#spite smut

[bitethedemon]

(NSFW) A Helping Hand (Lucanis x Reader x Spite)

Tags and Warnings: NSFW, Dub-con (sort of. It's complicated), Choking, Possession, Soft!Lucanis, Possessive!Spite

Summary: Reader is into the rougher stuff, but Lucanis isn't. Spite feels like it's his responsibility to help out.

(Smut under the cut)

He was a vision like this. His breathing was still a bit labored, and his cheeks were ever so slightly flushed. You watched as his chest moved up and down while he caught his breath. You absentmindedly trailed your hand over the path of dark hair that started at his chest and ended at his spent cock that was still glistening with your combined fluids.

He watched you with a content half-lidded gaze. His hand was gently tracing patterns over your collarbone as he let his eyes rove over you. He suddenly paused and his eyes lingered on your hip. His eyebrows knitted together in a worried expression. Your eyes followed his hand when it went to gently trace some faint bruises on your hip.

“When did this happen?” he asked softly.

“Hm?” you said and looked at it. “Oh. Don’t worry about.”

Lucanis had strong hands, and you had overly dramatic skin. It was bound to happen that you would get a few bruises while you were both lost in pleasure. You didn’t mind in the least, in fact you rather liked it, as you had often pointed out to him. He did not feel the same way.

He tutted softly and moved down to place a kiss on each of the five bruises that marked where he had dug his fingers into your hips. You smiled.

“I am so sorry,” he said and looked up at you.

“Lucanis, you need to stop,” you said with a chuckle. “It’s fine. I seriously don’t mind it.”

He moved up a bit so that he was laying on top of you, careful not to touch the ‘terrible injury’ he had caused you. He placed a kiss between your breasts.

“I mind,” he said. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

You smiled and ran your fingers through his hair, which earned you a small content sound that rumbled through his chest.

“Seriously,” you said. “You know I don’t have a problem with it. In fact, I wouldn’t mind if you were rougher with me in general. I can take it. I like it.”

He gave a small dramatic groan and leaned his forehead against your chest. You had had this conversation before.

“Yes. You like the hair pulling and the choking,” he said with a small frown as if the concept was either confusing or distasteful to him. “It’s not love, my love. I don’t get it. Why would I want to hurt you?”

“It’s not really about that,” you tried to explain once again. “The point isn’t to want to hurt the other person, it’s— well…I mean…It’s difficult to explain. Pain heightens the other feelings, you know?”

He shook his head.

“No. I don’t know,” he said with a faint smile, clearly teasing you a little bit.

“You like it when I tug on your hair,” you countered. “And when I dig my nails into your back.”

“That is different,” he said. “You can hurt me as much as you want to. Until I’m blue and purple all over.”

You sighed in defeat. He smiled and kissed your lips, before moving to lay beside you. He moved his arm in an invitation for you to lay your head on his chest. You did, and he rested his cheek against the top of your head.

“I’m sorry, love,” he mumbled into your hair. “I can’t do it.”

You smiled. You would never pressure him into anything he didn’t want to do. It was also sweet, in a way, how he was so against the idea of causing you any discomfort.

“It’s fine,” you said and placed a soft kiss on his chest. “Don’t worry about.”

He kissed the top of your head and shortly after you both fell asleep.

Lucanis always got up at an ungodly hour in the morning, but normally he always managed to sneak out of bed without waking you. This time was different. You stirred awake when you felt a hand move over your bare hip. He was pressed up against your back, and you could feel his erection against your ass.

You forced your eyes open a little bit. The sun had not even risen yet. It was pitch dark in your bedroom. You gave a small groan of discontent at being woken up at this hour. This wasn’t like him.

However, your tired body was already reacting to his touches. He had that effect on you. His hand pushed your hip a little forward, and he started kneading your ass. You could feel that familiar stir of arousal growing in your stomach.

He flipped you over onto your stomach, which wasn’t at all like him either. Usually, he always wanted to see your face. You felt yourself wake up a little more. You didn’t protest though. You thought that perhaps he had simply decided to try something else, like you had spoken about the night before. You were intrigued.

He straddled the back of your thighs. His hands went to you ass again, kneading your cheeks, pulling them apart. The feeling of your holes being exposed to the air felt delicious and made you even wetter. Your pussy was starting to make a sinful wet noises as he played with your ass and spread you open.

He was being surprisingly quiet though, you noticed. Usually, he gave you sweet and praising comments while he touched you, but this time he was dead quiet. Even his breathing was different. As if he was truly concentrated on the task of playing with your ass or just fascinated. It was a bit odd, but you didn’t comment.

You needed more. You arched your back against his hands to see if he would get the hint. His hands paused their movements for a moment. You heard a deep, almost purring sound come from him, before his fingers found your slit. You let out a soft moan as he ran his fingers over your wetness.

He didn’t linger long before he stuffed two fingers inside of you. You let out a startled sound before it turned into a moan. He started moving his fingers, slowly, but deep. You moved your hands down to spread yourself more open for him, but he caught your hands in one quick movement and held them behind your back.

Your eyes widened slightly. This was intriguing, indeed. His grip was firm. You were at his mercy. He started moving his fingers faster, seemingly intrigued by the sounds that were coming out of your mouth. He added a third finger and started fingering you at an almost punishing pace.

It almost hurt, but it hurt so good. You bit into the pillow not to scream. The wet sounds coming from his fingers continuously plunging into your pussy were almost embarrassing. You were dripping. You instinctively squirmed at all the sensations but there was no where to go. Your hands were held behind your back, and he was sitting on your legs.

After a long while, he abruptly pulled his fingers out of you. Your whole body was on fire, and you were shaking slightly. He didn’t let go of your hands. You felt him move over your legs. You felt him rub the head of his cock up and down over your slit before slowly sinking into you. You moaned and arched your back for him, needing him as deep inside you as possible. He let out a sound that sounded like a deep growl as he bottomed out.

His free hand found your hip and held you firmly against him as he slowly started moving inside you. He gave you a few moments to adjust to the sensation before he leaned over your back. He shoved one arm under you and the other loosely around your neck. He held you completely up against him as he started moving faster.

It didn’t take long before his hips were snapping against you to a point where you found it hard to breathe from just how good it felt. He had never taken you like this, and it was slowly making your brain turn into mush. One of his hands found its way around your neck. The grip was firm enough to make you gasp slightly, but not enough to hurt. You were beginning to see stars.

The noises he was making was about to send you over the edge in itself. He was practically growling into your ear. Your ears were filled with his harsh, almost feral sounds as he pounded you into the mattress. You let out a pathetic whimper as he bit into your shoulder. It was hard enough that it would definitely leave a mark. His hot tongue licked over it after.

“Lucanis, I…” you managed to breathe out before another moan ate up your words.

He flipped you over to lay on your back. He shoved his cock inside you again and moved his head down to your chest to suck and lick at your tits with a feral intensity. Your eyes fluttered shut. You were so close. He bit into the soft flesh of your tits, leaving a trail of marks up your chest and neck too. He dug his fingers into your cheeks and then shoved his tongue inside your mouth.

You were so so so very close.

When he let go of the kiss, you opened your eyes to look at him. Your eyes widened and you squirmed as you saw two glowing purple eyes stare back at you.

“Spite—”

You didn’t get to protest before he clasped a hand over your mouth.

“Keep mouth shut,” Spite hissed. “Lucanis. Won’t. Know…”

You squirmed, trying to grab him or stop the situation in some way. Your resolve disappeared when he moved his other hand down to your clit. He was playing dirty. It felt too good. He rubbed circles around your clit as he kept fucking you.

“He cares too MUCH,” Spite growled and thrusted into you harder, determined to push you over the edge. “Won’t give you…what you need. You. Need to stay. With him.”

You fell over that edge hard. You practically screamed into his hand and then you saw stars. Lucanis, or, well, Spite, came inside you seconds after. You were both breathing hard. The post-orgasm clarity was setting in quick. What the fuck had you just done? He pulled out and sat down beside you in the bed.

“Shhh,” he hushed before removing his hand from your mouth.

“Spite, what the fuck,” you said sharply in a hushed tone. “Never do that again.”

He looked almost confused at your reaction.

“Never leave,” he countered in the same tone as you.

“I wasn’t going to,” you said. “I would never…”

You realized what all of this most likely had been about. Spite had felt some sort of insecurity from Lucanis and acted on it, afraid that you would leave. Spite narrowed his eyes at you and looked over your face skeptically.

“Hmm,”he growled in a frustrated tone. “We keep this. Secret.”

You shook your head.

“Nooo,” you said sharply. “We don’t. We can’t do that to him. This was messed up, Spite. Despite your good intentions. We come clean.”

He let out another frustrated hum. He looked at you out of the corner of his eye with a slight frown. You sighed and covered yourself up a bit. You were all over the place and your legs were still shaking a bit.

“Ours,” Spite said. “You. Will. Never. Leave us...Never. Leave. Him…Promise!”

“I promise, Spite,” you said with a sigh. “But you will never do this again, understand? Not without Lucanis’ consent at least...”

A small devious smile spread on his when you made your last comment. You only realized what you had said when you saw his reaction. You shook your head.

“IF he would even consent,” you said in a hushed tone. “I sure as hell won’t bring it up to him.”

“Yes. Fun…” Spite purred.

“Watch it,” you warned with a raised finger.

He put his frown back on and gave you a nod. He looked just about as apologetic as a demon were capable of looking. He seemed aware that he had done something wrong, which was an odd expression on him.

“We. Love you…” Spite said and looked up at you.

You rolled your eyes at his attempt to get out of this, but it was hard not to smile at the surprisingly genuine attempt. You sighed.

“Just let me speak to Lucanis, please,” you said with a sigh and braced yourself.

[ashprince-of-bel-air]

A Touch Of Spite

Part one: Night of Spite

Not going to lie, this is just pure smut 🤷‍♀️ Spite's dialogue is all in capitals just so I can differentiate from Lucanis

Warning: dubious consent as Spite "takes over" at one point.

The kiss between you both had deepened, Lucanis pressing his body against yours against the hard stone wall, his knee still pressed between your legs pinning you to the wall as you tried desperately not to grind against it, feeling the heat rise inside your body from the kiss.

Lucanis slipped his hands underneath the thin cotton of your night shirt, the feeling of his rough calloused hands was like heaven as they groped over the hourglass of your waist. Gripping you gently and moving his plump lips down over to your swan like neck, Lucanis began to move you over to his bed in the corner of the room, walking you backwards until your legs hit the bed frame, causing you to fall back onto the bed with him now on top of you, pressing you into the mattress as his lips caressed your neck and collarbone.

The kiss began to become more passionate, both of you becoming greedier for each other as the seconds pass. The more the kiss went on the more Lucanis lost himself in it, not giving a single thought to Spite, his mind elsewhere not focusing on why he was being so quiet for once. Spite was biding his time, chuckling silently to himself, waiting for Lucanis to drop his guard completely so he could take over. Ever since Spite had laid eyes on you he wanted you, to feel you in his hands,to love you to taste you. It infuriated him to know that Lucanis could have you and he never would, he would often shout in the back of Lucanis' mind when he held back from you, YOU COWARD! IF YOU CAN'T BE MAN ENOUGH I WILL! IT'S NOT FAIR!

As the reverent kisses were placed passionately on your neck you felt one of Lucanis' hands tangle into your hair, grabbing a fistfull of it and pulling your head back roughly, baring even more of your neck and chest to him, his kisses were starting to become more aggressive nipping, biting and leaving marks causing you to let out a deep throaty moan that vibrated in your chest against his lips, loving this rougher side to him and craving more of it. You were both lost in the moment now hastily removing each others clothes Lucanis practically ripping yours from you body, desperate to see all of your skin.

You were so caught up in the moment, your eyes were closed so that you could enjoy the rest of what your senses had to offer, you hadn't even noticed the purple glint in his eyes that took hold moments ago or the low rumble of a chuckle under his breath as he marked your skin as his. Spite knew that Lucanis would take control again soon, he could feel him battling his way back for control, but for now he wanted to leave reminders of himself on you, ones he could look at over the next few days, proof that he had finally tasted you even if you couldn't see him.

Spite used Lucanis' lips to kiss his way back up to your neck, bitting roughly on your ear lobe, causing you to moan Lucanis' name which made him chuckle into your ear, OH HE'S NOT HERE DARLING, he whispered raking his teeth against your skin HE'LL BE BACK SOON BUT IT'S ONLY FAIR I GET TO HAVE SOME FUN TOO, lust dripping from his lips.

You opened your eyes confused until you saw the purple glow, you were too worked up to fight back, too turned on by his actions to argue, after all it didn't seem like he wanted to hurt you, before you began to speak he silenced you with a rough kiss, UNTIL NEXT TIME MY LOVE, a wicked smile took hold on his face until the purple glow finally left Lucanis' eyes, the fight between the two of them having ceased for now.

Lucanis shook his head making sure Spite was finally gone, he looked down at you to make sure you were unharmed, looking at all the love marks Spite used his lips and teeth to make. Before Lucanis could even form an apology you grabbed his face and kissed him passionately pulling him closer to you, pressing your body towards him with even more passion than before, knowing it was truly him again, this kiss letting him know you wanted him still, infact you wanted him more now that Spite had warmed you up for him.

"Rook...." Lucanis whispered against your lips, he was now powerless against your need, the fact you still wanted him despite his demon baffled him, especially after what Spite used his body to do. A small moan left your lips, your breath hot upon his as he heard that delicious noise you made, now desperate himself to elicit more of them from your lips. He wanted Spite to see that he could please you more than he ever could, aware of Spites presence in the back of his mind, angry that he didn't get enough time with you and now you were moaning like this for Lucanis! SHE'S MINE! ROOK IS MINE!

Spites anger and jealousy only made him too weak to take over Lucanis again, a fact Lucanis was thankful for as now he could finally enjoy this moment with you. Lucanis slipped his hand down beneath your legs, feeling the wetness there he smiled against your lips, chuckling at how eager you were for him now. "My darling... So impatient aren't we" the words rolled of his tongue with ease, his deep voice like silk. Lucanis took only a moment to tease you, gently caressing your clit before you began to beg and whimper before him, wanting him to desperately bring you relief.

He removed his fingers from your wet folds and stuck them into his mouth, sucking his fingers clean and savouring the taste of you, one to satisfy his own needs for you but to also punish Spite and weaken his attack to take over again, his jealousy making his resolve erratic and weak. After savouring the taste of you he pressed his length into you slowly, relishing the feeling of himself stretching you to fit him, a soft whimper escaping his lips as he felt your tight walls squeezing around him already.

His pace was slow and gentle at first, wanting to savour the moment, he had been locked away in the Ossury for what felt like an age, he wanted to savour this moment with you, to once again enjoy the pleasures of a mortal life. You sighed beneath him, pleasure building in your body now with every one of his strokes, your nails digging into his back now, creating scratch marks that Lucanis would wear with honour.

As Lucanis could feel his own orgasm looming he began to thrust more erratically, desperate to bring you both to climax as soon as he could, feeling Spite shouting in the back of his mind again YOU CAN'T PLEASE HER! I WANT HER! Spite was seething but it only spurred Lucanis on, he was determined that this moment would only be between him and you.

It did not take long until Lucanis brought you to climax, pleasure radiating over your body, feeling warm and sighing breathlessly beneath Lucanis' body that was now slick with sweat. It only took a few more strokes before Lucanis reached his own climax, grunting in your ear as he spilled into you, his body now collapsing onto your own, your ragged breaths hot against each others skin.

Lucanis had now buried his face into your neck, kissing softly, ignoring the vituperative rant from Spite, babbling angry jealous nonsense in his head that he couldn't even make sense of if he tried. You laid there stroking Lucanis' hair that was now oily from sweat, your other hand tracing gentle circles with your fingertips on his back as he whispered against your skin causing you to shiver and chuckle.

"You like to walk a little too close to the edge don't you Rook?" Lucanis began to leave a barrage of soft kisses against your neck, enjoying the tender moment between the two of you for now, ignoring the outside world for just a moment.

[asirensrage]

You're on the spite path, I see. Good, good. “still hate me?” “definitely” “just as much?” “hmm…maybe * pinches fingers* a little less” for any ship you want, then? :-D

You know me, I just can't help myself. Someone tells me to delete my account and to stop writing smut...well, that just tells me to be more active and write more 😉 Thanks for indulging me!

Rating: Explicit. Notes: M/F pairing. No names or descriptions. Imagine whoever you want. Bit of enemies to lovers...sort of.

Warnings: semi-public sex. Wall sex. Hate sex. swearing.

Her back hits the wall but he chases her lips, pressing forward until there’s no chance of space between them. They shouldn’t be doing this but something broke and now all she can think of is the way he’s touching her and how his lips feel against her. He tastes like the beer he had been drinking before they snapped. 

His mouth moves from hers, leaving warm, wet kisses down the side of her throat while his hand slips up her thigh under her skirt. He grabs her, moving her to hook her leg around his hips as he grounds further into her. She tries not to cry out at the feeling. 

“Shhh..” he murmurs. His fingers dig into the soft curve of her ass. “You’re too fucking loud.”

“And you’re taking too long,” she hisses back. She digs her nails into his shoulder before trying to pull him in closer with her leg. He laughs against her skin before he kisses her again. She bites at his lip but he only groans into her mouth and rocks against her in response. 

There are voices down the hall but neither of them stop. They’re tucked into a dark corner, past the kitchen near one of the storerooms. Somewhere that’s barely used considering no one’s found them yet. 

She nips at his jaw, sucking a mark into the skin at the base of his neck. She knows he’ll explain it away, or tell them the truth but the truth is the last thing their friends would believe. He sets her down and she can’t help the sound that escapes at the loss of his warmth but then his fingers slide up her thighs. They hook into the band of her underwear and slide them down.

She holds onto his shoulder to step out of them, her gaze flickering down the hall where the noise of the bar echoes from. She thinks she catches him pocketing them but it doesn’t matter right now. She’ll get them back later. All she needs now is him touching her again before she decides this isn’t worth her time. 

He presses her back against the wall, hand moving under her leg, guiding her to wrap it back around him. He kisses her again, hard and demanding, as though she’ll give in. She kisses back just as hard, refusing to give in. 

It takes a moment of adjustment, where he fumbles and slides his pants down just enough to be free of them. Then he’s shifting her slightly higher, holding her up with an arm around her waist while she clings to his shoulders. 

Her head falls back against the wall when he finally, finally, presses in. The stretch burns in the best way and all she can think about is how he’s holding her in place, mouth on her neck. She doesn’t hear what he’s muttering but it doesn’t matter as long as he moves. She tries to rock against him, triggering a response. 

His grip tightens. “Always so fucking impatient,” he says. “Stay quiet, unless you want to give them a show.”

“Ha,” she scoffs at him. “Like that will take any effort.” 

He takes the challenge for what it is. He bites at her collarbone gently before kissing it and finally moving how she wants him to. 

She has to hold on to him, legs wrapping around his waist as he thrusts into her. “Shit.” 

He laughs but it fades as he focuses on moving. She leans forward, burying her face in his neck and he pulls back before thrusting up again. His pace quickens, holding her tightly as he moves her against him with ease. She bites at his neck, trying to stifle the moans that keep slipping out. 

“Fuck,” he swears, groaning as his grip tightens. “So fucking good.”

“Don’t stop,” she breathes. “Please.” Her back hits the wall again but she barely feels it,  too lost in the way he kisses her, trying to swallow her sounds. It feels as if he’s going to consume her. She breaks the kiss, digging a hand into his hand and yanking. 

He hisses but the next movement has her nearly seeing stars when he adjusts her position. “You’re going to feel me,” he promises, sounding as breathless as she feels. “For days.”

“I barely feel you now,” she snaps back. It’s a lie, of course. One that comes naturally to her, at least responding to him. 

“Liar,” he grunts. 

She doesn’t dignify that with a response, biting down on her own lip to keep herself from crying out. She loses herself in the feeling. The calluses on his hands against the soft skin of her thighs and ass. The way he’s thrusting into her, leading her closer to the edge of an orgasm that threatens to make her cry out and draw attention to them. She clings to him tightly, letting him take control of the movements as she covers her mouth with a hand, trying to stay silent. 

Her orgasm takes her by surprise and it’s only the fact that he’s pinning her against the wall that keeps her upright. His pace speeds up, turning rougher and drawing it out. It leaves her breathless. It’s only when he finally breaks, following her into that level of bliss, that he slows down. He came inside her. She mentally thanks the higher powers that she’s already on birth control because the last thing she’d ever want would be to be tied to him like that. 

He doesn’t let go right away. He presses his body against hers, holding them both up against the wall. She brushes his hair back without thinking and his head lifts, eyes meeting hers. 

Her breath catches in her throat at the expression there. 

“Still hate me?” he asks quietly. 

She swallows tightly. “Definitely.” 

He laughs lightly, sounding like he doesn’t quite believe her. She’s not sure she believes herself. “Just as much?” 

“Hmm…maybe,” she lifts a hand and pinches her fingers together. “A little less.”

He grins at her and she suddenly realizes she needs to leave. She needs to be anywhere but here. 

“Let me down,” she says. She tries not to wince at the loss of him as he pulls out and sets her down. Her legs nearly give out on her and he looks like he’s going to reach for her but she catches herself on the wall. 

“Told you you’d feel me,” he says smugly. 

She scowls back. “Fuck off.”

“We just did.” 

She rolls her eyes, aware that his eyes are on her as she finally works to fix her outfit. Her nose scrunches up at the feeling of their mutual release sliding down her thigh. She holds out her hand. “Give me back my underwear.” 

“What underwear?” He asks, grinning as she gives him an unamused look. “Mine now. You want them, you’ll have to come get them.” He winks at her before walking off. 

“You motherfucker!” She has a feeling she knows what the asshole wants too. “Ugh.” Whatever. She slinks out of the hallway and heads for the bathroom, forcing herself to not look around to see where he went. He wants his stupid prize, he can keep them. It’s not like she can’t buy more. Still…that doesn’t stop her from plotting revenge.

let’s do some prompts and drabbles!

[multi-fandom-imagine]

I have a naughty thought floating in my head.

Just imagine when you and Lucanis are doing 'adult' activities when his control over Spite slips and Spite takes over.

Your normally gentle lover is suddenly rough and groping at your plush thighs and tits. He's whispering filthy things in your ear about how he always has to watch, but now it's his turn.

Just a filthy thought in my head.

A/N: YOU LET THAT THOUGHT RUN FREE AND GIVE ME MORE.

Lucanis does it best to control Spite during the times whenever you two become intimate.

He knew you control himself, you did take down a god after all.

But he knew it would happen sooner or later even though he wished it would be much later. Lucanis knew of Spites desires for you, feelings....if things like him could even feel that way.

Lucanis knew he should have been more careful, should have drank more coffee since this was your anniversary after all but all it took was one moment, one small lite crack that Spite could slip through as the man made love to you.

A cry leaving left your lips, your hands pinned above your head as Spite gripped your lips tightly. Hips snapping into yours, leg hiked upon his waist as he roughly fucked you. He couldn't get enough, he wanted more.

More...more...more!

Your skin soft, he had to memorize this, memorize every inch of your skin, every blemish, every scare, he will remember.

"Sitting back...watching. No more! No more." Spite whispered in your ears as he hiked up your thigh more, slipping deeper in your warmth, your walls squeezing so deliciously around his shaft.

Giving your plush thighs a squeeze, his hands moved up your chest giving your breasts a squeeze as he let his thumb rub your nipple.

"Mine! Mine!" Spite muttered as he continued his thrusts. "I will fill you! Breed you! Make you mine."

Biting your lip, you let out another cry as you did your best to match his thrusts. Moans spilling from your lips, bed creaking, your mind in a fog.

It felt good, too good and in the back of your mind you were thinking of ways to convince Lucanis to share you with the spirit.

But right now you were going to enjoy this.

[conchcronch]

My Turn

WC: 2816

Pairing: Spite x Fem!Rook

Summary: Lucanis accidentally fell asleep which leads Spite to take over when you come to spend the evening together.

Warnings: a little bit DUB CON but it gets cleared up towards the end.

A/N: PLEASE send me prompts for Lucanis and Spite x Rook, I’m obsessed.

The lack of a moon and stars in the Fade had unsettled you since your first night at the Lighthouse. The sky was lit as though there were some sort of light source but you could never find one as you walked from the main building out to the farthest room at the end of the courtyard. What had originally been your dining hall had been taken over by the Crow, feeling most at comfort in the dank pantry, not something you could fully understand but you also had no intention of questioning it more then you already had.

The door was unlocked, the fire lit in between the two wolf statues. Your partner was not leaning against the mantle as you had expected, but the flickering of candles through the pantry/bedroom door quickly hinted at where he likely was. You noticed freshly brewed coffee, two mugs set out, anticipating your arrival. You cleared the distance from the door to the counter in the small, dark kitchen. Taking your time prepping the coffee, leaving his black so he could taste the flavor notes of this particular blend, but pouring a decent amount of milk in your mug, the thought of leaving yours black made you grimace.

With mugs of coffee in hand you walked past the fireplace, the warmth wrapping around your legs making the cold of the back bedroom all the more jarring. His back was to you, the candle light flickering, distorting his shadow as it danced across the wall. “I brought you coffee, it might be a little cold, but I can warm it up if you want.” You took a quick sip of yours as you held his outstretched, his back still to you.

“Not now” a wave of his hand made you cock an eyebrow but put the mug down on a small shelf nevertheless. You leaned your back against the sturdy oak shelving, sipping your coffee as you tried to output enough fire magic from your palm to warm the ceramic mug rather then ignite it. The silence stretched on, but it wasn’t uncomfortable despite being slightly out of character for him. Ever since the blighted dragon attacked Tarviso he had been different, the sight of such a beast in a town that he and his family were fighting so hard to save must have proved to him just how delicate it really was.

His weight shifted from foot to foot, his hand under his chin, toying with his beard as he so often did when deep in thought. “Neve is still gone” the silence had stretched on much too long for your liking, your anxiety gnawing at you as you watched him. You were hoping he’d reassure you, tell you you had no choice but to make the impossible call, to thank you for choosing his city over her’s. But instead he just stood there, silent, unmoving. “I’m worried she might not come back, Bellara says she will, but honestly I’m not sure I would if I were her.” You tipped your head further back, the last mouthful of coffee warming your throat as you put your mug on the shelf next to his. “Lucanis,” He didn’t budge at the use of his name, his shoulders barely even moving as he breathed. You stepped closer to him, your hand out in front of you to touch his shoulder. “If now’s not a good time I ca-“ He felt cooler to the touch, even through the layers of his shirt and vest, it was as though his body was giving off no heat.

“Smells like waterlily.” The voice was his, but not entirely. His accent was present but the pitch off, the tone heightened. You tensed, preparing yourself for whatever was to come next. Finally the body of your partner turned, his eyes glowing purple as you’ve seen only a handful of times before.

“Spite” The name feels sharp in your mouth, your tone giving away your hesitation. He leaned forward, sniffing you closer and you remained glued in place. He stepped forward, close enough you could wrap your arms around him if you really wanted to. You can feel his breath on your neck as he inhaled your scent deeply, his face was so close to your skin you swear you could feel his lips against you for the briefest of seconds.

“You came to us for pleasure” You felt your face flush, of course it wasn’t your only intention, but you certainly weren’t going to turn it down if one thing led to another, but your relationship was still fairly new, and despite your longing for a physical component you weren’t intending to push those boundaries. But for your desires to be so bluntly outed there was a wave of embarrassment that washed over you.

“Let me talk to Lucanis.” You stepped back, crossing your arms over your chest but not missing the way the demon’s purple eyes dragged down your form.

“It’s my turn with you.” You couldn't deny how impressed you were at Spite’s fairly calm demeanor, after listening to many of Lucanis’ one sided conversations with the demon you had expected him to be bordering on feral when speaking directly to him.

”Spite, I want to talk to Lucanis.” You added a bit more force to your tone, hoping the demon would grow tired of your insistence and go back to wherever it is he resides when Lucanis is in control. But when you felt hands on your hips, tugging you against the body you so desperately craved it took you a beat before you were struggling against the grip.

His lips were on your neck, lapping more than kissing. Groaning as he did so, every lick finishing with a gravelly moan, his hips rutting against your side as his hands balled the cotton of your shirt. “sp-pite- fuck” You tried to convince yourself to push away from him, but your longing for the Crow was fogging your brain. You could feel your core pulse, his tongue working wonders along your sensitive neck and the slightly distorted moans were making it difficult to resist.

“Spite” You tried to say but it ended up coming out as a whine rather than a demand, receiving what could only be referred to as a purr instead of a hum.

“Can smell how wet you are, Rook” The way he purred your name forced you to swallow a moan. Before you were able to even notice him walking you backwards, your back was against the stone wall of his makeshift bedroom. His fingers trying to unbutton the top clasp of your navy casual shirt, bought from a Crow vendor Lucanis had brought you to not that long ago. His patience lasted about as long as it took you to blink before he ripped the garment open, buttons falling to the ground around your feet.

Before you could chastise him about the now ruined shirt, the words died in your throat the moment his hands were on your bare waist. His blunt, well manicured nails dug into your skin, as he pressed your body against the wall, his lips finally on yours.

This wasn’t the first kiss you and Lucanis would have shared, but it certainly was the most heated. Every kiss with Lucanis had stopped before it went anywhere, his lips pulling away as soon as you tried to deepen it, never giving a reason but always retreating afterwards. But the way Spite kissed you, the way his tongue invaded your mouth, marking what you knew he’d refer to as his territory. You were trapped between him and the wall, his hands slipped down from your waist until he could roughly grab your ass, keeping your hips against his as he rutted against you, moans and grunts flowing from his mouth every time it wasn’t covered by your own lips.

“Had to…” He spoke into your mouth, his words fading as though he forgot he was even speaking “had to watch him. Watch him kiss you. Terribly.”

“Spite” you tried to sound as though his sentence offended, but it ended up coming out far more breathy than intended.

“Could smell you. Can always smell you. I always tell him. Tell him you want this. But he never listens to me.” He’s back to your neck, lapping at your skin, dragging his tongue down to your collarbones, his hands kneading the fat of your ass.

”Spite, I think- ah- I think it’s Lucanis’ turn.” Spite laughed against you, biting at your collar hard enough you weren’t sure if he had drawn blood or not.

“He’ll stop.” His mouth sank lower, nipping at the tops of your breast, “I know you don’t want to stop. Can smell it.”

“Spite, please.” Reluctantly he pulled away from your chest, your eyes meeting his glowing purple sockets, and somehow you could have sworn you saw his expression soften for a fraction of a second. You reached forward, cupping his cheek as you had done countless times to Lucanis, hoping the demon found the same comfort in it that the Crow did. He pressed his cheek into your palm,

“Will I get. Another turn?” You couldn’t resist nodding, finding yourself thinking how cute he was, despite the fact he was still pressing you against a wall and had torn your shirt in two.

You watched the demon blink, his purple eyes closing and reopening with black pupils, brows furrowed in confusion as he stared into your eyes, blinking a few times as though he was trying to clear sleep from his vision. Lucanis’ breath quickened, immediately trying to assess the situation that he had just woken up in. “Did he hurt you?!” His tone was dripping in anxiety as he stepped away from you, your hand falling from his cheek as he hurriedly looked around.

His eyes moved down your body then back up, pausing before repeating the same thing, slower this time. The tips of his ears burned red as he realized what had happened as he unknowingly slept. “Mierda” He looked down at the buttons that lay around your feet.

It was impossible to not notice how he was straining against his slacks, his eyes everywhere but your gaze. “I-I sho- I should go” You wanted to stop him, grab him by the wrist before he was out of reach, but your mind was still foggy with lust and craving more of what Spite had been giving you, but this time you wanted to feel Lucanis’ lips against you.

You stood there for what felt like an hour but you knew it couldn’t have been that long, leaning back against the wall behind you, hoping the cool stone would help clear your thoughts and bring back some reason.

By the time you went to go find the Crow, the sky surrounding the Lighthouse had shifted to black, the pieces of debris still floating around the buildings as though it were as normal as clouds in the sky. As you climbed the rickety stairs that led to the top of the dining hall you glanced around the courtyard, trying to see if any of your companions were out. You expected to see Emmrick on the balcony of the main house where he so often went at night, taking note of the ethers in the Fade. But tonight there wasn’t a soul outside apart from you, Lucanis and Spite.

He stood at the far side of the roof, bent over the railing, his head hung down so his forehead was resting against his arm. No matter how quietly you approached him, he always knew you were there. You could tell he knew by the way his body stiffened, his shoulders tensing and his head moving so he was looking out over the courtyard.

He needed time, time to figure out what had just happened, how far things had gone, time for his unexpected erection to go away, and time away from your intoxicating scent. But of course you were coming up the wooden steps not long after him.

He tried to pull himself together, locking his eyes on the back of the wolf statue in the middle of the courtyard, the cool ‘night’ air was the only thing that was keeping his cheeks from turning pink again. You stood beside him silently, leaning over the edge of the building, taking in the view of the Lighthouse.

You could feel how uncertain he was, his hands clenched the railing, his posture even straighter than normal as he pretended like he was taking in the sights just as you were. The breeze reminded you of your open shirt, which you tried to hold close with one hand while the other pushed through your bangs in an attempt to ease your uncertainty. “I’m not sure what to say.” You laughed awkwardly, desperate to break the silence that stretched between the two of you.

“Then why say anything.”

“Because I’m worried if I don’t start talking, you might never speak to me again.” You hazarded a look at him from the corner of your eye, hoping to gauge his reaction to some extent, but it remained stoic.

The silence stretched on until the sky darkened even more, the colour the same shade of blue as the Crows’ armor when you first laid eyes on him. You fidgeted anxiously, changing positions over and over again as the time passed, until you had your back to the railing, head up looking for any kind of star above you. “I should have been more careful.” It almost sounded like the words were meant for himself rather than you, as though he were reprimanding himself.

“Why?”

“He could have hurt you…I…I could have hurt you.” You couldn’t stop the little scoff that slipped out, turning to look at him with a smile across your lips, meeting his eyes for the first time since Spite had relinquished control. “Is now really the time to laugh?”

“If you think I couldn’t take you in a fight, you’re sorely mistaken, Crow.” You watched his eyebrow raise, the corner of his mouth following, but only slightly.

“Are you trying to change the subject?”

“I don’t know,” You sidestepped, bringing your shoulders closer so you could nudge against him “Why, is it working?”

“This is serious, Rook.” He turned to face you, his hand on his hip as he shifted his weight. “I let my guard down, and you…he forced himself on you.”

“That’s the thing,” You stood up straight, turning to look at him fully while you rubbed at the back of your neck, knowing that the next thing out of your mouth had the potential to end your relationship before it had really started. “He didn’t force himself on me, he more…initiated it, I guess.” You watched his eyes narrow, his brow furrowing as he tried to piece together what you were saying. “I could have pushed him away if I wanted to.”

“But you didn’t?” There was an underlying disgust in his voice, as though the thought of being with him was so vile he couldn’t even pretend to understand.

“I didn’t.” The silence left as heavy as the weight of the world that seemed to live on your shoulders. He broke what little eye contact you had held, shifting his weight as he put more of his weight on the railing, his hair slipping from behind his ear.

“Why didn’t you?” His voice was quiet, if there had been even a bit of a breeze, you may have missed his question all together.

“Because I wanted it.” You watched his hands clenched into fists, his jaw tightening so you could see his teeth grind. “But I wanted it from you.”

“From me?” You couldn’t stop the small laugh that slipped from your lips at his clearly, surprised tone.

”Lucanis,” You leaned against the small wall, one hand on the railing the other perched on your hip. “This can’t possibly come as a surprise.” He looked over at you, cheeks just a hint of pink.

“I just- I didn’t know you wanted…that.” He dropped his eyes again but not before dragging along the sliver of bare skin he could see between the seams of your torn shirt.

And to think he had touched you, kissed you, dragged his hands down your bare skin, and didn’t get to enjoy even an ounce of it.

“Consider this your formal announcement that, Lucanis-“ You stepped closer to him, waiting a beat before he too straightened, turning to face you so you could press your forehead to his. “I desperately want exactly what Spite was doing. But I want to try it with you.” The only response you received was a low hum that you felt rubble from his chest and into yours as he grabbed your waist and tugged you against him.

[beetlethebug]

consider,,,a lucanis who is in love with emmrich, a spite who is in love with rook, a rook in love with emmrich, and emmrich who is in love with all three but wants lucanis, spite, and rook to get together because he feels he is not the type of man any of them deserve...

bonus points for spite being the one to realize just what sort of love quadrilateral is going on and is the one to get them all together.

[earthfire-75]

Demons have needs too

Genre: Dragon Age Veilguard

Pairing: Lucanis Dellamorte x Rook de Riva, Spite x Rook , Spite!Lucanis, female!Rook, Named Rook, otherwise, non descript

Warnings: smut, just smut PWP , knife play?, no blood, demon possession, dub-con

Notes: purple italics are Spite's thoughts/speaking

Wherein we wonder if Spite isn't actually a Desire demon...

Luna sighed and dragged herself out of bed. Heading into the kitchen, she found Lucanus’ coffee maker next to the stove. She smiled to herself, making herself a cup and a fried egg sandwich for breakfast, then she would head to the training room, where she would also likely find Lucanis. She leaned against the doorway as she watched him, jumping a little when he spoke without looking at her.

“You are improving, my friend. I almost did not hear you.”

Friend? Not friend. Want!

She hid the sadness she felt at his use of friend. She desires so much more than his friendship, had since the last time they had seen each other. But she had only been a teenager then. Now, seeing him again, she knows what she feels isn't infatuation. There is a sexual tension that comes with their sparring, however, and she needs to be careful. She's certain Lucanis Dellamorte is neither ready for any sort of romance yet, nor interested in her that way to begin with.

“Almost only counts in playing horseshoes,” she teased.

“And hand grenades. Or so I ‘ve heard.”

Lucanis turned around, finally facing the girl…no, woman…entertaining the training room. He remembers the teenager he last met years ago. She was beautiful then, but now? Now she made his heart race and his cock twitch, for Makers sake. Now he both looked forward to and dreaded their sparring. The sexual tension it brought…he wanted to …do things to her...

Fuck her, the demon supplied in a whisper. Make her ours! Spite breathed in deep. Smells like…lavender dipped in honey.

Lucanis, for his part, does his best to ignore the demon, giving Luna a smile that's meant to be reassuring as he withdraws his daggers from their sheaths. “Ready for our sparring session, my Moon?” It's a slip, one he deliberately does not acknowledge, in hopes that she missed it. But of course she does not. Still, Luna says nothing, refusing to believe he meant it in the way her heart wishes he did.

* *

He had her pinned against the wall, hands above her head, his dagger pressed firmly against the hollow of her throat. His eyes were ablaze with something she dare not name and something more sinister as he started her down.

Fuck her! The demon was worked up now, more difficult to ignore.

Pretty. Pretty tits, pretty pussy.

Never kissed, never touched

Wants, needs, aches. Aches for us!

The demon tightens their grip on Luna’s wrists. Their eyes drop to her breasts, sliding the blade from her throat down to the first button of her shirt.

We want, we need.

Throb, pulse, ache. Ache for her!

“Lucanis?”

A deep growl - Take, claim, taste, fuck!

Ours! All ours! Fuck her or we will!

At the first sign of hesitation, Spite growls in frustration, shoving Lucanis' consciousness to the side, but not down. The demon wanted its host to remember this.

“We want to see those pretty tits.” The voice that came out of Lucanis was not entirely his own and Luna swallowed around something stuck in her throat as the hand holding his dagger flicked, sending the first button flying. The second and third aren't far behind as Luna's breasts rise and fall heavily.

“Pretty Moon. We won’t hurt you. Well, maybe a little, but we think you'll like.,” the demon spoke as it continued to flick away at the remaining buttons. “But we won't deny ourselves anymore. We want you wrapped around our cock. Not our fist.”

The blade slides back up, between her breasts, cuts through the lacings of her bra, then uses it to move the shirt away from her breasts, exposing them completely. They circle her left breast with the dagger, spiraling closer and closer to Luna's tightening nipple.

“Such lovely, perfect tits.” Spite takes her nipple between its teeth, rolling it until pleasure borders pain.

“We want to tell you, but Lucanis is a coward. Big scary assassin can't tell the pretty how much we want to feel her tits, suck her nipples and ram our cock into her dripping cunt over and over until she's screaming our name, drunk on the absolute fucking we’ll l give her.”

The demon takes the blade to her right breast, offering up the same treatment as its twin. “But no, he leaves that for me to do. So We'll tell you every dirty thing we want to do to you.”

Luna hated herself for it, but she couldn't stop herself from squirming, squeezing her thighs together, arching her breasts forward and moaning as her nipples hardened and her pussy pulsed with desire. The demon breathed in deep, taking in her scent and picking up on her sweet arousal. It dropped their eyes to her still covered bottom half. With the dagger still in hand, the demon cut the ties holding Luna's pants up and watched them fall to her ankles before swiftly and carefully cutting off her panties at the hips.

It slides the blade up her thigh from knee to apex, watching goosebumps form all over her skin, making her nipples tighten even more and a gush of desire floods her. The demon gathers some on the blade carefully, as if gathering something precious. “ We want to taste you,” it whispers before licking her gathered juices from the blade, slow and sensual.

“To fuck you with our tongue and fingers. To fill your dripping, aching cunt in every way you’ll let him…Let us.”

The demon drops the dagger, lifting Lucanis' hand to cup her breast, lowering his head and swirling his tongue around her npple, nipping at the sensitive bud just to hear her cry out, to make another gush of arousal slide down the insides of her thighs.

“We've wanted you like this the longest. Every time we've sparred together, we’ve imagined fucking you into the wall after. Your tits bouncing in our face, your aching cunt squeezing tight around our equally aching cock.” It finally pressed their cock into her thigh as he kicked her legs apart, making her fuck their leg as she feels just how hard they are.

“We’ve imagined bending you over the kitchen table, our hand twisted in your hair, fucking you senseless from behind, not caring who might walk in and see it. Imagined tying you to your bed, legs spread as far apart as possible, arms above your head as you are now, helpless, dripping, begging as blade and tongue trace the shape of your perfect body, especially your tits. Maker, we really love your tits…then we bury our fingers deep into your cunt until you scream out your first and second orgasms. And then, of you’re a really good girl, we fuck your cunt with our cock.” It pressed said cock harder into her thigh to punctuate the point.

It shifted their hips just enough to be right next to her apex and began dry humping. The hand cupping her breast now pinching and pulling at her nipple. It swirled their tongue around the opposite nipple before closing their lips around the hard bud and sucking. The action made Luna moan and her hips jerk. “Please,” she begged, “Lucanis, please…”

“Shhhh, little Moon. Lucanis is…present enough. Point of no return, Pretty. Let us take care of you, let us fuck you, little Moon. Let us…” Frustratingly, the demon found it's host had more influence on them than they thought. They couldn't just fuck her like they wanted. Not without permission.

“Yes!” She couldn't take anymore teasing. Tears stung her eyes thinking her weakness now damned them both, but her hips begged the demon to take her, to fuck her in the ways it described. In a moment she felt the heaviness of his cock before it was teasing at her entrance and sliding all too easily into her, stretching her, filling her.

It did not ease the aching, but heightened it, her cries of pleasure/pain growing louder with each thrust. The demon growls, releasing her wrists to grip her hips in both hands, practically bouncing her on their cock, manipulating how she squeezes around it. She has to grip their shoulders to hold herself up.

“Please…” Luna angles herself to lean back a bit. “I need…” She feels them reach between her legs, thumb finding her clit and rubbing hard, rough circles into it and her pitch becomes higher as she now fucks herself on their cock.

They watch, in awe of her even as they chase their own orgasm. Indeed her breasts bounce, her face twisted in pleasure, sacred and profane all at once. A final thrust of their hips and she screamed out their name as predicted. But their own release comes with a whimper as they bury their head into the crook of her neck.

“You could bring us to our knees, little Moon. You could bring a demon to its knees…”

[coffeeanddaggers]

POSSESSIVE LUCANIS/SPITE IS EVERYTHING TO ME

(Little NSFW crumb at the end)

Lucanis is totally more subtle with his possession of THEIR Rook.

Lucanis' hand going to rest on the others lower back when they are at a party, his thumb lightly stroking over the spot to remind the other he is there.

Making sure to tuck hair behind his loves ear or fix the others clothes in front of the offending and TO FUCKING CLOSE party trying to catch the Pretty eyes of rook, and if he is really upset use his fingers to guide the other chin over to look at him and only him while asking some simple like if they want a drink or a dance and ignoring anyone else's there. 

SPITE IS FERAL

Rook barely has time to speak before Spite has them pulled behind a pillar or into a room and next thing they know Spite has their pants off and is between their legs, legs up on the demons shoulders and Rook having to cover their mouth or bite their gloved knuckles to keep their moans and shouts muffles as Spite devours them. Lucanis finishing where the demon started, his brown eyes almost black and hungry, his hands gripping shaking thighs.

[hawkinshorror94]

The Wager of Pleasure

Lucania DellamortexPlus!sized RookxSpite

“Smells like Peaches and metal. You are coward Lucanis” Spite hisses as he moves around Rook who is none the wiser to his presence so close to her. Spite’s purple eyes shot over to Lucanis who had his hands clenched in his lap. “I will take her if you are too afraid” 

“Meirda, can you not Spite” Lucanis grumbles at the demon as he tries to focus on Rook putting away her market haul. Since falling head over heels with their appointed leader Lucanis found it hard to ignore her. Her smile that was only meant for him, her small gestures of adoration, but Spite noticed the more physical things. How nice her ass looked in those tight little leather shorts she wore, or how the jewels of her tunic fell perfectly in the valley between her large breasts. On more than one occasion Spite had expressed wanting to feel what her plush belly felt like pinched between his rough fingers or her soft hips might feel with his fingers dug into them. 

“What is he saying?” She asked as she turned to Lucanis, a bottle of tequila in her hands, the last thing on her list. Lucanis shifted on the edge of his cot unsure of what to say, he didn’t think she’d want to hear that Spite wanted her to slam her against the wall and take her when Lucanis hadn’t even had the courage to kiss her. 

“You don’t want to know.” He murmurs pinching the bridge of his nose, she laughs handing him the bottle.

“That bad?” She asks as she watches him pull out the cork on the bottle with a well sharpened knife. Lucanis shakes his head and doesn’t answer, handing the bottle back to her. The tequila inside smells sharp and the first drink burns all the way down to her bare toes. 

“You want her. You won't take her.” Spite mumbles pouting with his arms crossed over his chest. Spite was almost tired of the way they looked longingly into one another’s eyes, almost. Except when they were focusing on one another Spite could touch her softly, like that of a butterfly, her cheek, her back. Just enough to send goosebumps down her arms, conditioning her to feel good feelings when she was around Lucanis. “Drink more, get drunk.” He whispers softly into Lucanis’s ear, all he needed was for him to slip up to let him out. 

“She feels so soft” Spite murmured as he watched Lucanis pin her to the cot, the empty bottle rolling away from open hand. Lucanis focused on how her skin felt, how warm and soft it was against his calloused hands. She smelled like Peaches, Coconuts and metal, like Spite had said. His lips were pressing to her warm skin, he wanted to taste her, the tequila clouding his judgement. Allowing him to feel what he wanted to feel, no thoughts just her and Spite of course.

“I want. My turn.” Spite snapped at Lucanis as he watched the man lick the soft skin of her belly. Lucanis grumbled at the demon who was kneeled by the cot watching, Lucanis could see the demon palming himself over his pants and it sent a tingle down to his own stiff cock. Lucanis tried to ignore Spite and focus on the absolute goddess before him; if he died today, he hoped he could worship her for the rest of eternity. His face buried between her plush thighs, tasting the sweet ichor that flowed there. He undid her fancy Lords bra, it clanked as it hit the stone floor of the pantry and he was back to looking at the two delicious tits he had uncovered. They felt so soft and warm in his calloused hands as he squeezed, watching as the puckered flesh of her nipples tensed. 

“Perfect. Taste them fool.” Spite murmured as he watched Lucanis squeeze the puckered nipples in between deft fingers. Spite watched her face, her lip caught between her bottom teeth and how her pupils were blown wide. Following Spite’s instructions he dips his head down to a nipple, taking it between his teeth and nipping at it gently, listening to the sweetest fucking whine leave her lips. He moved to the next nipple giving it the same treatment as the first, but he felt cool air blowing on his cheek. Spite was blowing lightly against the nipple not in Lucanis’s mouth, watching the nipple retighten and Rook whine louder this time.  Brown eyes met purple ones for a moment and an unspoken agreement was made. 

Lucanis moves back up to Rook’s neck, his hands pinning her wrists above her head, his brown eyes meeting hers for a moment before he pressed his lips back to hers. Their kiss is sloppy from the tequila and the pure desire coursing through them both. She moaned into his mouth as he let go of her wrists, but they stayed pinned above her head with cool invisible fingers. 

“Spite.” She murmured against Lucanis’s lips when he finally left her mouth for air. Her cheeks flushed at the thought of the man and the demon working alongside to pleasure her. Lucanis’s knee slots between her legs grinding into her little leather shorts, his lips ghosting the column of her throat feeling her pulse and low whines.

“She likes that. Her cunt smells delicious” Spite groans as he holds her wrists watching Lucanis take his sweet time down her body. Even her wrists were soft and Spite couldn’t help but press a cool kiss to the inside of them. When Spite looked up again Lucanis was working her out of those little shorts that cupped her fat ass so deliciously. Spite burned on the inside like fire, he let go of her wrist so he could move closer to her soaking cunt. Lucanis’s fingers were carding through the curl’s of her slickened cunt. 

“Stop teasing” Spite murmurs his large hand splayed out over her warm belly, it tenses under his cool fingers or it was because Lucanis had finally slipped his fingers into her soaked folds, collecting all the sweet juices there and bringing them to his mouth. She tasted like cream and he moaned around his own slickened fingers. 

“You taste divine.” He murmurs as he dips into her cunt with two long, lithe fingers, fingers hooking to hit that spongy little spot inside of her. She cries out his name and he leans down using his nose to rub against that little sensitive bud of nerves. Her fingers were dug into his dark hair pulling on it as she pulled him closer to her heat. When he hears her moans pitch up and octave, Lucanis sucks at her clit, his fingers moving with a quickened pace. Spite presses lightly on her lower belly and he can feel Lucanis’s fingers in her and it makes his cock throb with need. 

The sound of Lucanis’s name sounds like prayers as he drags an orgasm from her, his fingers and tongue working to quickly overstimulate her. She was begging, pleading for him to fuck her but all he could think about was how her soft thighs quivered around his head, how the lewd sounds of her soaked cunt were, how good she tasted on his tongue. 

“Please Lucanis, inside.” Her words were broken as she clawed him away from her cunt. He finally obliged, Spite finally slinking away into Lucanis so he can feel the relief he needs as well. Lucanis feels as though he might choke as he slips into her velvety walls. 

“So fucking good.” Spite sighs inside his head as he bottoms out in her, Lucanis focuses on her face. As he lifts one of her thighs and pulls it higher on her belly, pulling almost all the way out before slipping back in, a tortuous speed that has them teetering on the edge of ecstasy or insanity. 

“You’re so pretty like this.” He murmurs into her ear as his hips pick up pace and her fingers dig into her back. “Under me spread out like this.” Lucanis moans into her ear as he feels her clench around him. “Let go” He murmurs it once, twice before he hears her cry out, her legs tightening around him pulling him in deeper as he works her through it. 

He has his face nuzzled into her neck, losing himself as his hips begin to stutter in her, his cock spilling off into her already soaked cunt.  He closes his eyes for just a minute to calm his beating heart. He just drifts for a moment, a moment too long. As Rook’s eyes look up to meet what she thought would be the large brown eyes of Lucanis she is instead met by Spite’s purple ones.

“My Turn”

If you into freaky stuff come back for the second part. Because you know Spite is a fucking freak. Also if someone can think of a better name do tell because I could not think of one

[nyx-nacks]

"It seems our spirit guest has claimed dominion over your front for the evening, Dearest," Emmrich croons, bringing a leather palm to cup the curve of your ass. "That leaves me only one avenue left to pursue."

*

Emmrich stumbles in on Rook helping Lucanis in an unconventional way. Later, he proposes the three of them spend time exploring one another privately.

[ficandkaboodle]

The Stroke of Midnight (Copia x Fem!Reader) - NSFW

A/N: Veteran smut-writers, y'all deserve a hillside of marigolds and picnics complete with pasta and endless breadsticks 🫡 (Seriously, though, thank you to all who've put up with me on this beast. It put me on life-support just long enough to finish it in time! Y'all deserve the pasta picnic and some cookie boxes with dope-ass cookies) It’s my first attempt at non-blurb smut so you’ve been warned… Banner Credit Goes to @saradika-graphics! Word Count: 5897. Shoot dang, almost made it to 5900! CW: Reader and Copia are buzzed so expect many, many references to alcohol and its consumption. And you know what happens when Copia gets buzzed . . .👀 So on that note . . . MDNI for sexy times while intoxicated!

Shady business and unfeasible expectations be damned (or perhaps blessed): the Satanic Church knew how to throw an actually good New Years Eve party. Of course, it would've been given enough if it relied solely on the expectation that alcohol flowed like water. But no: They went the extra mile and actually included food. Not dinky little cocktail wienies and room temperature hors d'oeuvres –  honest to Beelzebub food!

Now that was a commitment to making sure everyone in the congregation was having a good time, in your opinion. Everywhere you looked, there was some form of excitement: Siblings dancing; Clergy members opening party crackers while drunkenly cackling at the curse of glitter they'd inflicted on each other; ghouls challenging each other to shot-downing competitions; and everything in-between.

In short, it was a beautiful bacchanalia with which to welcome another year of spreading the Old One's word.

The only thing that could make it actual perfection, though? Perhaps if your boyfriend of a month and a half were actually by your side. Or, at the very least, within eye shot!

You weren't entirely shocked that he'd disappeared. Being Frater Imperator, it was only an expectation that he might get pulled away for some ass-kissing from residential and visiting eminences alike. But it had been almost half an hour, and your own friends had wandered off to makeout or have other types of fun with their own significant others at this point.

Far be it from you to consider yourself clingy – you liked your independence. But . . . Okay, maybe some sappy part of you still lingered inside, coloring your thoughts and expectations. Specifically, they were colored with the same black and pink of Copia's lips.

Part of you wondered what cheesy holiday romcom you were trying to replicate, holding out for something as cliche as a kiss on New Years. You’d even gotten dolled up in a cutesy mini dress like one you’d probably see in such a sappy flick!

But then again, Lilith and Eve sinned so that man could be born and kiss the way that he did. Deadline aside, getting one at anytime tonight would be the perfect assurance that you were truly entering a brand new era of your life.

So . . . It was probably understandable that you may have looked a little pouty to the sober-enough onlooker. Your eyes scanned the crowd, taking a sip of the cocktail you'd been nursing in order to pacify yourself. By now, you were starting to realize a burning hum in your ears and cheeks as the alcohol began to seep into your blood.

You were beginning to contemplate giving in and venturing to the snack table for some garlic-dipped pita chips (you'd been staring longingly at them since you first arrived, only holding off because of the coveted Kiss), when –

There! Finally! You knew that jacket! It's hard not to, considering it was a glittery gold. It caught so much light that it was frankly a wonder how you hadn't found his gilded disco ball ass sooner. Especially given how . . . awkward his movements are. Uneven, always moving too far left, then too far right before barely uprighting and –

Oh. Oh no.

At one point, he stumbled to a wobbly stop, head cocking and eyes squinting before flying open wide.

A smile grew on Copia’s face as his arms flew up in front of him, hollering out a notably slurred, "There she iiiisssss! Amore mio, la mia vita, la mia mela – " He paused to make a singular yet violent hiccup. "Mela alla cannelaaaaa!!"

You met him halfway in his path towards you, worried that he might collapse on the marble floor if you didn't at least try to catch him. Copia wasn't an especially heavy person but in his drunken state, he seemed to disregard the courtesy of not foisting his entire self onto you. Instead, he was far too focused on hugging you close, mushing his cheek against the top of your head.

"Ahhh, topina. I -hic- missed you!" Your nose wrinkled as a waft of a powerful alcohol flowed down to your nose. You had a bit of a buzz going yourself but at least you had a cute little cocktail to thank for it. Judging by your burning olefactories, Copia was on some of the harder stuff.

"I – ugh – I missed you, too," you responded carefully. It was an awkward act to try and balance the remainder of your drink while also getting Copia to balance flat on his own two feet but you somehow managed. Call that a New Year’s Eve Miracle. "Geez, what happened to you?"

You may as well have told a corny little joke with how he giggled.

"Some Clergy members gave me some shots of rum from Ja -hic-maica! Coconuts!" You couldn't tell what he was laughing at now: The fun time he was having, or the look of horror on your face. Harder stuff indeed.

Now you had an important decision to make: Either you found a seat, prayed that he sat still long enough for you to build up a plate of fried and greasy foods for him to sober up on; or you played the part of the boring old partner and marched him to his chambers for an early evening (well, as early as 11:18pm could be considered).

You heard a sigh slither into the middle of your thoughts as Copia's arms wrapped around you once more, nudging you back into him. The threat of him putting his weight back on you was enough for you to come to a quick decision: Sober him up just enough to where he could take ten steps without the threat of collapse, then take him to bed. With how he was standing, there was just no way you were going to be able to make your way to the other side of the Great Hall, never mind the other side of the building.

You felt confident with your choice just by the journey to a free chair and table alone.

"Okay, oookay," you grunted as you tried to angle his rump into the seat. Copia let out a disappointed sound too young for someone of his age as you gently de-tangled yourself from his embrace. Inconveniences aside, you had to fight back the desire to coo at how adorable he was being. Copia was always affectionate with you, but it appeared that alcohol added a whole different layer to that.

"Don't worry, Caro " you softly assured. "I'm just going to get you a little something to nosh on, okay? I'll be right back. But only if you stay put, alright? If you leave – even if it's just to go find me – I won't be able to find you. So can you be a good boy and do that for me? Stay put?"

When you saw his expression collapse into a somber pout, you wondered if perhaps he found your tone patronizing. Judging by the sulky "fine" he uttered, however, it was apparent that he was more upset by the fact you couldn't be fused at the hip forever.

You could work with that. It wouldn't be long anyway. Even when you returned with a flimsy red paper plate covered in tortilla chips, a scoop of veggie lo mein, and two egg rolls, you could tell that the look of joy on his face was only meant for you. He would've disregarded the little spread entirely and latched himself back on you if you didn't take the time to place both it and a cup of water before him with the gentle instruction that he tuck in.

"Carefully," you were sure to add. A tipsy gait was bad enough; if he ate himself sick, you'd be even further out of your depth than you were already beginning to feel.

To your relief, he listened, proceeding to nibble on an egg roll's crunchy wrapping. Good. Now all you had to do was sit and wait for his system to clear up a bit. Your back and feet cried with relief as you plopped yourself down on the seat next to him – your first and only real mistake of the evening.

In hindsight, you would compare it to being like a living lava lamp. Maybe there was some science to it or whatever, but you were becoming increasingly unable to apply logic. All you knew was that the longer you sat, the warmer your face began to feel and the more bubbly your brain seemed to become. The flare of alcohol was rising inside of you like a hot river, flowing upwards, into your chest, into your cheeks, and into your brain. You could practically feel your sensibilities flickering like a lightbulb threatening to go out.

Crap. Curse that cute cocktail, it had betrayed you after all! Your eyes fluttered as though that would do literally anything for you besides make you look frazzled.

"Wha’s the matter, Schricchio?" Copia sounded only slightly less slurred, though the fact that he was able to pin your shift in demeanor after only an egg roll and a half stood as a good sign. All the more reason for you to remain firm and stand your ground against the liquid possession threatening to take over your senses.

Copia needed you to be the sober one here, even if he didn't really know it. You shook your head and nudged your cocktail further away from the both of you.

"Bad aftertaste is starting to hit," you claimed. A part of you mourned that you would have to abandon it so soon. The dull pain was slightly remedied when Copia wordlessly offered you a bite from the remainder of his fried treat. It was nice to know that there were some things about Copia that not even alcohol could change.

"Are you mad at me?"

He sounded quiet. The sounds of the party grew softer and softer as you both walked further from the Great Hall. On occasion, you'd pass a couple making out or a Sister of Sin drunkenly sobbing over her phone while her equally sloshed friends warned her against texting "him" back.

Otherwise, though, most of the Abbey's residents and attendees were either back where the action was happening, or making some action happen in their rooms. Which was where you, as a Sibling yourself, would probably be heading to once you got Copia situated in his own quarters. As sweet on you as he was, your relationship was still new; you didn't feel it was right to impose and spend the night without his permission.

And even if you had it, you'd have to second guess if it was a situation where anyone was being taken advantage of. He seemed slightly better than he did nearly half an hour ago, no longer launching himself on top of you in an unsuccessful effort to fuse. Even his balance seemed somewhat improved. However, the rum was clearly still in his system, making his cheeks and nose run red and his sensitivities run tender.

That was probably why he sounded so nervous and shy when he'd asked you his strange question.

You knew he couldn't see the confusion on your face, not when he was trailing behind you, but you nonetheless wore it. "No? Why would you think that?"

You probably weren't convincing, given that you barely turned to glance back at him, but you needed to keep your purposeful stride going. Evidently, Copia had a better handle of his alcohol than you did, seeing as the bit of egg roll you'd eaten did virtually nothing for you.

If you broke the intense concentration it was taking for you to avoid wobbling, your barely concealed cover would be blown – and you'd probably faceplant and force a buzzed old man to drag you off somewhere to hide your shame. He’d probably throw out his back and then you’d both enter the new year with wounded bodies and wounded pride.

Copia worried his bottom lip. "For getting silly. And for making us leave the party early."

You nearly scoffed with amusement. Did he really think that that would be all it took to upset you? The poor dear, so darling and worried even when on the brink of being absolutely sauced.

You sighed, the fruity smell of your cocktail fluttering back at you. "Issa New Year's party, Co: Everyone is drunk."

Including me, you thought with guilt. You winced as you realized a bit of slur was beginning to drip into your speech but carried on. "But I dun really care about everyone; I care about you. And a little while ago, I was worried our dear Frater was going to get himself hurt, y'know?"

"I know . . ." he mumbled. The hushed tone of his voice implied a guilt of his own, and it hurt your heart to hear him like that.

You knew good and well that Copia's onstage persona was more confident and bombastic than who he really was offstage. But to see him question or be uncertain about something still tugged a saddening chord inside you. And the alcohol no doubt made it worse . . .

Fuck it. Your conviction to maintain speed was tossed out the nearest window as you slowed your pace until you were right alongside your glittery guy.

"Hey." You entwined your fingers with his, flesh meeting warm leather. At fifty-something years-old, Copia wore the expression of a young child experiencing the wonder of their crush talking to them. Even in your fizzling state, you adored it and hoped you'd remember it forever.

"I mean it."

You gave his hand an affirming squeeze. "I was worried about you, y'know?" The cocktail told you to lean in and burrow against his arm, and you found yourself obliging. The sequins of his coat weren't the most welcoming texture, but the fact that they were on him made them 100 times more bearable to you.

"I wan' take care of you . . . 'Cause you're mine." Welp. There went the goal of trying to bite back your slurring. But Copia didn't seem to mind. Far from it, if his response was anything to go by, in fact.

Returning the gentle squeeze, he sighed dreamily. "You're so nice . . ."

You lightly giggled either from the cocktail further encroaching your senses or from feeling your partner press a small kiss to your hair. "You're not so bad yourself, Frater."

You felt him nuzzle his nose against the spot a kiss had previously been place, then a flutter of a deep inhale and respective exhale. "'Smell nice, too . . ." You almost wanted to make a sarcastic comment about how sure, the residual smells of debauchery from the party definitely made for an intoxicating bouquet. But as his hand released yours, only to wander to your waist, you couldn't help but feel that might've actually been apt in this moment.

A gasp popped from your lips, followed by a light squeal of delight and ticklishness as he gave the tender flesh a teasing squeeze. Your reflexive wiggling only stopped when his other hand crept further up your back. As he drew your bodies closer, you couldn't help but notice how his personal heat felt . . . more intense. Even in the drafty halls of the old structure, Copia was more than enough to set your cheeks on fire.

Well, that, and the intoxication wafting from him.

The gleam of his left eye pierced through the darkness like the stare of a predator on prey. And even in the haze of euphoria, there was a steadiness in them that made sure to lock in on you and only you.

"You feel nice . . ." The low rumble of his voice made a shudder run through you.

Oh, yeah: That Jamaican rum was still there. And no amount of food or water was going to hold it back from taking control of your Copia. Like a devil lying in wait, it struck at the perfect time: A barely-lit corridor, no Siblings or Ghouls or Clergy patrolling, far enough away so that the sounds of the party were just barely above a loud whisper.

Even a more sober you wouldn't have stood a chance. Petrified with lust and intrigue, you were the perfect kill. The rough kiss he pressed to your lips came easily, and you could only welcome it with a heady moan.

The tastes of cocktails and hard rum mingled together between your tongues, overpowering any other taste including your own. In your increasingly buzzed state, you were beginning to understand why perhaps Copia bothered to drink more than one shot of rum: At least when coming from him, it tasted diabolically divine.

A soft whimper for more filled the space between your separated lips, then muffled and obliged when they wetly reunited once more.

Uncoordinated and stumbling footsteps echoed through the corridor as you felt Copia gently but insistingly ushering you backwards until your back found purchase against the wall of an alcove.

There was a stark juxtaposition in that moment, where the cold and uneven stone biting into your bare back urged you even closer against the burning, soft hold of your beloved. The contrast had a dizzying effect, and you weren't sure which temperature made your nipples pebble beneath your clothing more as you released a trembling sigh.

Your thighs twitched out of reflex but that was all the rum demon needed to secure yet another opportunity to take and take. A low, spicy, coconut-scented moan was coupled with gloved hands removing themselves from the curve of your waist and back before returning to your body – with one traveling upwards to your chest and its twin sloping downward to grip at the meat of your hip.

In the short time you'd been an official couple, Copia had made many things clear: That he was the sort to treasure the one he loved, and that he had a fondness for breasts of all shapes and sizes had been but a few of them. And given how he gently cupped yours, relishing in its weight and warmth against his palm, it was apparent that this held even through the haze of inebriation. Not even the ambitions of the rum could blind him to the want of cherishing your body.

If he'd only remained fondling you, you would have been plenty happy. Both parties were enjoying themselves as Copia's thumb glided back and forth over your nipple as though it had found a new toy to play with; and the bead itself seemed to crave his stimulation even through the material of your dress, bending to his touch and tickling your senses.

But with a hardening grip, you were reminded of where his other hand had gone. It pinned your hip as close to the wall as possible, not allowing for even the slightest wriggle away.

"Amore." A single word made uneven by laborious panting. But even then, you knew what he intended: He needed you to stay put, to not move an inch. All the easier for him to position his hips against yours.

Even though your dress made the contact somewhat awkward, Copia's reaction portrayed utter bliss. It was just enough for his hardening dick to become aware of even the slightest softness of your mound. That was all it took for his head to tilt back to release a sound that combined a whine of pleasure with a groan of hunger.

He gave the connection a tentative movement, pressing himself against a slot only the barrier of clothing prevented him from fully entering. The friction proved to be all he needed to give your warmth a few more, testing thrusts before giving way to more frequent, eager, and harder ones.

When his hardness finally found the tenderness of your awakening clit (as evidenced by the full-body jolt and hiccuped, "Oh!" you gave), he knew he'd finally found the angle he wanted.

In the nanoseconds between his hips pulling back and rushing forward, you found yourself just sober enough to remember something. You had never paid mind to because it appeared to just be rumors from ghouls and slander from the Ministry's former director.

But as Copia's hips began to dig into yours, accompanied by hot pants that fanned against your face, you had confirmation: The Frater, when just drunk enough, loved a good frottage.

You squeaked with warm delight as your arms wrapped around his shoulders, forcing your abdomens closer as your lower bodies began to meld together in one humping blur. He, of course, accepted the embrace, shakily endearing you as "Schricchina" as your cute little noises continued.

What probably had once housed something as insignificant as a potted plant was quickly becoming the world’s smallest shrine to lust. The liturgy came in the form of whimpers and moans, your prayers coming from slurred utterings of "please"s and "fuck"s and garbled Italian he had yet to teach you the meanings of.

When it wasn't being attacked with sloppy, tonguing kisses, your mouth hung open, puffing out small pants and tiny "oh"s. You didn't care how you must have looked as drool threatened to fall from your lips; all you cared about was getting Copia to nudge at your swelling clit again and again and again and so on until you grew tired. (Which, of course, would be never.)

The glittery sequins of his jacket bit into your fingers as they gripped against his back and shoulders, but you felt none of it. Nor did you feel the grit of the alcove wall against your back as Copia's feverish movements caused your body to rock against it.

If it wasn't the feel of his hands squeezing and playing with you; his mouth nipping and sucking and licking at whatever flesh he could reach; or the enthusiastic thrust of his dick searching for your wet warmth, then you weren't physically or mentally able to pay it any mind.

Copia himself didn't seem to know what to do with himself; caught in a stupor of his own desires, he wanted to do it all, taste it all, and feel it all. His forehead would press against the junction of your neck, only for him to raise almost immediately so that he could carve his teeth there before applying wet suckles there to salve the reddening spot. His hands would leave their positions, only to instantly regret it and miss the bounce of your breast and the twitching of your hips with every thrust he gave.

He was delirious in a concoction of his own drunkenness, lust, and greed, and he only wanted it more. Unfortunately, this current position, with how your dress lay over your thighs, wasn't going to cut it! A growl rumbled from deep within his heaving chest as he roughly gripped your thigh before hoisting it up to rest against his hip. Your body would have slipped from the position if not for his own thick thigh coming up to seat half your jiggling ass against.

The change in positioning was awkward only for the amount of time it took for him to assure you were situated into place. Otherwise? The blast of pleasure was immediate. With your thighs now properly spread, so, too, did your lips, causing your wetness an easier escape to be collected by your panties. Every thrust against them smeared your slick and created a sticky sound that only seemed to spur Copia on once he realized it lay beneath the rustling of your clothing and your collective noises.

Gritting his teeth did nothing to sharpen the oozing, rasping purrs of "Yes"s. The mantra almost sounded as though he were even thanking you; for what, you were in no headspace to determine. All you knew (or cared to know) was that the feelings were mutual.

"A-Amore," he managed to wantonly string together. "A-are you cl-close? You gonna cum with me?"

His voice had gone husky by now, but even the roughened edges couldn’t take away from how pleading he sounded. The effect it had on you was almost shameful as you could feel your walls clenching, grasping desperately for a dick that wasn’t even inside it yet. A moan, the loudest you’d uttered yet, burst forward from your awaiting lips.

"Yes, yes, yes! Please! Right there, Co, right there –!!" All you could do was murmur mindlessly, begging, pleading for him to just. Keep. Going. There! And ever the dutiful lover, your Frater was more than happy to oblige.

Through eyes fluttering through wave after wave of sensation, you could make out how your lover’s expression began to tighten. His eyes screwed shut and his teeth wore into his kiss-swollen lip. It was as though he were concentrating. And judging by the increase in tempo and form, he very well may have been.

Thrusts that had been straight forward until now began to curve and rotate, not at all unlike the effortless hip movements he would perform during his frontman days. The devilish thrusts that just watching footage of would send your pussy salivating and craving him. Feeling them on you, experiencing how direct they were, how thoroughly they hit all the sweet spots on such a small target –

You could've broken into sobs with how good the friction felt. How every streak of his cock left a trail of blissful fire lapping at your needy little clit. Your hips would trail after his own, desperately trying to mimic his movements and catch each rut his body applied to yours.

Your breaths pitched higher and higher as words melted into incoherent, single syllable sounds. If any more direction for what you needed to get off were required, you would have to fight to give them form. It was perhaps by sheer luck (or the interference of Asmodeus himself) that all Copia needed was to listen to your whimpers, your screeches that only vaguely resembled cries for more, and note how your hands struggled to commit to one place to know precisely what his good girl needed.

You'd long since stopped caring who all heard you – all that mattered was that you came, even if it was only on Copia's clothed cock. And you would have only been able to hear the sounds of your dry humping session, if not for the collective sounds of the Abbey raising in unison.

It rippled from back where the party was at, came from behind muffled doors, was cried out into the night from the rooftops outside:

"TWENTY . . . NINETEEN . . . EIGHTEEN . . . SEVENTEEN . . ."

The numbers were sharp and sobering. The countdown! The New Year!

"C-Copia," you gulped. You tried to reorient your grasp on the man but the continued rolling of his hips made doing so difficult. Your body continued to bounce, threatening your semblance of mind. Worse still, your body continued to gobble up every sensation and threatened to render you no better than a dumb animal once more.

"Copia, the countdown – " You could feel your thighs beginning to quiver, your stomach beginning to do that telltale clench. Your clit popped demandingly as your petals fluttered in their mess. Without thinking, your hand flew to the back of Copia’s head and snagged at the hair.

The shriek this man made! Not only that, but the hold he had on you: Your tugging had clearly registered to his poor brain that this was a demand – he had to go all out. N o w.

". . . ELEVEN . . . TEN! NINE!"

"C-Cara, amore mio, tesoro mio," he practically choked before his words dissolved into a puddle of Italian and English and a third language you couldn't place. The final time he regained any semblance of coherency, it was only to demand one thing:

"Cum."

It was not rugged in any sense. It was husky, rickety. Desperate. For you and only you.

The leg that had been hoisted instinctively curled around Copia’s tensing backside in an effort to pull him in close and keep him in place. His hips stilled in a frozen thrust, tiny quakes shaking between the both of you in the spot you connected most. A white-hot flood overtook his senses, robbing him of the ability to even utter of moan of completion.

But for you, you still experienced everything in one overwhelming blanket: Stars and fireworks unlike those you'd ever seen on New Years flooded your vision. The final rut of his cock striking against your tender nub was all you could feel shocking your entire body, tingling your fingers and toes to the point of numbness. All you could smell was Copia's cologne mingling with the perfume you'd no doubt mostly sweat away. All you could taste was, yet again, the addicting taste you and Copia had created, as his tongue once again swirled into your mouth with an animalistic groan.

And all you heard was a cluttered chorus:

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!"

The whistling and booming of fireworks roared into the night as distant sounds of cheers and party horns and pots banging pans went off.

They weren't even the first thing you noticed as the waves of your orgasm began to ebb. In fact, even as the familiar sounds and smells of the new year began to wisp into the hallway from windows and passageways alike, all that filled your senses was . . . Copia.

The feel of his warm body slouching against yours, the impact of his orgasm rattling him weary. It was welcoming compared to the sloshed mess he’d been earlier; he hovered as much as himself above you as possible, as though putting his full weight on you in such a state might break you. You noted how his aftershocks caused his hips to reflexively twitch, as though even while overstimulated, his cock still longed to be with you. He grunted softly, quietly every time. The cute little noises and reactions tickled your own sensitive arousal, making your aftershocks vibrate your shivering thighs.

Perhaps egg rolls and party foods weren't what was necessary to sober either party up; perhaps a good old orgasm was exactly what you both needed.

The unfortunate cost, however, was that you now realized the position you both were in. Thank Satan nobody had been in the hallway at any given time. Otherwise, they would've been treated to the image of their dear old Frater Imperator madly humping away in an alcove, cumming at the stroke of midnight, then separating from a fierce tonguing while leaving a strand of spit between both his lips and the lips of his lover.

. . . Wait.

You gulped down some air, trying to even out your still heaving breast. You'd gotten your New Year's Kiss! Sure, it wasn’t the cute, romantic Hallmark movie-style you’d always imagined. But clearly your imagination sucked because this was legions better than anything you could have ever concocted! The absurdity of it all managed to make it through the still evaporating fuzz of your mind. You couldn't help but giggle breathlessly, causing your tired old man to look at you nervously.

"W-what? Is – Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?" he asked, his sobering up giving way to nerves and insecurity.

You tried to catch your breath to form the right words, but Copia couldn't help but babble on even through burning lungs.

"I'm so sorry! I – I was being stupid and horny and – "

"H-happy," you paused to gulp, "new year. Amore mio."

You inhaled just enough to soothe your lungs before leaning in for a kiss. It had much less tongue than most of the ones you'd shared this evening, but it was filled with passion regardless.

You didn't see how his eyes widened with shock, given that your own drooped shut, but you could feel how he quickly got over it just in time to return it. He even trailed after your lips as they separated. You would have gladly met him halfway once more, but you really needed to breathe. Even if the once crisp air had since turned hot and stinking of alcohol and sweat. And faintly of slick.

. . . Y’all really needed to get out of this nook.

You grunted lightly as you moved your thigh down from its perch over Copia's own. While the position had been blissful in the moment, you knew you were probably going to need to sleep on a heating pad tonight. But even before that . . . you were going to need a shower. The slick in your panties was cooling fast in the chilly January air, creating an uncomfortable feeling that squished against your thighs with every movement. Really, a bath was more preferable for such a mess but the communal bathrooms offered no such option.

You winced as you realized how wobbly you now stood even with the wall of the alcove supporting you from falling backwards. That shower was going to be difficult . . .

"U-uh." Your eyes flew up to a now sheepish-looking Copia. The redness on his face and ears no longer came from the rum demon possessing him, but clearly from that cute, almost schoolboyish nature he tended to have whenever it concerned you.

". . . Yes?"

"W-well. If it's okay with you, I – The Imperator Suite!" He paused, realizing he'd probably been a bit too loud. "I mean. The Imperator Suite: It – there is a bathtub. It’s really nice. Gets the best water and. And seeing as we both –  Er, I made us both a mess, I think it's only fair if . . . If –  And only if you're okay with it – If you'd like to maybe clean up . . . with . . . me? And then we can relax and cuddle and . . . "

His voice trailed. He cringed. Eyes screwing shut and all. As though he hadn't just dry humped the bejesus out of you in a hallway where you could've easily been caught.

Damn this adorable man.

You hummed adoringly as you placed a hand to his warm cheek, prompting him to look at your post-orgasmic haze.

"I would really like that, Frater," you assured.

You could have collapsed right then and there was his gloved hand overtook your own in a loving hold before bringing it to his lips for its own kiss.

No, really. You absolutely could have: The final wisps of sexual adrenaline had begun to give dissipate, leaving the full aches and pains of grinding at such an awkward angle (and with your back pressed against a stone wall, no less) to truly kick in. Copia, too, for all that limber hip action was worth, began to feel a dull soreness heat up in the bones.

It was going to be a long trek to the Imperator Suite, you both realized.

But between the hisses of discomfort from wet undergarments, the quiet "ouch"s, and assurances of how he had a stash of Tylenol back in his nightstand drawer, you were still glad for the experience.

Hand in hand, you weren't hobbling into the new year alone.

[xhollowfaerie]

Disease

(So I accidentally managed to bug my previous post that was the prequel to this. It got lost in the Fade. This is the follow-up of Rook also trying to find some relief after she gets very riled up watching Lucanis cook, inspired by this, of course! Here is the fanfic with all these snippets on my ao3! Warning: Lucanis being extremely hot, nsfw, masturbation (not too graphic). Enjoy! <3)

-

Rook felt her chest tighten as she watched Lucanis, his skillful hands chopping away; occasionally wiping on a soft towel, dripping with the juices of a lemon; the tiny amount of flour leaving a kiss on his alluring, sharp cheekbone… 

He looked so good in that apron, dashing, his gorgeous hair neatly tied into a bun; she could see the tiniest streaks of gray, digging her nails into her thigh with a muted hum. 

Her breath caught in her throat as his nimble fingers grabbed a chunk of meat, pushing it down onto the cutting board, holding it in place… she noticed the faint trace of veins on his hands; the wetness of her tongue darting over her lips left a cold sensation, making it all the worse.

Lucanis expertly slid the knife across the meat, slicing it into thin sections. Kore pressed her legs together, trying to subtly fan herself with a stray napkin. He washed his hands off before jotting down a note.

“Ah, perfect. Now, you said you wanted to help? I was going to ask if you could- Rook? Are you alright?” When he glanced at her, her entire face was blooming; the rosy shades of her hair blended so beautifully with the redness in her cheeks; she seemed bewildered, taken aback when the Crow addressed her. The elf let out a small gasp and covered her mouth bashfully. He could swear he saw a drop of sweat roll down her clavicle. Did she have a fever? He was definitely going to offer her his coat next time they went to the Anderfels.

“Kore?” His brows furrowed and he placed the pen down, taking a step towards her; she backed away in sync and gulped, shuddering wordlessly. His soul ached.

“... Lo siento. Have I done something wrong?” Rook’s heart thrashed in her chest at the innocent look of a kicked puppy plastered all over his breathtaking features. She knew she was being unreasonable, but all she could think about was seeing that face between her legs.

“No” she managed to choke out, finally peeling her hungry gaze off of him. “No, Creators-” it was too late, she already said it reflexively, even if she meant to stop using that word- “no, never, you’ve never wronged me. Not for a second.” He was so incredibly confused. Spite circled from behind him with an evil grin. ‘Rook lusts. Shaking. She wants us.’

The Crow’s eyes widened, a faint blush dusting his face; he cleared his throat and tried to wave Spite away. “Whatever it is, I can help. Do you want me to stab someone? Tell me what you need, Rook.” Kore looked as if he had just slapped her (little did he know), and she somehow got even redder. She felt the room suffocate her. Instinctively, her hands scrambled to undo a button on her shirt. Too hot.

“I- I-” 

She looked at him again, and her legs wanted so badly to move towards him; her hands clutched her clothes, and he felt his own resolve begin to tremble.

There was… no way Spite wasn’t just messing with him.

Right?

He inhaled slowly, studying her face. His jaw clenched ever so slightly, his eyes narrowed.

‘Yes, yes. Take her, Lucanis. She craves us.’

His fingers twitched. He tried to spur himself on, find the courage to approach her. Maybe… Just, maybe - “I’ll- be right back!” she squeaked before bolting out of the dining room. As soon as she was out, she leaned against the door, sliding halfway down. She lowered her damp forehead and breathed heavily, closing her eyes. She stood there for a second, clutching her knees.

“This is so bad” she whispered, hands covering her face in shame.

“Trouble in paradise?” Neve teased with a knowing smirk, scaring the ever living crap out of her. Rook jumped in place, clutching onto the door for balance.

“N-Neve?!” “It’s okay. I won’t tell.” “N-No, w-what? W-We weren’t, I-”

“Oh, spare me, Trouble. Whatever you’re worried about, I’m sure Lucanis can handle.”

The detective left Kore with a wink, which did not help lessen her condition any.

This must be what they call a walk of shame, Rook thought as she headed to the communal lavatory in order to splash some cold water at her face.

Her trembling hands held onto the shell-shaped marble sink, glaring at her own reflection. “This is so… so inappropriate! I… No, he is a dear friend, my closest-”

Her own voice cut itself off. She shook her head and squealed, tapping her face repeatedly. “No, no, stop it, this is- I can’t think like this, not with Lucanis ! Not with- S…Spite!”

Maybe she just needed a second to cool off.

. . . 

“L-Lucanis!” she mewled into her palm, squeezing her eyes shut in embarrassment. She felt so humiliated, despite the intimacy of her own bedroom. This was so wrong. How could she ever face him again? 

Bitter and sweet, like a kiss goodbye .

Gods, she loved his voice, his accent; she was so enamoured with all of him; he had her falling in love with Treviso, getting so close to the Crows they treated her like one of their own; she could never touch a drop of coffee again without picturing his lips on hers. His rare, precious smile. 

She wanted to protect him so dearly. Rook wanted to hold his hands, to cradle him, to lay his head on her chest; to run her fingers through his dark hair, to feel his beard on every inch of her skin. It was genuinely distracting how obsessed she was with his hands, with his fingers, with the little playful twink in his eyes. The way he freaked out over the Gods and their ancient magic, his dynamic with Taash; he always made Rook laugh so easily. Lucanis was so, so careful with her, as well as the rest of the team. She had never expected him to be so expressive, so charming.

His expensive, elegant clothes, always so neat, so proper. His collection of daggers, his knives. His tone when he got cocky. How he looked when he cooked, when he was focused. When he was angry. The few moments of softness between them. The intensity in his eyes, the bags beneath… His humanity. Every single thing about him.

When they met, she wanted to say she was scared, but despite his reputation, the first time she laid eyes on him, all she could feel was a thrill . 

A thrill for danger.

You like to walk a little close to the edge .

He didn’t scare her. Neither did Spite. She was intrigued. Or rather, she was enthralled.

She knew she was a lost cause when they went on a little shopping trip through the market in Treviso. Every time he spoke of another companion, so concerned with buying each of them a gift, her heart swelled. Kore remembered the way the spices in the market overpowered her, how handsome he looked in the twinkling lights. She had bought him the wyvern dagger on a whim, a compulsion, moved by whatever was stirring inside her; so desperate to show him he was needed. That he was a good man. That he was loved, and he deserved the world. Honey and lavender cream. Sweet, intriguing.

She wanted to show him more. She wanted to kiss him for hours on end, to worship him; to make him forget, the Ossuary, Zara, Illario, the Crows, the Vints, the Antaam, the Gods, she wanted his mind to be empty of everything, everything except for her. She wanted him to feel safe. She wanted to help him feel whole.

She wanted to see his face engulfed with pleasure.

S-so, so close-!

Something must be wrong with her; not only had she never experienced this before… it was so unbearably strong , so intoxicating. Her desire for him, her affection, they weaved around her so tightly, he never left her mind.

Releasing her pent up feelings like this wasn’t even the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last. It only helped for a brief moment… terror swirled inside of her as she wondered how much more of this it would take before he found her out.

Would he be upset? Angry? Disgusted? Would he despise her? Would his eyes turn purple…? Would he grab her by the throat, pull her hair- or, maybe, he’d just kiss her neck, lovingly pin her thigh down, keep his gloves on as he slides his fingers in- 

Tell me what you need, Rook.

“Have you guys seen Rook?” Taash’s voice outside her room made her freeze in horror, painfully biting into the side of her thumb to calm her panting.

“Lucanis is trying to find her. Said she just ran away outta nowhere.”

Rook let out a quiet groan of regret.

“I’m so terrible” she whispered, sinking into her own shame.

‘Yes, you are. Terrible. What should they do to you?’

Dread Wolf’s asshole - that voice, again! Luring her, taunting her. The voice of a siren.

At that point, Kore had already figured it out, even though she denied it so vehemently.

“Lust” she whispered shyly. “Please, I… I love him. Don’t make me ruin everything.”

‘So innocent. You know you won’t be able to focus, not unless you finish.’

Kore didn’t even know how to deny it. She was right.

I want. To talk. To Rook!

She really was sick, even fantasizing about Spite… But Kore had never felt so needed , before; she adored his excitement, his fervor, his passion, his attention, his determination. His desperation , for her, and her alone…

Her fingers trembled as they forced the pillow over her face, arching her back helplessly.

“Mmf-fuck, S-Spite, L-Lucanis…! IAh- A-Ar lath ma…!”

. . . Spite kicked his feet, sitting on the counter next to Lucanis. He was lost in deep focus, attempting to nudge Lucanis’s coffee cup off. He let out a small noise of frustration. It wasn’t working! “What are you doing now?” Lucanis spoke to nobody in particular, his voice echoing in the dining room as he continued to brood over the boiling pot. Before Spite could open his mouth to answer, a shiver ran down the length of his spine. The demon thought he heard Rook’s voice calling out to him… moaning for him. Elated, he jumped off the counter, taking Lucanis’s coffee with him to the stone floor. “Ay, pendejo! I just made that…” Lucanis grumbled, grabbing a rag to wipe the spill.

‘She called for me!’ Spite grinned, kneeling down next to Lucanis. ‘Spite felt.’ “I’m sure she did” he muttered.

‘I. Miss. Rook! Go find! So boring. Without Rook. Lucanis, no fun- Wait!’

Spite shot up again, aggressively sniffing around the two of them.

“Mierda, you really are just a dog” the Crow sighed deeply, straining the rag into the sink with a look of disappointment. He tried to inhale the delicious scent, as if it would be enough to keep him awake.

‘Smells. Like. Lucanis. Coffee. Eugh. But. No, no! Something else! Sweat. Want . Like Rook. But different . More… intense. Vanilla. Amber. Spices.’

Lucanis wanted to ignore him, but his eyes blinked harder than usual. Itchy.

He turned around sharply in realization, scanning their environment. There was no way. Spite was the only demon there. He near enough stopped his own heartbeat, just to better hear even the tiniest noise around them.

Nothing, other than Spite’s grating voice.

‘Pink! Hungry’ he pointed, but before Lucanis could notice anything, any trace of it was gone.

“Humor isn’t your strong suit” Lucanis groaned in exhaustion, reaching for the nearly-empty jar of coffee beans. Maybe Spite had been pulling a dumb prank, but he was still on edge. Even the smallest chance of Kore being in danger made every hair on his body stand.

‘But-’

The imposing doors creaked open, and a streak of pink locks peered through, voice meek.

“Sorry…! I’m back. Still need me?”

Lucanis felt every muscle in his body relax. He replied without thinking.

“Always.”

Lust smirked, her claws digging deeper into Spite as she covered his mouth from behind, purring into his ear.

‘Shhh. Hush, now. We both want the same thing.’

[onestopanime]

Late night headcanon thoughts

So Lucanis let’s be honest after his first time with rook he felt like he needed to step up his game. So he needed to go to the most knowledgeable person for the job… Emmirch

Emmirch being a gentleman and a man of culture there had to be some type of book in his library to help him. Lucanis is 100% a visual learner and textual learner. At first his research would cause the tips of his ears to redden. The thoughts of doing somethings to rook played in repeat. But the more he read the more somethings resonated with him.

The idea of rope interested him more than he thought it would. He’s used rope before to try up contracts to gain information before killing. But the idea of tying up rook, vulnerable from his touch, eyes pleading to touch him back to no avail. That, oh that mental image would paint his body to blaze. Thanking Emmirch for the book and swiftly heading back to his quarters having to hear spite every few moments.

“Rook would look so pretty in rope!”

“Let’s play with Rook now!”

“I want to see Rook’s face!”

And sadly for once Lucanis is fully agreeing wanted to go to rook now but knowing he needs to study and control himself before hand.

Rook not know they unknowingly turned out this man and is about to see what a man starved would learn after getting one single taste. 

[asirensrage]

Demanding It All - Gojo Satoru Oneshot

Title: Demanding It All Rating: Explicit Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Unnamed Female OC Warnings: Slight possessive behaviour. Sex. Mentions of Gojo being an asshole (and ruining her dates with others) Summary: They've both finally had enough. Satoru does something about it. Sequel to Wanting More

Notes: Unbeta-d. I wrote this in a few hours and only looked it over a couple times so forgive me if it's not to my usual standards lol. It's also only the second time I've written him. I used/referenced a couple prompts from this post.

This is dedicated to @nejires-hado and the anon in my ask box who decided to complain to me about @nejires-hado sexualizing anime characters before asking me "Don't you ever look at yourself and feel shame?" The answer, of course, is no and because I excel at spite, I bring you this spite smut. Enjoy!

“Damn it, Gojo! What the hell is your problem?” 

“Hmm?” he asks, looking not at all bothered by her anger. He’s lounging on her couch again, looking as though he belongs there. No matter how many times she’s thrown him out, he’s found his way back. Like some stray cat she never wanted. 

“Why are you ruining everything?”

“Ruining?” he laughs at that. All it does is piss her off more. “What was there to ruin?”

“Don’t you have other people you can bother? Or Elders to irritate? Schools to reform? Some shit that doesn’t require you to dig into my personal life?”

He stares at her. Even if she can’t see his eyes, she can feel his gaze. “Who says I’m not?”

She tries not to scream in frustration. She doesn’t know what’s wrong with him or what changed. Suddenly, he was showing up more frequently, not to mention interrupting all of her dates, throwing his arm around her like she was his and demeaning every man she had met with. It was driving her insane. Especially considering she actually liked the first one he drove off. “I’m sick of this. I’m sick of you acting like you’re not doing anything wrong!”

He sits up at that, long legs bent at the knee with his feet planted on the ground. “When have I ever done something wrong?” He scoffs. 

“You showed up during my date and told him our kids were waiting for us!” 

“Oh, that.” He leaned back, getting comfortable again. “He was boring. I saved you from a terrible date.”

“I didn't ask you to!” she snarls. “In fact, I don’t know why you’re still here! We’re not friends, Gojo.”

He grins and she can already tell that whatever comes out of his mouth is going to irritate her further. “Oh? Then what are we, dearest?”

“A headache.” 

“Aww, come on. You deserve better than them.” He stands up and moves towards her. She glares at him, inwardly cursing the Limitless that keeps him protected. 

“I deserve some peace from you,” she bites back asking if he has other friends. She was angry but that was just cruel. “What is your problem?”

“You.” 

She blinks, surprised by the tone of his voice. Satoru is rarely serious. Even at the brink of death, he finds a way to enjoy himself, to mock those weaker than him. Everyone is weaker than him. “What?”

“You are my problem.” He moves closer and she stops herself before she steps back. She’s not afraid of him. She never has been. 

She glares up at him. “Well don’t stick around on my account.”

He sighs and she gets the sense he’s disappointed. “Haven’t you figured it out yet?”

“Gojo, leave me alone.” She doesn’t want to play his games. “Or I’m going to find a way to throw you out the window.”

He laughs at that. “Always so creative! Not that it would hurt.” 

She reacts without thinking, shoving him back. Her hands stop before they can reach him. It just makes her angrier. “Fuck you, Satoru!”

He reaches up, grasping her wrists. Her breath catches in her throat at the feel of his skin against hers, the warm grip that holds her. Has she ever touched him before? Has anyone? “Promise?” 

“Just stop, okay? Stop bothering me. Stop scaring my dates off. Just stop!”

“They don’t deserve you.”

“Yeah?” she sneers. “Who does? Nanami?”

His lips are on hers before she can even think. His hands still hold her wrists, keeping her in place as his mouth moves against hers. He pulls back, just enough so that they can breathe. 

She stares at him, confused and uncertain. He kissed her. Satoru, who has strived to make her life hell, kissed her. “What–”

He lets go of her wrists, one hand moving to the small of her back, pulling her into him. The other hand goes to the back of her neck, tilting her head up towards him. His mouth finds her again. The kiss deepens. It’s hard and demanding, almost punishing for something she never knew she was doing.

She can taste the sweetness of the candies he had been eating on his tongue. His grip tightens for a moment and she moves her arms, reaching up to wrap them around him. She digs her nails into his shoulder, feeling him smile against her lips. She loses herself in the kiss, mindlessly wondering how it came to this while hoping he doesn’t stop. 

His mouth moves, trailing kisses against her jaw, down her neck. She presses her fingers into the base of his scalp, trying to keep herself from pulling off his blindfold so she could bury her fingers in his hair. 

“So good,” he mutters against her skin. “-knew it.” 

She’d shove him off for that if she didn’t want him closer. She presses up on her toes, nipping at his jaw for the remark. His grip tightens slightly before he kisses her again. He steps forward, forcing her back. She lets him lead in the parody of a dance, ushering her through her own apartment as he sheds the shirt he’s wearing in between claiming her mouth with his. She doesn’t even question how he knows which way to go. There’s no point. Not with him. 

She pulls off her own shirt, throwing it in the direction of her laundry basket. His chest presses against her, warm skin against hers. Somehow she never thought he’d be warm. His mouth finds her again and the thought is lost as she kisses him back just as hard. She bites at his lip, ignoring the way he laughs against her. He lets her take what she wants, all the while moving them until the back of her knees hit the side of her bed and she’s lying down with him above her. 

Her breath catches in her throat at the sight of his eyes. Darkened with lust, she can barely begin to decipher the look in them before he closes them, distracting her again with his kiss. His fingers move, tugging at the shorts she’s wearing. She lifts her hips enough to help him pull them off. He takes her underwear with them. 

She closes her eyes, unwilling to see his expression as he looks at her, bare under his gaze. Weren’t they always? 

He doesn’t linger long. His hands move, mapping the curves of her body as his mouth traces a trail that only he understands. Her hands grip the sheets under her and she allows herself the satisfaction of digging her fingers into his hair like she wanted. She can’t stop the urge to yank on it, just because she finally can. He bites at her skin before pressing his tongue flat against one of her nipples. Her breath catches in her throat and the desire to hurt him fades against the need for more. 

She hooks a leg around him, pressing him closer. 

“Patience, darling,” he teases. “I want to savour this.”

She groans in frustration. “Don’t play with me, Satoru.” 

“But it’s so fun!” 

Her eyes narrow and before she can lift her leg to kick him off of her, he grips it, holding her in place against him. He presses closer and rocks his hips against her. The friction of his clothed legs pressing against her makes her gasp. 

“Wait,” he orders. He bends back down, mouth on her skin again. He keeps one hand on her leg, keeping her against him. The other skims against her, cupping one of her breasts. His fingers brush against her nipple, tugging at it playfully before he moves to soothe it with his tongue. 

Her head falls back, relaxing into the sensations. Goosebumps prickle against her skin that his fingers brush against. She’s going to be marked, bruises caused by his mouth. It's as though she’s one of those desserts he goes out of his way to find, the ones he lingers in eating, trying to enjoy as long as possible. 

He shifts, moving down slightly and releasing his hold on her leg. His hand goes between her legs and she is left suddenly open as he presses against her carefully. It’s seconds before he finds it, thumb pressing against her clit as her legs clench around him. If he laughs, she doesn’t hear it, her focus only on his fingers and the way they are slowly pressing in. When his mouth joins, his tongue flicks as it replaces his thumb before pressing flat. 

The pressure increases and she buries her hand in his hair again, holding him close as she gets closer to the edge. 

“Please, please, please,” she begs. She’s never begged him before but she can’t stop. Not when there’s more. Not when she’s so close. 

She breaks. He doesn’t protest at the way her legs tighten around him or how she pulls his hair without meaning. It’s as though all he can focus on is her and how she tastes. He finally pulls away, letting her catch her breath and come back to earth. She could finally understand why he called himself a god. Why it might be slightly deserved. Forget what abilities he could have, that alone was enough to redeem him. 

He positions himself above her, staring down at her. His eyes are bright in the shadows of her room. She stares back, any hesitance is gone in the aftermath of her orgasm. 

“Stop looking at me,” she says softly, finally breaking the silence between them. He smiles at her, something softer than his usual smug grin. 

“I can’t.” Seeing her confusion, his smile widens. “You’re so pretty like this.” 

Her nose scrunches up at the compliment. It doesn’t seem right coming from him. She tries to shove him back but he grabs her hand, pinning it down against the bed next to her. 

“Don’t,” he says softly. He leans forward and brushes his nose against her jaw. “I want to see everything.”

“Don’t you already?”

“Not like this.” He kisses her again before pulling back. She sits up slightly, confused at the sudden coldness before she realizes what he’s doing. His pants are quickly abandoned and she can see the condom he pulls out. 

“Can I–” her offer to help is cut off. He moves impossibly quick sometimes and before she can even move, he’s back between her legs. He pauses only to check with her, to meet her eyes as he positions himself. She hooks a leg around his waist, pulling him closer. 

The stretch is uncomfortable at first, despite the preparation. He groans against her skin as he holds himself close. She breathes, trying to let herself relax as he fills her. Did it feel like this before? Were others lacking or was it simply more because it was him? 

His lips move across her neck, an attempt to distract them both. She clutches at him, nails digging into his skin before she demands that he move. So he does. 

Her head falls back as he thrusts forward. It’s so much and somehow not enough. She wants more. She wants to burn him into her skin, some proof that this is real and happening. That he’s really muttering in her ear about how good she feels, how he’s the only one to deserve her. How he won’t let her go. 

She ignores that and focuses on how she feels. He moves one of her legs higher, his elbow under her knee as he tries to get closer, shifting the angle of his hips until her mouth drops open and words become impossible. The noises from them both would be embarrassing if she could bring herself to care. The pressure continues to build and she finds herself plunging into another orgasm before she realizes it. He kisses her, swallowing her scream as his pace increases. She leaves scratches in his skin, drawing blood as he fucks her into the mattress, refusing the ease even for a moment. 

She’s teetering on the edge of another when he finally breaks. He groans, burying himself into her. He holds her tight enough to bruise but doesn’t move. The potential of her own orgasm fades and for once she’s a bit thankful if only for the chance to breathe, to hold off on losing herself to him again. 

He pulls out, discarding the condom before he collapses on the bed next to her. She turns, moving to her stomach while she tries to recover her energy. How did they get here? Satoru and her were friends. Sort of. And now…did they ruin that? 

An arm curls around her waist before she’s pulled into his chest. She glares, regretting the last hour already. His eyes are closed and she’s surprised at the fact that he actually looks relaxed. Not in the way he pretends he is, like when he taunts the Elders.This looks real. 

One of his eyes open, peering at her. “Still hate me?” he asks, sounding far too amused for someone who just tried to fuck her senseless. 

“Yes.”

His lips twitch at that. “Same amount?”

She pretends to think about it. “Hmm…maybe a little less.”

“A little?”

She moves, holding up a hand and showing an inch between her thumb and index finger. “Just a bit.” 

He laughs. “Then I’ll just have to keep you in bed until you love me.”

Her face scrunches up at the thought. “I’m going to throw you off the roof.” 

Satoru’s grip tightens on her, pulling her closer. She thinks she feels his lips against her hair. “You can try.”

“One of these days, Satoru…” she warns. He just closes his eyes, ignoring her. She tries to push him off, gaining a bit of space so she can at least clean herself up. His grip is firm though and he doesn’t let go.

“Not yet,” she hears him say. “Just…wait, okay?”

It’s too soft and she finds herself settling without realizing. “Yeah,” she leans back against him. “Okay.” 

taglist: @raith-way @arrthurpendragon @veetlegeuse @chickensarentcheap @nejires-hado @residentdormouse @endless-oc-creations  @stanshollaand @wordspin-shares @chrissymunson

[selunesdreams]

Chapter 5: Honorable Intentions

“So how does Spite feel about Illario?”  “SPINELESS. WHINY-” “About how he feels about most people.” “And that is…?” Taking his coffee from the counter, he sipped it slowly before responding.  “Impatient.” “Even me?” She batted her lashes. “Do you ever think he’ll just get fed up and-” “Why don’t we talk about something else, mm?”

Pairing: Lucanis x Fem Rook/OFC x Spite???

Summary: With both Spite and Rook keeping him on edge, Lucanis looks for distraction in meal prep...

Word Count: 2.6k

Things of note/warnings: 18+ fic, MDNI! warnings: I use the word cock ONCE. (sorry) Please read on AO3 if you need to track warnings, they will be inevitably detailed better there (or just want to be real sweet and give me hits/kudos/comments).

─── ⊹⊱♤⊰⊹ ───

Aunt Viama stood barefoot on the couch, peeking through the window nervously. 

“Viago, take Fiamma to her room!” She hissed, “Dante, what is she doing here?”

“Relax, she doesn’t bite. It’s probably a contract,” said Fiamma’s father, as the two children snuck to their favorite eavesdropping spot in the hall and exchanged a look.

“Are you kidding me? My sister’s been in the ground one week! You’re grieving! We’re grieving!”

He motioned her aside and opened the door, ignoring her objections.

“Caterina, to what do I owe the honor?” He beckoned her inside with a polite gesture.

Calm and collected, the First Talon entered the den, her cane tapping against the wooden floor. A boy, roughly Fiamma’s age, clung to her coattails as she walked. Lucanis trailed behind them, his head bowed. 

“I’m sorry to trouble you during such a painful time, Dante,” she kissed him on each cheek in greeting, “but my grandson has gifted your daughter something that was not his to give away.” 

“What did you do, Fiammetta?” Viago demanded, pinching her arm.

“It wasn’t me. It was Lucanis!” she whispered, slapping his hand away and running to her bedroom. Throwing herself under her bed, she retrieved one of her mother’s old hat boxes and pried off the lid, sifting through her trinkets in search of the opal. The sound of Caterina’s muffled voice carried through the wall from the next room.

“I encourage my grandson to steal whatever his heart desires, if he can get away with it, presuming he’d go after sweets or knives. Instead, he takes books and gems.” She huffed. 

“The makings of a good Crow,” Dante said. “An eye for knowledge and beauty.” 

Caterina made a noise of disapproval. “Any other would have been inconsequential, but this one…has history. I was having a new setting made for this one and he swiped it before I could get it to my jeweler…”

With a pounding heart, Fiamma carefully took out the gem and cradled it in her palm one last time, before she closed her fist around it, stashed the box back under her bed, and shuffled into the den.

“Miss Caterina.” She straightened her posture, extending her hand. “Please don’t be mad. Lucanis just wanted to make me feel better.”

Dante’s mouth fell open in surprise as Caterina bent down and plucked the opal from his daughter’s hands. His eyes widened as she held it in the light, examining it. “Is that…”

“Yes.” Caterina retrieved her coin purse from inside her coat and slipped it inside. “You are a very honorable girl, Fiammetta. My grandsons could learn a great deal from you.” 

Behind her, Lucanis raised his head, his brown eyes heavy with embarrassment. “I’m sorry for getting you in trouble, Fiammetta.”

“Nonsense, Lucanis. She isn’t in trouble for your oversight.” Caterina snapped.

Fiamma’s father crouched beside him. “It was a kind gesture, Lucanis.” He said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure you meant well.”

Caterina nodded. “I apologize for the intrusion, Dante. My deepest condolences…but if you don’t mind lending me just a bit more of your time, there’s some Crow business I’d like to discuss.” She glanced around. “Is there somewhere we can chat?”

Dante rose to his feet. “Of course. I’ll have Viama put some coffee on.” He turned to Fiamma and kissed the top of her head. 

“Why don’t you take Lucanis and Illario to play with Viago? I’m sure he’s not far...” her father murmured, frowning with gentle disapproval as his gaze drifted toward the shadow in the hallway. 

As the adults departed, Viago emerged from the hall, nudging Lucanis with his elbow and gesturing towards the front door with a subtle tilt of his head. With a shameful look, Lucanis tore his eyes away from Fiamma’s and followed her cousin outside. 

Charging forward, the youngest Dellamorte seized her hand, shaking it a little too hard.

“I’m Illario.” He said earnestly. “Can I see the rest of your house? I bet it’s not as big as my Nonna’s!”

Fiamma blinked, her gaze moving past him to the door as it shut behind the older boys. Forbidden from leaving the house without her father’s escort, she had no choice but to stay behind.

“Um…sure.” She said, trying to hide the disappointment in her tone. “Do you like art? My papa has lots of paintings in his office.”

Illario grinned, giving a charming bow, as if reenacting something he’d seen an adult do. 

“I like whatever you like.”

─── ⊹⊱♤⊰⊹ ───

Not even a dragon attack could close the Treviso markets. The following day, they opened as usual, with a nervous undercurrent of chatter among the merchants. Lucanis browsed the stalls, taking the opportunity to shop while Rook slept in. Viago and Teia had already left to handle Crow matters at the casino, and he needed some time to clear his head.

Spite’s unpredictable nature gave him an aversion to sleep these days, and thanks to Rook, he wouldn’t have slept last night even if he wanted to. Lying on Viago’s couch, he stared at the ceiling, struggling to dismiss the images her words had evoked as his cock strained uncomfortably against the front of his trousers. Worse, Spite took a maddening amount of delight in Lucanis’ discomfort, and even more so at Rook’s mischievousness. It worried him - how would Spite react to Rook the next time he took control? He couldn’t risk sleeping, couldn’t risk Spite climbing into bed with her when she was inebriated, vulnerable, alone…

“MAYBE ROOK WANTS YOU IN HER BED. SPITE IS JUST HELPING.”

He shuddered and deposited a few gold coins in a merchant’s palm, wrapping up his purchase and heading back to Viago’s apartment. If he was lucky, Rook would wake with a nasty hangover and have forgotten the entire evening.

Upon his return, the house was still quiet. Lucanis deposited his groceries on the counter and lit the stove, setting a kettle of water atop it, before venturing down the hall to knock softly on Rook’s door. He cracked it open, knowing if he let her sleep any longer, she’d be furious at him for not waking her. 

Through the gap, he watched her lift her head, brushing her tousled hair from her face to look over her bare shoulders at him. Her white sheets slid down, settling just below the curve of her waist, and he shifted uncomfortably in the doorway. Holding them over her breasts, she squinted at him and rolled onto her back. 

“Lucanis?” She muttered, shielding her eyes from the light pouring in through her windows, “What time is it?”

He averted his gaze, preferring to stare at the sun than endure this any longer. 

“Midday.”

She jerked forward. “Why did you let me sleep so late?” 

“I thought you might need it.” He said, turning back to the hall, “Get dressed and come get some coffee. I’ll make breakfast.”

Lucanis moved with measured steps, his eyes glued to the floor until he reached the kitchen. He prepped Viago’s glass coffee maker, admiring the craftsmanship, and pulled out a cutting board, peeling and mincing several cloves of garlic. 

Rook wandered in soon after, hair freshly brushed and clearly having capitalized on the availability of her old wardrobe. She wore a lace-necked blouse, a crow brooch pinned at the base of her throat, and a pair of loose, black trousers. Around her shoulders, she had draped a velvet purple cloak that fell just above the soles of her leather boots. 

He glanced up with a raised eyebrow, then returned his focus to the tomato he was coring.  

“I made coffee.” He said stiffly. 

“Of course you did.” As she went to pour herself a cup, her hip brushed against his. 

“SMELLS LIKE LAVENDER AND CITRUS BLOSSOM.”

He cleared his throat, picking up another tomato. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Morning hangover aside?” she sat down across the counter from him and took a sip from her mug. “I appreciate you trying to relieve me of some of my guilt yesterday, but let’s keep the vintage away until after we’ve killed a few gods, hmm?” 

He smiled, letting a huff of air escape from his nose. “Of course.”

“How did you sleep?” 

“Fine.” He lied, dicing a bell pepper while admiring Viago’s kitchen knives. They were sharp enough to make a clean kill if they needed to. Maybe that was the point.

“Can I help?” She nodded towards the stove. Did she remember a single thing she said last night? Was she toying with him? Or too embarrassed to bring it up? 

“YOU BRING IT UP!”

“The pan should be warm enough. You can oil it.”

She stood and rummaged through Viago’s cabinets, retrieving a bottle and uncapping it. “So how does Spite feel about Illario?” 

“SPINELESS. WHINY-”

“About how he feels about most people.” Lucanis scraped garlic and onion into the sizzling oil, adding an assortment of spices. 

“And that is…?”

He incorporated the tomatoes and a dash of cream, stirring as he tried to ignore her curious gaze over his shoulder. Taking his coffee from the counter, he sipped it slowly before responding. 

“Impatient.”

“Even with me?” She batted her lashes. “Do you ever think he’ll just get fed up and-”

“Why don’t we talk about something else, mm?” Lucanis suggested, pulling out one of his market bags and retrieving a few eggs. He steered Rook aside, placing his hands on her shoulders so he could reach the stove.

“THE COUNTER. SHE’D LIKE TO BE BENT OVER-”

“Oh. Sure.” She returned to her seat. “Thanks for making me breakfast.”

“It’s not entirely unselfish. Viago has a nicer kitchen than the Lighthouse does.” He said, breaking the eggs into the stewed tomatoes.

Rook rested her chin on her hands. “True.”

“Is it nice being back?” Lucanis asked, removing the pan from the stovetop and dividing its contents across two plates. He gave her one, then took out a baguette and sliced off a few pieces for them to share. 

“In some ways. When I was on Viago’s bad side, it wasn’t always so nice.”

Lucanis settled beside her, mopping at his eggs with his bread, letting the yoke bleed into the tomatoes. 

“I might still be on his Viago’s bad side. Who knows?” Fiamma said and took a bite of her food. She uttered a soft moan of pleasure, and Lucanis dropped his silverware. Rook remained oblivious and continued eating. 

They finished breakfast in silence, the hallmark of a well-prepared meal, and Lucanis rose, picking up her plate and mug and taking them to the washbasin. They needed to get out of here, for more reasons than one. 

“I told you, Viago is used to picking up after me,” Rook said with a grin. 

So she did remember last night. 

“If he has a good side, I’d like to stay on it.” Lucanis said, scrubbing the dishes clean. Rook joined him near the sink, grabbing a towel and holding her hand out. He passed her a plate, and she dried it carefully. 

“Are we…good?” She asked, pushing the plate aside to take the next one. 

“We’re good.” Lucanis said, shaking water from his hands and wiping them on his pants. “Let’s get back to work.”

─── ⊹⊱♤⊰⊹ ───

The days that followed dragged on. Devastated by Neve’s absence, Bellara became determined to find a dragon hunter and a Veil Expert, furiously taking notes and charging ahead with renewed vigor. And find them she did. After excursions to Rivain and the Necropolis, Emmrich Volkarin, a Mortalitasi, and Taash, a Qunari with a talent for fire-breathing, joined their team. Emmrich arrived with an animated skeleton assistant, Manfred, who was quickly becoming Rook’s favorite recruit. More odd, but enjoyable personalities, to add to their collective. 

“So Lucanis, you’re an Antivan Crow?” Taash asked, their feet kicked up on the dinner table as Lucanis prepared dinner.

“Yes. Like Rook.” He replied from the stove. Rook could feel his disappointment from across the room - he undoubtedly missed the accommodations of Viago’s kitchen. 

“Do all Antivan Crows have demons?”

“What? No!” He spun around. “Spite was put into me by the Venatori.”

Since their arrival, their new companion had bombarded Lucanis and Rook with endless, bizarre questions about Crow customs. Varric would have relished the chance to spin his wild tales for Taash. Unfortunately, he took most of his meals in his chambers and wasn’t keen on visitors other than Rook.  

“Demons typically infect mages through manipulation, but Lucanis’ situation is…rather unique.” Emmrich explained. 

“Oh. That’s messed up.” Taash removed their feet from the table and leaned forward. “What’s Spite like?”

“Angry. Impulsive. Annoying.” Lucanis said, taking the soup he was making off the fire. 

“If he’s so unhappy, why doesn’t he just leave?”

“It would likely kill me.”

“No offense, but why would he care?”

Lucanis hesitated. 

“Because we have a deal.”

Rook’s head snapped up as she set Emmrich’s bowl down in front of him. “You made a deal with a demon? ”

Manfred let out a hiss of discontent, stomping his feet in a panic. 

“Oh, Lucanis…” Emmrich lamented, shaking his head. “That was a very foolish thing to do…”

“Zara was waiting for Spite to break out of my body like a moth in a cocoon. I convinced him we wanted the same thing and promised I’d give it to him.”

“And that was that?” Asked Taash. 

“Her. Dead.” Lucanis said, bringing the soup to the table and ladling it into the bowls Rook had set out. The large doors to the kitchen swung open, and Davrin entered, Assan playfully nipping at his heels. He took the furthest seat from Lucanis at the head of the table. The two hadn’t gotten on particularly well ever since Davrin found out about Spite. 

“Play nice,” Rook warned in a low voice, handing the Grey Warden a goblet and filling it with port. She took a seat beside Lucanis, whose end of the table always filled up slowly, everyone wary of his demonic passenger. 

As she blew on her spoonful of soup, Rook caught sight of Bellara entering with Harding and, to her astonishment, Neve. The three appeared to be mid conversation, putting her slightly on edge.

“Are they really gods, though?” Harding asked, looking up at the detective.

“They’re gods. Or the closest thing to them.” 

“Neve!” Rook breathed, setting down her silverware and bracing her hands on the table. “You’re back.”

“Yeah.” she said, not sparing her so much as a glance as she took her seat next to Davrin. “I am.”

The cold shoulder stung, and Rook lowered her head, taking a measured inhale. Neve’s feelings were her own, and she had the right to be disappointed.

“A couple of new people have joined our team since you left,” Harding, seeking to ease the tension, chimed in. “This is Professor Emmrich Volkarin, he’s our fade expert. That’s his assistant beside him, Manfred. And there’s Taash, our dragon hunter.”

“Hey.” Taash said.

Emmrich gave an elegant wave. “Charmed.” 

“A dragon hunter?” Neve asked Taash, “Minrathous could have used you.” 

Rook stiffened as something grazed her knee beneath the table. Startled, her eyes flicked to Lucanis, who offered a tight smile and reassuringly squeezed her knee.

Mierda. This was trouble. 

“So what’s going on?” Rook asked Neve, tearing her gaze from Lucanis. He withdrew his hand and glanced down awkwardly, returning to his dinner.  

“Back home? What isn’t?” Neve sighed, mustering all the civility she could. “Look, you made an impossible call without enough information. I get it. It’s the corner the gods put us in. It just…might take time to shake off.”

Rook dipped her chin. “Of course.” 

“You are back, though, right?” Bellara asked. 

Neve lifted her wineglass and took a deep drink. 

“Yeah, Bel. I’m back.”

[pixelizedprince]

🪶💜🪶💜🪶

If there's one good thing about being a trained Rivaini Seer it's that you and your demon boyfriend can tag team your grumpy boyfriend in bed.

🪶💜🪶💜🪶

Mage Half-Elf fem!Rook (Margaux) x Lucanis x Spite

1.5 K

Lucanis/Sprite referred with occasional they/them pronouns

Jumpscare - Italian Petnames

Explicit (Teasing, Orgasm Denial, Threesome)

“Mar. Marks Him. For Us.” Spite's glow snatched the moment, offering Lucanis’ bare neck to the mage. 

A giddy squeal escaped Margaux as she bounced up and down, rhythm of the three fully in motion. Her lipstick had already been ruined, well spread across Lucanis’ face; she freshly blushed, eyeing up and down his muscular throat. “Oh do I now?” She managed to pant, one hand bracing herself on their thigh, the other hooked around their neck, fingers tangled in Lucanis’ downy black hair. 

“Please.” Spite’s growl came with a buck, hands affixed on either side of her soft hips keeping her balance and their movement in stride. 

Margaux gasped, a squeaky and bubbly noise, trying her best to remember the words to tease. “Su-ch, manners. Good boy- Ahh- Of course, Love.” She smiled wickedly as she leaned forward and roughly met with Lucanis’ neck, wet lips parting and sinking her teeth in, gently, but firmly, and working her tongue against the skin. 

Spite let out a pleased hiss that hitched into Lucanis’ shudder. “Nnngh you little demons, the both of you.” His words vibrated against Margaux's lips as she trailed purplish love bites from collarbone to ear, nipping his ear and tittering in joy. Despite his complaints, Lucanis continued to thrust and moan.

“You know you - mhhm - love us~!” Margaux smiled and kissed him proper, her grip on the prince of crows tightening. “Baby, I'm getting cl-close.” She wrapped both arms around them and gripped their back, desperate. Her curly hair falling behind her shoulders as she tilted her head back. Lucanis smirked, and as Margaux arched her back, he halted his vigorous movement. 

“W-Why?!?” Margaux whined and ground down greedily, Lucanis twitching against her attempt. 

The crow barked out a laugh, pulling his right hand from it's place on her hip and trailing it up her side, across her curves and dips, rudely avoiding her breasts and instead raised it to run through her curly hair. The crow kissed her pouting mouth. “Vita Mia, he wants this even more than you. What Spite did was very naughty.” Lucanis wrapped a curl between his fingers and pressed his lips to the strands, taking in the sweetness of her floral soaps and feeling the magic of Spite rippling through his mind, freshly, angrily flustered at the goading of the scent. It took a lot out of him to contain the spirit and he could see the doubled vision as Spite threw a flash of a tantrum. 

“Lucanis! LET! US! ENJOY!” The ghost of the demon shouted, a separate face but the words spilling from his own lips. Lucanis bit his own lip and pulled out, withholding a proper finish.

“Lucanis please!!” Margaux gave her biggest, sweetest eyes paired with a clawing at his back, begging to continue. She continued to shift where she sat, her body begged for relief, to be full of them. 

“Just a moment…” Lucanis freed his hand from her hair, and delicately traced the marks Margaux had freshly coaxed across his own skin. Pressure on the fresh bruises stung in a way that made their cock twitch. (No Fair!!! No Fair!!! Mar Did Good Job! Want To Make Lucanis Finish! Make Loves Happy!)) Lucanis squinted his eyes and shook his head as Spite echoed inside his mind. The crow's fingertips wet from where Margaux's tongue had traced. He dragged nails down his own throat, pulling thin reddened lines down the shaved stubble of his neck, brushing through his own chest hair, managing a cruel and teasing phantom touch across his own left nipple before his hand trembled with a violet force. Spite raked the hand the rest of the way down Lucanis’ front, digging his nails into a claw on his thigh, threatening to draw blood. One wrist caught by the demon, perfectly painted nails wrapped around the other, Margaux intertwined her digits with the other hand that still gripped her hip. 

The show that Lucanis had made of himself for Spite was making her feel crazed. She needed them inside her now. “Spite, Love, help me out please.” 

A gravelly chuckle rasped from Lucanis’ still bitten lip, a bruise forming there as the two before her were teasing themself, Lucanis hard and already starting to leak. Margaux leaned forward with force and kissed them both, sucking Lucanis bottom lip from their own teeth and into her mouth, Lucanis moaning into her breath. Gently, teasingly Margaux eased herself back on their length, humming a series of small whimpers into Lucanis’ neck, his hands still held by both her and the spirit, bond and unable to refuse their pleading any longer. 

“Gods DAMMIT!” Lucanis playfully huffed, hearing Spite snicker in his mind as Margaux restored her previous pace. The crow near immediately breaking his feigned annoyance as he rejoined her tempo in thrusting again. As she bounced her breasts heaved repeatedly into his face. Lucanis nuzzled into the softness of her, kissing at her moles, avarice fogging his mind as he lapped at her chest, teeth scraping across her nipples, across her curves as she bobbed and clasped around him. He could see tears forming in her eyes. His own emotions getting the best of him as he quickened his thrusts, getting rougher and freeing her breasts from his mouth, he instead pulled himself closer to her ear, endlessly praising her in the tongue of trade, Antivian, Orlesian, anything his mind could think of, and some things that Spite willed to be known.

“Margaux. Vita, you are so beautiful, doing so well - MAR FEELS. LIKE EXCITEMENT. - You are mesmerizing, we want you to - CUM - Spite! ” Lucanis rapidly frowned as the spirit wheezed an ugly laugh.

Margaux nearly stumbled at her pace as she let out a lightheaded singsong-y laugh, muttering between kissing them. “Oh, Oh ahh, hmm, my loves, oh my loves, my wonderful boys, You are, both, doing so good ahh, Oh - fuuuck!!!” With a last few big hops Margaux convulsed and dug her nails into his shoulders, beautiful black curls haloing her as she threw her head back one last time, incomprehensible cries and euphoria hitting her at last. 

Lucanis could feel his vision blur as purple plucked at the edge of his consciousness. Margaux melted into his chest, both hands snaking their way into his hair and she tugged at his roots, Lucanis heaving as his own climax was right on the edge. 

“Lucanis. Wants. Needs. To. Finish?” A mockery from his own lips, the crow could almost cry in frustration as the demon inside of him was holding him, wavering on the edge, in a state of agony or ecstasy that could be achieved in this final moment.  

“Well, Lucanis, did we do good enough for you?” Margaux's teasing tone breathless as he remained inside of her, she swayed her hips, lulling him along, truly transforming Lucanis’ want into a wretched anguishing need, just as Spite had spoken.

“Ti prego!! Cattivo, Vita! Per Favore!” Lucanis snapped, his body being used by the two of his loves and he couldn't take it anymore, he bucked wildly, Margaux held onto him, both with her arms and herself warm upon and around him. Spite vibrating in his mind, detached his hold on Lucanis' senses, freeing his grasp on the man. The climax finally flashed through Lucanis as the denied orgasm quaked him at last. Spite trilled, a sound nearly like a purr, and ghostly feathers flapped erratically at his people being happy. Lucanis wanted to roll his eyes at the spectral display but Spite had earned his wings tonight. 

Margaux let out a satisfied gasp as the shockwaves of Lucanis’ warmth and her trembling self finally parted, pooled heat between the three of them a damn fine mess. 

Lucanis kissed her deeply, clumsily. Like it was the only air he'd ever get to breathe again. Margaux giggled once more, freshly exhausted and happy. Her smile was heavenly as she draped herself over his chest, laying on her stomach to look up at him, running her fingers through his beard. “My Loves.” She hummed, eyes glancing from Lucanis’ flushed face and the phantom purple shade, a doubled vision, a near perfect replica, that lazily smiled down at her as well. 

“My Loves.” Lucanis responded, one hand wrapped around her back, claiming Margaux and holding her close to his chest, the other extended at his side, resting in the phantasmal purple shadow of wings that embraced him and Margaux both. 

“Loves.” Spite's voice thick with emotion, magic, promise, warmed them all.

It sure as hell wasn't conventional but the three had carved out their own version of happiness, together. “Loves.” Love spoke anew. Quietly, calmly, unceremoniously, the three rested together, together, together.