadn’t he been satisfied with that?
Gale is so lost in thought he doesn’t realize Tav has come up behind him. Until they ask a question, startling him out of his trance. He’s a bit shaken, so he tries to turn the conversation from Mystra to the weave itself. And then a wonderful idea occurs to him, something that he’d been toying with already: what if they were to conjure the weave together?
He can show Tav how important magic is to him, let them experience what he does, perhaps even impress them a bit. But most importantly, share a moment with them. As friends would do…
He’s elated when Tav agrees. He leads them through the steps effortlessly, and they’re a surprisingly good student, following his instructions correctly (if a bit clumsily). He’s as excited as they are—perhaps even more so!—when they succeed in channeling the weave.
It’s such a pleasant, familiar feeling for him, like coming home to his tower in Waterdeep. Even as the weave connects him with Tav and makes them one, he’s easily able to hide his innermost thoughts, because he’s done it so many times before.
…but he’s forgotten that Tav has not.
————
Imagine Gale knowing every romantic partner he ever had only wanted him because of how he could raise their status, or how he could amuse them, or how he could command magic for them. And, each time, he was happy to oblige them, even desperate to oblige them, because if that was the price of their love, then he was sure it would be worth it.
But it still all came to nothing.
Now imagine Gale connected in an intimate way with someone he likes very, very much—while being what he considers his lowest, most worthless, and most humbled self. As far from the powerful, impressive wizard he once was as he could ever be. And suddenly a vision enters his mind from the lovely creature standing next to him. Only, to his complete and utter shock, it isn’t one where he is providing them with a service, or wowing them with his magical ability, or granting them some kind of power from one of the spells he commands.
Instead, when he sees their desire laid bare before him, it’s a vision of kissing him. Of holding his hand. The two most basic forms of affection and physical connection. The two things that he would still be able to offer them even if every last ounce of his remaining magical abilities were stripped from him. The two things he could share with them even if he was no longer Gale of Waterdeep, and just plain old Gale Dekarios instead.
Imagine the embarrassment and trepidation he feels at first, because surely he is mistaken?…and then the elation when he realizes that he is not. So much elation that his concentration is broken, the weave dissipating as he forgets about channeling it, as he forgets about Mystra. Because all that matters to him now is the image before him—the most pleasant and welcome image he’s seen in a very, very long time.
Imagine how that would feel…and how besotted, enamored and completely devoted he’d be to Tav afterwards. To know that someone finally—finally—just wants him.
Just imagine.
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