#whisper SHRIEKING and those TEETH
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merrilark · 1 year ago
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This... this was cruel. Holy cow, help these poor girls.
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screampied · 3 months ago
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☆ cw. fem! reader, mating press, soft dom choso, squirtīng, p spanking, dirty talk, size kink, praise, mdni.
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you tell choso it’s practically impossible to make you orgasm – and he ends up making you squirt instead.
“really?” he’d huff in a ginger cooing voice, sucking his teeth together as he watches a thick portion of his cock disappear between your sweet soddened folds. you let off a gasping moan once you glance down, getting a wide view of him easing his hefty weight into you. choso’s got you in mating press—a position he’s been wanting to try with you for a while, and with the way you were easily clenching around him had his entire body twitching. as he’s being as gentle as possible, he lets off a soft grunt before placing a bare hand on your tummy. “so you mean like . . never, baby?”
“n- never,” you inhale an incoming breath. your legs were sprawled ‘n spread — creating a stretched ‘v’ shape with your trembling feeble limbs. choso’s got a hand wrapped around his aching shaft before he starts to gradually sink inside of you deeper. “u..ughhh,” you hiss out, hearing your own wanton squelches shriek right out of your sopping pussy. choso smears a thumb down your entrance and you could see the cunt drunken grin starting to warp against his lips. “fuck, jus make me cum choso. like that, harder.”
“okay,” choso gruffly groans, his swollen sack already starting to mercilessly slap against your entrance. it’s loud numerous ‘thwap!’ ‘s and your glassy eyes widen the moment he slowly lifts up your leg just a bit higher, sexily throwing his head back with a carnal eye-flickering-roll. “just hold still,” and with one hand, he softly caresses your chin. “ ‘n keep those pretty eyes on me. gooood girl.”
intently, dark mousy eyes bore into you whilst he’s slowly driving his inside of you. you’re whimpering, already starting to hear the growling snarling creaks of the wooden bed frame ring against your ears.
“t- thaaat’s it,” choso grunts, and you can feel his honed hips tilt inward. he’s big, and with the gaping stretch he’d always create—it’s got invisible cogwheels spinning ‘n turning at the insides of your empty brain. it doesn’t take him long before he’s sensually pounding you with deep loving thorough thrusts, making sure he’s buried at the hilt. choso’s heavily panting with raspy breaths, clawing a hand through his shaggy black strands. he’s so pretty, and you couldn’t help but stare at him whilst he’s tenderly ravaging your sweet gripping walls. choso’s hair flawlessly of his flows down his narrow shoulders before he moans. “goddd, so good. doin’ so good.”
with a cute shrilling ‘oh!’ the moment his bulbous tip meanly slams into your sweetened sensitive spots, your jaw dangles agape.
he’s already reached it, and every time his body crashes into yours at full speed at such miles per fucking hour . . your skin sticks to stick against his like glue. smacking smacks of fleshy mounds gum against each other as he’s jackhammering his slim hips up and down before you shriek. “choso
 ohmygod, right there. fuck me, fuh—”
“quiet,” he whispers, grabbing your chin. your eyes meet his, and as raven bangs string down his eyes, choso gives you a quick kiss. it’s sloppy, and you moan while he’s still buried balls deep. each risquĂ© stroke has you dizzy, craving for more and as his tongue curls through the layout of your sweltering hot mouth, he briefly pulls away. choso huskily grunts, his powerful hits against your cunt creating loud squelches that resounded off the thinly-made walls. “f- fuck, hear that, baby? think she’s trying to hah . . get a word in.”
choso’s weight remains hovering over your body as he’s pounding into you. you moan, feeling his hot breath waft against your skin as he buries his face into the cove of your left shoulder. a hand reaches between your legs, and he starts to smear all kinds of circles ‘n shapes against your glittery wet cunt. wetly, he’s lightly smacking his palm against your stuffed full entrance, droplets of your honeyed juices splattering against his hand.
‘psh’ after ‘psh’ and choso grunts, hearing how you were not only vocal from your mouth, but in between your legs too. “so pretty,” he whispers, licking a stripe down your neck, softly nibbling a playful munch at your skin. “c’mon, baby. ‘m gonna need you to make a mess for me.”
oh, his hips were just the definition of fervent though.
your pussy’s hysterically gurgling out desperate sloppy pleads of want and need as your nails decorate his toned back with many many scratches. choso’s back was your own personal canvas—and he loved whenever your fingers would drag down his skin—painting areas of his flesh every single time. “cho- chosooo,” you whine out, tossing your arms over him. you could feel his back muscles tense, feeling his askew hips deepen its strenuous hits against your pussy. it was orgasmic – his rhythm alone, and your toes were already curled, mouth dropped, eyes bulged. “ ‘m gonna cum, make me cum choso.”
“uh huh. like that, you got it,” he purrs, feeling your cute legs starting to grow limp. he’s so nice with his hips, making sure he’s got the perfect angle. choso’s cock runs through you languidly, it’s slow but steady but also speedily fast. you could feel his stout cock repeatedly trying to kiss it’s way at your fluttering g-spot before you let off a trilling whine. “easy, easyyy girl,” he cups your face, a fat thumb stroking the right side of your mouth. “hey. look at me, baby. you got it,” choso repeats, and as he’s lewdly moaning right with you, bodies slamming in such luscious rapture, choso sprinkles kisses near your chin. “give it t’ me. be my messy baby, thaaaat’s it.”
right at his exact words—you felt yourself tightening up. . although something within you bursts, and you bite down on your jaw. it’s sudden, it’s so sudden that your eyes start rolling the second you realize you’re gushing down on his cock. a shaky breath leaves out of choso as he instantaneously pauses his hips—stilling his cock inside of you without moving anymore.
pretty doe-enlarged eyes with hearts swarming in his irises focuses primarily on you, and you could hear him whining out a ‘holy shiiiit’ while you mewl out your oh-so euphoric release.
it felt like forever but it was only for about three seconds, and you’re stupidly cross-eyed, moaning once choso starts to gradually pull out. “h- heh, baby chose to be wet today, huh,” and you let off a sobbing whimper once you feel him starting to smear his tip against your leaky cunt.
you’re drooling from your glossy puffed slit, and as he’s starting to politely smack his hardened cock onto your twitching heat, choso grunts. ‘you’re sooo pretty like this,’ the exact phrase that repeats in his brain like a mantra.
“let go, good girl. keep goin’. make me just as messy as you, princess,” and your brain merely short circuits. the elatedly shocking friction of his plump tip playfully hitting your soaked cunt has nothing but cute babbles departing from your babbling lips. choso drags his swollen cockhead down further, stopping at the bottom of your clit before letting out a shuddering, ‘phew.’
“c- choso, fuck,” you moan, still feeling staticky tingles roam through every vein of your body. that was unlike any feeling you’ve felt before. as his eyes soften, meeting your gaze—choso’s nudely glistening body shadows over yours. seconds later, he slowly trails his head down, propping himself between your legs. through hazy lensed eyes, you peer down, peeping at him while finding a hand of yours pawing its way through his tangled inky strands of hair. “mhh.”
“baby,” choso whispers hoarsely, his voice a bit rough and gritty from moaning for so long. such detail made you throb and he knew it too. leisurely, he’s beginning to lick a straight slope up your weeping cunt.
he can’t help but give it a open stare for a few seconds, taking your beauty from between your legs alllll in. it’s so pretty ‘n puffed — dribbling from the sides of your slick own arousal that shot out a shimmering geyser just a few seconds ago.
you’re tender, and he can’t help but slather his hot pink tongue between the crevices of your folds. “think . . you can be my sloppy girl one time?” and as he gives your pussy one quick french kiss, he pouts at you with a wry pussy drunk grin.
“pretty please?”
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gloomwitchwrites · 3 months ago
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141 with a partner who likes to bite
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Okay, anon. I'll be honest. When I read this prompt, I immediately thought of "cute aggression." Not sure if that is what you meant or if you meant something else, but that's what I went with. Kinda. There are some more suggestive undertones in a few of these. I had a lot of fun with this one. Thank you so much for sending it in!
Presented in four double drabbles.
For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE
Task Force 141 x Reader (can be read as gn!reader)
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, biting, cute aggression, established relationship, teasing, flirting, suggestive themes
Word Count: 800
ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
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John Price
"Are you teething?” asks John. “Do I need to get you a pacifier?"
John sounds annoyed, but you know that he isn’t. Not really. He happily puts up with your shenanigans.
"Can't help it,” you reply, showing your teeth. “You're too tempting."
The two of you are curled up in bed. He’s trying to read. And you’re trying to annoy him. When John is shirtless and reclined in bed, you have a clear view of his muscles. The temptation is always there, and it’s a pull you can’t resist. The aggression isn’t violent. It’s just overwhelming.
Clearly not liking your answer, John grunts. He tosses his book aside, uncaring of losing his place. One moment you’re next to him, and the next you’re fully on your back, trapped beneath his weight.
Giggling, you playfully shove at him, but there is no intention to escape from him. It’s not like you could break out of his grasp if you tried. He is warm and taut. A weighted blanket. This is what you wanted all along. To be beneath him.
"Stop."
He nips at your throat.
"Fucking."
Then he nips at your shoulder.
"Biting."
Finally, John nips at your upper arm.
"Me."
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
"Someone's going to think you're abusing me."
You grimace, even though Kyle’s tone is teasing and not at all upset. His arm and neck are peppered with small teeth marks. Most of them look like random little indents in the skin while others appear to be in the beginnings of bruising.
“I might have used excessive force,” you murmur, thumbing one of the marks.
Sometimes you can’t help yourself. The need to do it is overwhelming. Most times, you shake it off.
Kyle grins. “I like them. They’re little reminders.”
You laugh. “Oh yeah? Reminders of what?”
Kyle leans in, hand sliding up your back to grasp the nape of your neck. Pulling you close, Kyle lowers his voice. It’s all sultry smoothness.
"Of how many times I can make you come,” he coos.
“Kyle!” You lightly smack his chest, face heating as his gaze softens.
He shrugs. “You also just like to bite me.”
“Can’t help it,” you mutter.
“You’re like one of those small dogs,” he teases.
You roll your eyes. “Don’t you dare,” you scold.
“Adorable. Sweet at first glance.”
“Kyle.”
“Mean bite.”
“I swear to God, Kyle.”
“A—”
You place your hand over his mouth.
John "Soap" MacTavish
With Johnny as your bed, you spread yourself over him, head resting against his right pectoral. A rugby game is on. Johnny’s completely focused on the television as the two teams move about the field like small insects.
Johnny’s large, muscled arms are draped over your back, but his left bicep is dangerously close to your face. Every vein is pronounced. Tempting. You want to trace them with your tongue.
A naughty little urge creeps in. Makes itself known. Slithers around your brain to whisper that you should.
What’s one little bite?
It won’t hurt.
Like an itch that needs to be scratched, you lean forward, lightly chomping down on Johnny’s arm. The urge settles, the neurons in your brain content and happy.
Startled, Johnny jerks. Then, he laughs, arms tightening around you.
One second, you’re in full cuteness aggression. The next, Johnny is rolling you over, trapping you beneath him against the couch. Instead of you biting him, it’s Johnny biting you.
You shriek playfully, but he continues to nibble.
“Let me go,” you laugh. Smacking at him does nothing.
“You little goblin,” he mutters, dragging you off the couch and hauling you toward the bedroom, rugby match forgotten.
Simon "Ghost" Riley
Simon wears only a thin, black shirt, leaving his arms bare. Your mouth waters at the sight of the protruding veins and taut muscles. The urge to touch and taste is overwhelming. It burns bright and hot beneath your skin.
"What are you looking at?" asks Simon without looking away from the menu board on the far wall.
“Nothing,” you reply instantly, glancing away like you weren’t thinking about his muscles.
A few seconds pass, and then you slip an arm between his, clinging to Simon. He doesn’t react. The menu board has his full attention. Simon is more worried about filling his stomach.
Turning your face into his arm, the urge to bite down—to unleash the aggression—wells inside you like a tsunami. At first, you resist, reminding yourself that you are in public and this behavior is inappropriate.
But you lose.
Your mouth starts to open, teeth poised to lightly bite.
“My arm isn’t a chew toy,” says Simon out of the corner of his mouth.
"I didn't bite," you mutter.
Simon slips his arm out of your grasp and then drapes it over your shoulders.
He leans in close. "You can bite me all over later."
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dadsbongos · 7 months ago
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local adventurers get body swapped and fuck sloppy style
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2.5 K words / warnings - unprotected pinv sex, fem body for reader, oral (m+f receiving), slight choking, pwp, not super proofread
summary - something something marcille and senshi need medicinal herbs
 its not important. you and chilchuck and laios get it on in each other's bodies
~~~
“Laios, I don’t know if you should touch those
”
“He definitely shouldn’t!”
Laios touches the vibrant orange flower petals, grazing his fingertips from the outer curl towards the neon yellow stigma, “I think if I press right here, then
”
“Laios!” Chilchuck shrieks at the same time you gasp, “No!”
A yellow powder spews from the now gaping stigma, clogging Laios’ entire head. In your shared panic to rescue the man, you and Chilchuck also inhale traces of the pollen. It tastes unexpectedly sweet, like ripe apples fresh from their tree -- it’s also incredibly disorienting. Head spinning and throat tight, you’re forced to clench your eyes while stumbling for either of the familiar bodies you’d arrived with.
You find one -- cold metal flattening your palm, though it’s strange -- what you’re touching is only the waist of Laios’ cuirass, but you’re reaching up. Your fingers just barely graze the lip of his arm opening.
Certain you’re not kneeling, and now uncertain that you’re sane, you open your eyes to gaze into the beaming reflection of
 yourself. But this version of you has her hands skimming down her sides, nails biting the pouch over your tummy.
Glancing up, you find brown fingerless gloves covering your hand. You also find that you have to really stretch your neck to look up at Laios, who is staring down at you with a disturbed flinch.
“Laios?”
It's your own voice that heeds, “Yeah?”
Slowly, you swing your(?) head to face yourself, eyes wide, “Laios?”
“Yeah?”
With an uncertain, shivery hand, you point up at the armored blonde, “Chilchuck
?”
Laios’ voice whispers back your name before gently pleading, “Get out of my body
”
“I don’t know how!” you wail, tugging on brown hair just to feel the sting that confirms this isn’t some horrible nightmare, “Laios, what’d you do?!”
“If you squeeze this flower right, then it goes into self-defense mode and releases a pollen-like substance that switches people’s souls and bodies. Pretty neat, right?” his excitement with the flower is interrupted by a more carnal curiosity, “Can I feel?” he hovers your own hands over your chest and makes a squeezing motion, “I wonder if they’re as squishy as they look?”
“Sure
”
“Yay,” he murmurs, immediately latching to your chest, “Your breasts are so soft, and warm.”
“Thanks,” your naturally gentle tonation sounds odd, dissonant with Chilchuck’s agitated and shrill voice.
“Don’t let him fondle you!” Chilchuck, bizarrely, sounds natural in Laios’ body. Loud and resolute, “That’s so inappropriate!”
“I don’t mind, Chilchuck, really.”
“And don’t say my name with my own voice!”
“Sorry
”
“I wonder how you feel inside.”
Disturbed, you and Chilchuck’s heads turn toward where Laios continues to grope your (his?) chest -- his breaths shortening to gasps and lip sucked between his teeth.
“What’d you just say?” Chilchuck points a shaky finger at Laios.
If Laios finds looking himself in the face strange, he makes no indication. Merely beaming at Chilchuck in his body and shrugging while squeezing your boobs, “Isn’t it so cool that just pollen can swap us so perfectly? Why wouldn’t we try to explore each other’s bodies in a situation like this?”
Chilchuck’s embarrassment makes Laios’ cheeks flare red hot, an annoyed huff spiking past his clenched teeth, “It’ll only make things worse for the party in the long run! Inter-party romance is a terrible idea!”
“It’s not romance, just investigation.”
Before a punch can be thrown from the flustered Chilchuck, you lay a lithe hand on either man’s shoulder (pushing into the back of your mind how strange it is to call a hand smaller than your own yours), “Laios, you have to see how strange that sounds to people not as
 curious as you.”
“But I’ve always wanted to know how your bodies work,” Laios frowns, “I get that we’re all humans, so it's basically the same thing and not as interesting, but when it comes to you two I just can’t help it. I want to know how soft your mouths are and how your joints roll in action,” he then peers specifically at Chilchuck, batting your lashes pathetically, “Especially your body, Chil, since I rarely see you do more than deactivate traps.”
“That’s because that’s my job! I don’t fight!”
“Chilchuck, he’s not judging you,” you move the hand on his shoulder down to his hand, Laios’ large palm massively overwhelming Chilchuck’s -- you’re captivated by the difference, “If Laios had a problem with you not fighting, I’m sure you wouldn’t still be in the party.”
“I just want to know how you both feel,” you could cringe at the sound of your voice saying something so naughty, but for the sake of Laios’ feelings you don’t, “Inside and out.”
“Did you consider how that’d be for us? Having to look our own faces in their face during something like that.”
“Like what? I just want to poke,” Laios stretches your fingers with a wiggle, “Maybe some fingering.”
That’d be more believable if Laios wasn’t such a terrible liar, his tells making your back straightening impossibly and knees buckling. Laios starkly dodges both yours and Chilchuck’s scrutinizing stares.
“We know you better than that. You’ll wanna go all out,” despite your inclination to give Laios the benefit of doubt, you’re forced to nod alongside Chilchuck’s accusation.
“Is that so bad?”
Is it?
You’re not as anatomically intrigued as Laios (at least pretends to be), but you can’t lie to yourself and say the men aren’t attractive. Laios is beefy yet kind, piercing amber eyes and soft blonde hair -- his arms look perfect for holding you down as he impales you with his cock. Chilchuck is slight and nimble, big brown eyes with thick lashes and silver hairs sprinkled through brown locks -- his dominable frame would be easy to ride until he’s got tears in his eyes and pleas flowing from his fussy lips.
“I don’t think so,” you move, stepping over to Laios’ side, “I think it could be worth a try.”
“No way!” Chilchuck glares at you for your betrayal, “There is no chance I’d ever do something so depraved!”
.
.
.
“This is so weird
” Chilchuck whines from Laios’ throat, throwing an arm over his eyes to block out the sight before him.
You, in Chilchuck’s own body, knelt beside Laios occupying your body as you both lick over his flushed erection. Laios seems to show no shyness, eagerly teasing your soft lips across his skin until he’s tonguing the underside. Meanwhile, you’ve got the smoldering head twitching on your tongue -- suckling softly before releasing your lips with a pop and laving the side with attention. Eventually, Laios bores of kitten licks and lowers towards the balls, giving you room to suck his penis into your mouth fully.
Chilchuck winds a hand, larger than he’s used to controlling, through your hair, peeking under his spare arm to watch Laios abuse your likeness. Blinking sweetly and humming while warming his own nuts with gurgled saliva. With advanced hearing, you can make out even the minute sound of Laios’ inferior gag reflex choking on his own balls.
You can also make out the deep rumble of Chilchuck panting and swallowing around his own arousal, lodged in his throat. Hoping to coax out the desire, you relax your gullet and bury your nose against flaxen pubes, making Chilchuck shudder and buck further into your throat.
“Oh, fuck,” he sighs, squeezing tighter around brown hair and shaking out your head before wrenching you back, “Wanna fuck your face.”
If you didn’t want him to as well, you’d be busy pointing out how your face is really his.
Instead, you moan eagerly and let your mouth hang open. Digging blunt nails into the handles on his hips for leverage as Chilchuck snaps into your gaping, velvety mouth. Spit gurgles past the rim of your lips, your sudden super hearing picking up every soft, throaty groan that spills from his chest. Despite his every effort to drown the sounds in kisses with Laios, you hear it -- you even hear how their lips mesh above your head.
Silky moans let out by your own voice, it’s startling. And arousing. Which makes it even more startling.
Chilchuck gasps and huffs abruptly, pulling you back to beat his cock against your puffy, raw lips. His whole body scrunches as broken, spotty moans dribble through him, shooting cum down your throat -- though having to bury his face into Laios’ neck (technically your neck) to avoid seeing his own face swallowing his seed.
With your own voice, heady and ragged with lust, Laios sprawls to the ground with spread legs, “I’m so hot,” he brainlessly bucks up against his roaming hand, eyes snapping to you, “How do you live like this?”
“I’m not horny all the time, Laios!”
Completely bypassing your protest, as per usual, Laios whimpers and undoes your trousers -- tickling a trembling finger down his (your) slit, “I need someone in me, please, please?”
You and Chilchuck stare at each other for a short while, silently debating who would be the one -- with newfound stamina in Laios’ body, Chilchuck could theoretically do it if he felt so greedy. Thankfully, he does not, and reclines beside Laios before pressing kisses into his neck while yanking you over by the belt. With eyes closed, he expertly undoes the pants to pull your brand new cock out.
Calloused, yet warm, hands stroke along your shaft in slow pumps before feeding your (his) tip into Laios.
Yours and Laios’ inexperience at the shared sensation is abundant in how you’re both gasping, sweat-slick messes. Laios wiggles further onto your cock, keening and back arching at the intrusion, while your hands are clammy and shaking on his hips. Your eyes can only stray as high as the breasts before things feel
 weird
 so you choose instead to obsess over the sight of your cock sliding in and out of a soaked cunt. Messy slick glinting in the sunlight, face melting with need, and all rational thought sucked into the tight clench of Laios.
Whining and leisurely thrusting into Laios, you close your eyes to fully absorb the sensations around you. Still, your heightened hearing can pick up the downright obscene gush of your sloppy, wet cunt being fucked open.
Chilchuck lays beside Laios, making you flinch at the unseen act of tracing his fingers around your cock in Laios to gather the splashing wetness before swirling the sodden pads into Laios’ clit.
“Ah!” your voice spikes, Laios grabbing Chilchuck’s wrist as if he could use your dwindling might to bat off his own strength. Chilchuck grins despite himself and continues abusing the bundle of nerves as desperation makes your drilling speed up. Laios wails and bunts eager hips to meet your thrusts, “Ah, ah, ah, ah- so good! This feels amazing!”
Laios presses the hand not clutching Chilchuck’s against your tummy, fingers prodding where cock batters his insides. Huffy little fuck, fuck, oh fucks leaving pouty, raw-bitten lips.
“Does it feel good?” Chilchuck laughs at you both, his sarcasm only being met with varied, broken ‘uh-huh’ responses. A thought brews in his following silence before he reaches up with a spare hand, “How about this, then?”
Suddenly, Laios’ large hand is wrapped around your neck, pressuring the sides to make your head spin.
Oh.
Oh that shouldn’t feel as good as it does.
Sudden restricted air pushes your hammering hips into overdrive, gut fizzling and tightening until you’re certain you’ll combust from the inside. You squeeze bruises into your own hips as you slam into Laios’ pliant body.
“Oh my God,” he suddenly wails from your mouth, “I think I’m- fuck! - am I?” his breath hitches, eyes wide and thighs cinching around your pumping hips, “Oh my God, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum!”
“Do it, then,” Chilchuck snides with lips still pressed to Laios’ neck, rudely pinching his clit, “Cum for us.”
“I’m cumming,” he babbles, throwing his head back, “I’m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m cumming!”
Laios’ complete lack of will obliterates your own, the intense milking of his orgasm around you practically pulling cum from your cock. You gasp under Chilchuck’s choking while stuffing Laios full.
As soon as you’ve pulled Chilchuck’s softening cock out, Laios darts a hand down to finger your abused cunt. Puffy lips parting around curious fingers, thighs twitching at the unwelcomed overstimulation. Mixed cum leaks onto his digits before he accidentally brushes a thumb over his own clit, sending his thighs clenching around his hand as he forces another orgasm from your body.
You blink, suddenly much drowsier than before, and when you open your eyes you’re on the ground. With twitching, aching thighs and a hand between your legs.
Before you can acclimate to the realization you’re returned to your proper body, large hands are spreading your thighs again. Laios dives in, much too excited, and licks along your slit with a seedy groan and pinched brows. As if he’s deriving pure pleasure from sucking your combined release out of your pussy. If anything, the unadulterated oddity and grossness confirms that Laios is, in fact, back in his own body.
“I remember you were needing a little something, big guy,” Chilchuck tiredly slumps against Laios’ side, reaching below the belt to tug Laios’ hardening cock, “Guess you do have a lot of stamina.”
“I wanted to taste it on my fingers before we switched back, but now I can have it on my real tongue,” Laios deliriously giggles, “How lucky is that?”
You’re given no pause to respond before he’s returning to tongue-fucking your spasming hole.
Chilchuck presses lazy kissing along Laios’ flushed skin, jostled slightly when Laios abruptly sits straight, bucking his hips into Chilchuck’s fist as he asks, “Can I cum on you? I want to taste us all together. I need to know- !”
“Fine!” you’re borderline shrieking, sniveling and sobbing in the overstimulation, “Yes, yes, cum on my cunt, Laios. Do whatever you want!”
As if waiting permission, once those words are uttered, Laios spurts across your heated groin. He wastes no time basking in his euphoria before drunkenly lapping up his cum dribbling across your pussy and into yours and Chilchuck’s juices.
“Feral,” Chilchuck notes, smearing the excess sperm across Laios’ thigh and collapsing by your side.
Quicker and more violent than you’d like, another orgasm swells from your tummy to your hips. Thighs clapping against Laios’ ears as his tongue lulls out to sap up your cum. Your nails scrape Laios’ scalp as you wrangle him back when you notice him trying to sink in for more.
“Laios, please!” you tiredly protest.
“Off,” Chilchuck says it short and curt, like training a puppy, as he bats Laios’ head.
Laios lifts his head and drops beside you as well, turning onto his side to stare at you both -- hands curled towards his chest for comfort, “That was fun. We should do it again, but with our normal bodies.”
Unbeknownst to Laios, both you and Chilchuck are passed out and tangled around on another. And unknown to all three of you, Marcille and Senshi are coughing and hacking out a plan to crawl out and search for your group on the hunt for medicinal herbs.
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tojirights · 11 months ago
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Pls, I need Alastor and brat taming. 😭
Fem!reader who acts soo cocky around everyone and tells Alastor she isn’t scared of him only for him to respond “you will be.” and he spanks and overstimulates her until she submits to him. The next day she’s walking round the hotel thoroughly avoiding him bc she’s so embarrassed.
a/n: PFFTTT the brat in me is going wild for this one bestie
buy me a coffee?
tags: 18+ smut, nsfw, spanking, slight choking, over stimulation, brat taming, shadow tentacle use, sliiight ass play/double penetration
"dude you're fuckin' scary..." angel physically shudders when alastor rises from the shadows and appears at your side. you raise an eyebrow before laughing at angel. "for real? look at those fluffy ears and little tail! this is scary?" you reach up and boop his ears, which twitch at your touch. he narrows his glare at you, daring you to test him further. "go on, darling. keep belittling me like that and you will know just how scary i am."
you roll your eyes, locking arms with him as he starts to lead you away from angel and the others. "you're all bark, no bite." you continue to prod, poking his cheek with your finger. "stop it." he warns, and his tone is serious, but you just stick your tongue out at him. "i'm not afraid of you, al." you huff with confidence. reaching the door to your room, he pauses. "oh?" his voice cracks through the radio static for a brief moment, and you feel goosebumps rise on your arms. "is that so?"
even though the look in his eyes has you reconsidering your brave behavior, you stand your ground. "yeah, what's so scary about the radio demon, hm? gonna haunt me while the top 20 pop songs play? or i guess you'd only haunt me over some jazz or someth-" your words catch in your throat when alastor's suddenly pushing you against the door to your bedroom, for anyone walking by to see. "you need to learn your place, little one."
with wide eyes, you look up at him. "what are you doing?" you whisper, glancing around the thankfully empty hallway. alastor easily towers over you, caging you against the door. "you should be afraid of me, sweetheart..." he says, low and breathy against your ear. "i think you just need to learn your lesson, that's all." you're about to protest, your hand flat against his chest but then you feel his lips on your skin and you all but melt. "i don't-" you gasp, alastor's teeth scraping against your neck.
"shhh." alastor's hands slide around your body, opening the door and walking you through it. "alastor..." you swallow, about to challenge him more but his hand wraps around your throat before you can. "not another peep until i say so." your mouth opens as alastor pushes you to the bed, but the tug of your pants and underwear stop you. "w-wait!" you scramble, but alastor just chuckles. "not so tough now, are you?"
he rolls your panties up into a ball and in the process, he can feel the wetness your panties have collected. "if you can't handle it, you're more than welcome to admit to me that you are scared, my darling." he teases, but you hold your ground with a glare. "now, as for your punishment... over my knee." he commands, sounding so natural in this demanding tone. you bite your lip, wiggling further onto the mattress and away from him. when he sighs, you can't help but giggle.
but then there's something wrapping around your ankle and sliding you over to alastor's lap. "h-hey wait, no fair!" you whine when you see his shadow tentacle secured around you. alastor chuckles, another tentacle coming up over your mouth. "tap my leg if it's too much." he whispers, and you know he's giving you an out even after your playful disrespect. but your pussy throbs as you're pulled over his leg, bare ass up and ready for him and you're fully invested in this now.
you shudder when alastor's hand rests on your ass before coming down hard on it with a smack. your shriek is mostly muffled by the shadow acting as a gag, especially as the second hit comes faster than expected. wiggling in his lap, you whine against his restraints until you feel something prodding at your pussy and go completely limp as a shadow starts to slowly push inside of you.
eyes wide, you wriggle in his grasp but it only earns you a smack to your other cheek. "just relax, darling. or are you scared?" he pouts above you, watching the way your body reacts to his every touch. his tentacle eases into you, stretching your cunt in such a way that you're seeing stars already. you moan against your gag, jolting when you're hit once again. alastor's large palm rubs the irritated, bright red skin as his tentacle fucks you in slow, languid strokes.
you're certainly not scared, and alastor is well aware of that fact by the way your pussy squelches with every push of his shadow. he can hear how wet you are without even looking. you gasp when you feel yet another tentacle pressing ever so gently against your ass, just prodding the tight muscle but not threating to enter. your head whips around to look at alastor, eyes wide with a tinge of panic, but alastor's smirk is reassuring.
he may be teaching you a lesson here, but he's not a monster and respects your boundaries after all.
"tapping out, my sweet?" he snickers when your wide eyes drop to a glare once again. "that's what i thought." he hums, another smack hitting your abused skin. he's just toying with your ass, the tip of his shadow just barely edging its way in but the pressure itself is enough to start pushing you towards the edge. and when the tentacle slips passed the tight ring of muscle, you can't stop your orgasm from following quickly after.
every nerve in your body rings as waves of pleasure crash over your, your moans barely muffled by alastor's tentacle over your mouth. you swear you've never cum harder ever, and yet alastor doesn't stop. he's still pumping his shadow in and out of your cunt, spreading your wetness all over your inner thighs and even onto his pants. it's almost too much, the fullness of having both holes played with as well as the feeling of being restrained the way you were.
your eyes well up with tears, overwhelmed with the sheer pleasure coursing through your veins and alastor doesn't seem like he's going to be stopping any time soon unless you tap out.
and you're not a bitch, so tapping out is not an option.
alastor's free hand reaches your other cheek and spreads it apart, giving himself a view of the action in front of him. he'd be lying if he said his cock wasn't throbbing at the sight of his shadow pumping in and out of your slick pussy, prodding your tight ass. you feel so exposed, you can feel his eyes burning through you but that only makes you clench harder. alastor gives your cheek another quick smack and you're a goner once more.
shaking, your second orgasm hits you even harder somehow. your whimpers are barely audible, but loud enough to make alastor groan himself. "fuck, hands and knees, now." he breathes, pushing you off of his lap and quickly undoing his pants just enough to free his aching cock. your restraints are removed, giving you free access to move once more, but you also lose the fullness of the tentacles. its not for long though, as alastor lines his cock up with your leaking pussy
as alastor starts to slide his cock inside, one hand finds your hip while the other pushes your head into the mattress. your thighs shake with every thrust, and your pussy aches from the prior intrustion already but you can't help yourself from pushing back on him. you probably seem desperate, cumming twice already and still eager for more, but alastor has you like putty in his hands. "oooh now see, who's a good little slut, hm?" he coos, fucking into you harder.
you whimper into the blanket, still muffled like earlier but more pronounced now and alastor's ears twitch with every moan. he won't soon forget this little interaction, seeing you so needy and obedient. he smacks each cheek, enjoying your pathetic sounding cries as your body begs for a break. "cum again, darling." alastor grunts, hips slamming into yours in quick strokes. you shake your head, protesting the potential, but alastor's shadow sneaks around your body to play with your clit.
"n-no too much-" you pant, both convulsing with every flick of his tentacle. alastor just clicks his tongue to his teeth. "one more, sweetheart. then, maybe you'll have learned your lesson." you feel every thrust of his cock hitting right against your cervix, your head spinning as alastor works to pull another orgasm from you. "f-fuckk al-" you cry out, pussy pulsing around his cock, tears springing free from the overwhelming pleasure.
alastor's orgasm follows quickly behind you, and he chooses to pull out and paint your reddened ass cheeks with his cum. the red skin, in contrast with the milky white of his seed is a sight he won't soon forget. you whimper with each thick rope of cum hitting your skin before you collapse onto the bed.
you dont remember too much after that, but alastor gets you cleaned up and you're asleep within seconds.
the next day, you walk into the kitchen with your head down. "ah! good morning, sunshine!" alastor chirps, sipping from his coffee cup. you feel everyone's eyes on you, but all you can do is stare at the ground. "shut it, asshole..." you mumble on your way to grab a drink yourself. alastor just smirks. "naww, is someone embarrassed?" he pouts, eyes wide and teasing. "im never talking to you again." you threaten, but alastor hums and ignores your weak threat.
because you're crawling into his bed that night, begging for more.
taglist: @downbadforfictionalppl @karolinda007-blog @the-alastor-simp @batmanmonstarr @lilcupnoodlez @cxrsedwxrlds @murdertrampx @sssandychemd @jellibean2018
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santaasi · 6 months ago
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moth to a flame
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pairing: james potter x black!reader
summary: what could be more forbidden than loving your brother's best friend?
warnings: mdni, 18+, smut with plot (fingering), reader is sirius’s twin sister, james smokes, no use of y/n, english isn’t my first language
word count: 3.7k
a/n: i'm alive! and now i have bachelor degree! it was a hard few month but i survived and decided to try smth new. i've never posted smut before
 sooo idk if it good or not but bc it was in my drafts for a long time now, and i wanted to post smth for u guys
 now it's here. not my best work i think but nevertheless i hope you will like it. have a good time reading <Đ·
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"JAMES FLEAMONT POTTER, STOP IT RIGHT NOW!" 
The Gryffindor dorm was a whirlwind of noise and energy, laughter bouncing off the walls. You lay sprawled on your bed, desperately trying to wriggle free from his bear-like grip. You never understood where James got so much power from. He was an animagus deer, not a bear, damn you. You twisted and kicked in every direction, but his nimble fingers danced over your bare skin, tickling mercilessly and making you shriek with laughter. Time seemed to blur as your best friend’s relentless tickling pulled you away from your herbology test preparations. Your stomach muscles ached from laughing, and your cheeks felt sore from the constant smile etched on your face.
“Jamie, please stop. I'm going to die now," you mumbled without stopping laughing. “Sirius will come soon and there'll be hell to pay” 
After these words, James grinned, loosened his grip, and rolled onto the other half of the bed. His warm brown eyes followed your every move, a gentle intensity in his gaze. He left a light kiss on your cheek before getting out of bed, and you breathed deeply, trying to steady your erratic breaths. You watched as James crossed the room in a few swift strides, heading to the desk and opening the window. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you felt the cool wind slide through the chiffon curtains, a refreshing contrast to your heated skin.
James's fingers, which had been caressing your skin moments ago, moved with deliberate slowness as he took a cigarette from the pack. He clamped it between his teeth, the flame from his lighter casting a brief, warm glow as he lit it. You couldn't tear your eyes away from him. His disheveled curls and rumpled white shirt, with its first few buttons teasingly undone, drew your gaze to his collarbones. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing the veins on his forearms, each one accentuated in the dim light. That familiar, mischievous grin played on his lips, making you believe that James Potter did it all on purpose.
That grin shone on his face as if he had already won the Quidditch Cup against Slytherin. It made your breathing falter again, sending a whole crazy swarm of butterflies dancing in your stomach. You loved that James Potter grin, the playful twinkle in his eyes, and the way he slightly raised his head to exhale cigarette smoke out the window, where the sun was setting. Yeah, you liked everything about James Potter to the point of a stomach ache and an incredibly fast heartbeat in your chest. 
You were the biggest fan of your brother's best friend. Sometimes, it seemed you literally couldn't live without James—without his jokes, his light touches, his gentle whispers in your ear, and those sparkling eyes like two precious stones. However, James probably didn't even know it, thinking of you only as his best friend's little sister.
“Hey you, don't touch my stuff!” you were indignant, watching him run his fingers over the photo that stood on your desk. You saw James roll his eyes, not paying any attention to your words, and take the frame in both hands, studying it carefully.
“It seems you fit in well with our shabby group,” the guy said quietly and looked around. "Everyone likes you, even Mr. Grumpy Peter”
In his hands was a white frame, its edges adorned with delicate gold filigree, cradling a photo captured just a few weeks earlier. In the picture, you and the Marauders are all there, faces lit with joy—Lily’s laughter bright, Marlene’s mischievous grin, and Dorcas’s warm smile. The scene is set in the cozy common room, where you had all gathered around, lost in the delight of silly Muggle games Lily had introduced. The simple pleasure of those games, so different from the usual weight of family troubles, offered a rare warmth and comfort. You hold this photo close, a cherished relic of laughter and friendship, its presence a bittersweet reminder of how much you missed Sirius when he left you and the rest of the family behind. 
You were profoundly grateful to the entire gang for the chance to be reunited with your twin brother. It was a rare gift to once again be enveloped in his care and protection, to bask in his unwavering love. Your bond with Sirius had always been a delicate thread, frayed by circumstance. The divide between Slytherin and Gryffindor had severed your Hogwarts communication, yet at home, he remained your cherished brother. Though he could be infuriating at times, he was always a steadfast presence, an integral part of your very being.
But the rift deepened when his conflicts with your parents escalated, leaving you unwillingly caught in the crossfire. Sirius's bitterness led him to view you and Regulus as traitors, and then, when he departed, the bond between you was irrevocably severed. It felt as if a piece of your soul had been torn away with him, leaving life in the cold, shadowy manor utterly unbearable.
Then Lily’s intervention restored a semblance of normality. Sirius’s familiar gesture—ruffling your hair in the hallway, calling you "pearl," and flashing that familiar, mischievous smile—was a balm to your wounded heart. Even though a part of you grappled with guilt over maintaining your connection with Sirius while feeling disloyal to Regulus, you couldn't bear to be without your twin. And now, life seemed also incomplete without his cheeky Quidditch captain friend, James Potter, who had become an unexpected but welcome fixture in your world.
“What ‘bout you?” 
The words came out of your mouth before you could think them through. You nervously bit your lower lip, your gaze fixated on James as he methodically extinguished his cigarette, leaving the window ajar. His movements were slow and deliberate as he slid his hands into his trouser pockets and made his way towards the bed. Each step seemed to draw him closer to you, the mattress sinking slightly under his weight as he settled next to your feet.
You shifted uneasily, trying to maintain some distance, but James’s presence was undeniable. Your heart raced with every inch he came nearer. When he finally reached out, his hand gently caressed your cheek, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The faint, lingering scent of smoke began to weave its way into your senses, adding to the tension that filled the room.
“What ‘bout me, lovely?” He said softly.
His hot breath scorched your neck as James tilted his head slightly to the side. Your eyelashes fluttered and a soft sigh escaped your lips. You could feel the blush rising up your neck and stopping on your cheeks. You've never considered yourself the one who could melt at the sight of a guy
 You have always been sure that you are a tough nut to crack and the path to your heart is not easy and thorny. But as soon as James Potter came into your life, sat so close to you and looked at you with his big chocolate eyes, you became a puddle in his hands and there was nothing you could do about it.
It was unbearable to have feelings for James Potter, the school’s shining star, who was constantly surrounded by a throng of admirers vying for his attention. But the situation was even more agonizing knowing that James was your brother's closest friend, the one who had rescued him from the chaos of your family, the brother Sirius had chosen as family.
Despite the unbreakable bond you shared with Sirius, and the way you two were as inseparable as a single machine, you never broached this subject with him. Why? Because you had seen and heard countless stories from friends and acquaintances whose relationships with their siblings’ best friends ended in resentment and discord. You understood the underlying issue all too well: no one wanted to be caught in the crossfire of a breakup between a family member and a closest friend.
For Sirius, the situation would be even more complex. You couldn’t imagine being forced to choose between your twin brother—who was half of you—and your closest friend. It was a choice you knew you could never make, and that realization only deepened the anguish of your feelings for James.
That’s why you remained silent, burying your feelings deep within yourself. Whenever you spent time together, you made a conscious effort to keep your distance from James, but it never seemed to work. With every encounter, your feelings for the Quidditch captain grew stronger, more consuming. Lately, however, it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep everything bottled up. Listening to stories about his snogs was tormenting. Watching him flirt and interact with others was a growing source of anguish. You felt yourself unraveling under the weight of it all.
You licked your dry lips, drawing in a shaky breath, and cast your eyes downward before murmuring, barely audible.
"I-uh... do you like me?"
Your voice trembled, faltering until, by the end, your words dissolved into nothing more than a breathy whisper, a stream of air that barely formed a coherent sentence. And you would have died of shame on the spot if it hadn't been for James's thumb stroking your hot cheek soothingly. His gaze slid over your face, carefully, as if under a microscope, studying every detail that seemed to have already learned everything during these couple of months of your close communication. You were so beautiful with those confused eyes, and halting breathing, and that scar showing above your eyebrow when you frowned. You were divine. 
James, having endured relentless teasing from his friends about his feelings for Lily, believed he was as transparent as an open book. He thought that all his innocent touches, lingering glances, and heartfelt compliments had not gone unnoticed by you, and that you were fully aware of how he felt. He was almost certain of it. But now, as he gazed into your wide, bewildered eyes—eyes that looked at him with a mix of adoration and anxiety—he realized he might not have been as obvious as he’d thought.
You nervously bit your lip and fidgeted with the rings on your fingers, and James couldn't help but chuckle softly, shaking his head. His gaze briefly lingered on your lips, and he was consumed by a longing to taste them. When he looked back up, he stared straight into the depths of your soul, searching for the truth that lay hidden within.
“I thought you knew the answer.
 Everyone knows
”
You blinked a few times, nervously swallowing the lump that was beginning to tighten in your throat. James Potter was far too close, encroaching on your personal space in a way that made your heart race and your breath catch. You slowly raised your eyes, trying to come up with some clever answer or make a joke of everything, just not to feel this shame and misunderstanding, just to stop this war in your head. But before you could make a sound, you were on your back again. A surprised sigh escaped your lips when you saw James's smiling face looming over you. His palm rested on your waist, gently squeezing the soft flesh exposed under your shirt. 
"Do you want to know the answer, angel?" James asked slowly, bending forward slightly and stretching out each word. His voice was soft and sweet like honey, making goosebumps cover your body. 
"Only if I... like it," you whispered softly to him in response, blinking your eyes in surprise, feeling your eyelashes tickle your cheeks. 
You felt the ghostly brush of his lips against your temple, then your cheekbone, your cheek, and finally the corner of your lips. James Potter's teasing touch was driving you wild. Your hands instinctively clenched the fabric of his shirt in tight fists as you closed your eyes, a soft whimper escaping your lips. His kiss lingered on your chin before trailing down to your neck, sending shivers down your spine.
“James...” you exhaled, parting your lips as a shiver of impatience rippled through your body. Your fists tightened on his shirt, pulling him closer, desperately craving the contact you longed for. James's laugh came out in a low, throaty sound, and you pouted, frustrated by his playful teasing. But before you could voice your discontent, his lips met yours, pulling you into a tender, sweet kiss that made all your frustrations melt away.
Kissing James Potter was as enchanting as you’d imagined, if not more so. His lips, softened by your cherry balm, carried a lingering taste of cherries, mingling with hints of cigarettes, fresh herbs, and even chocolate—the same chocolates you’d savored just moments before, before James had playfully wrested the last one from you. Where had it gone now?
Your hands gently released his shirt, moving up to his shoulders, fingers threading through his tousled curls and drawing him nearer. You felt a delightful shiver on your lips as James exhaled a satisfied sigh and nibbled on your lower lip. You giggled softly, your fingers tangling further in his hair, pulling him even closer, savoring every second of the sweet, intoxicating kiss. James squeezed your waist a little tighter before reaching under your shirt. His fingers closed around your chest and you moaned softly into his lips, arching your back to meet him.
James slipped his knee between your legs, and you gently moved your hips, feeling the already wet fabric of your panties slide over the stiff material of his pants. James's lips moved lower, covering your neck with kisses, giving you time to catch your breath.
“Jamie... James... don't,” you whispered breathlessly with pleasure. His lips touched your sweet spot behind your ear and you moaned softly. James Potter will be the end of you. 
“Yeah,” James said confidently in the area of your collarbone, quickly unbuttoning the buttons of your white dress shirt. James looked up at you for a second and you frowned slightly, not understanding what he was talking about. “Yes,” he repeated, looking you straight in the eye. “Yes, I like you, angel. Ever since you blew up our amortentia at potions,” you felt the vibration of his laughter on your neck when he left another kiss. 
“But... but that was in the third year...” you whispered, not believing him. James liked Lily at that time, and probably still does. Sirius and Peter often joke that

“Hmm...” James mumbled in agreement, moving lower, leaving light kisses on both of your breasts. "I couldn't confess ‘cause Sirius is my friend... you're his lil’ sister... and I was a fuckin’ thirteen-year-old loser who was afraid to even look in your direction." 
You laughed softly, sliding your fingers through his hair, lightly scratching the skin of his head. James's hot breath burned your skin as his lips moved lower and lower down your body. Every new kiss is a new place. The cleavage. The ribs. Belly. Bellybutton. 
"And then Lily brought you to us... and I couldn't just watch anymore... when you were so close... so beautiful... gentle... sweet..." James's lips touched the bottom of your stomach, and his fingers gently slipped under the elastic band of your skirt. But before he could pull it down your trembling legs, you grabbed his face with both hands, lifting it higher, connecting your lips. James Potter could resist anything, but not you. He could never resist you. 
Kissing James Potter was like soaring through the sky, a rush of air that caressed your skin with a tantalizing chill. It was like the first warm summer rain, gently gliding through your hair, or the sun's rays breaking through after a long, cold winter, warming the earth with their tender touch. His kisses were like the living water from fairy tales—revitalizing and magical, making you breathe deeply and revel in the pure joy of the moment.
“As much as I would like to continue, but James...” you kissed his lips again, looking into his frowning eyes. Your hands gently stroked his cheeks, feeling a slight tingle from his growing stubble. "Sirius is coming soon and I... I don't want him to find us in such a-... such a compromising position." You blushed fiercely, your cheeks turning as red as a ripe tomato, and James’s laughter rang out once more. He leaned in to kiss you savoringly on the cheek, his touch both tender and playful.
His hand was gently stroking your stomach, and his knee was still moving slowly between your legs. You exhaled noisily, throwing your head back on the pillow, breathing heavily. Hips involuntarily moved to meet him and you squeezed his biceps with your hand. You whimpered when the pleasure became almost unbearable, when you wanted to feel something more.
“I think you're enjoying yourself too much, angel,” James whispered next to your ear, nibbling on your neck. You felt his hand slip through the elastic of your skirt, barely touching your pelvis. “Who am I to deprive you of this pleasure, pretty girl?”
You squeezed your eyes shut when James's fingers slid into your panties, gently tracing between your folds, smearing your arousal. 
“Merlin... Jamie,” you muttered in a trembling voice, moving your hips towards his hands. You heard James chuckle, leaving kisses on your neck and collarbone. You were one hundred percent sure that his marks would remain in these places. And you would have objected if it weren't for the feelings that made you forget about everything. You moaned when his finger slipped inside your dripping hole. Your eyes opened and you met his brown ones, James left a gentle kiss on your lips.
“Yeah, look at me, angel,” James said hoarsely. “I want to see how good I make you feel” 
You meowed and nodded, unable to say anything to him. His finger slowly slid inside your gummy walls, hitting that very spot, making you roll your eyes in pleasure. But you kept looking at him. 
"Jamie... more," you said faintly, and he laughed, adding another finger, twitching an eyebrow, asking, "Is that better?" 
You nodded your head, feeling a surge of euphoria. You've never felt anything like this before. Your fingers have never been so skillful and long to reach the cherished place that they make your whole gut cry with desire. James gradually increased the pace, making you moan softly, clinging to his shirt. You looked into his eyes, feeling them devour and memorize every emotion that slipped across your face. Enjoying your pleasure. His thumb slid over your clit in soft circular movements, and your body arched towards him with pleasure. You could feel the knot of pleasure tightening within you, on the verge of breaking free. Your eyes fluttered rapidly, and your lips parted in silent wonder. You tried to form words, but only soft, breathless moans escaped, betraying the intensity of the sensation.
“I know angel... just let go,” James whispered in your ear, and it snapped the last thread that was holding you back. You closed your eyes, moaning louder than before, feeling like you were coming. James was whispering something in your ear, continuing to pump his fingers through your orgasm, but you were over the moon with pleasure to attach any importance to it.
And a moment after it you felt empty. Breathing heavily, you turned your closed eyes to the guy who was grinning at you, licking your release off his fingers. You ran your hand tenderly over his cheek, trailing down to his neck, gently guiding him closer. Your body felt almost unresponsive, but your need to kiss him was overwhelming. You wanted to feel him, to lose yourself in the connection. As his lips met yours, you relaxed into the kiss, parting your lips lazily and letting James take the lead, savoring every moment. You could still feel the sweet taste of your juice on his lips and it made your heart flutter faster, giving reality to what was happening. 
Your hand slowly slid from his shoulder lower to his chest, then to his torso and slightly lower, gently touching the buckle of his belt, but before you could even make an attempt to undo it, James grabbed your hands in his and pulled them away, shaking his head. You frowned, not understanding why he doesn't want you to bring him the same pleasure as he gives you. You wanted to please him. You wanted to do it for him. 
“Not today, angel.” He kissed your knuckles, kneeling next to you. You sat up in front of him, your lower lip trembling as his hands began to button your shirt. You sniffed, not understanding what was going on. He wanted it as much as you did, didn't he? 
Seeing your expression, James immediately cupped your cheeks in his hands and shook his head. 
“I want you, beauty. Merlin, lovely... more than anything in this world, I want to take you right here and now.” James laughed hoarsely, shaking his head. “But like you said, I don't want Sirius or anyone else to get in the way, do I?” you were still pouting, blinking your eyes. James kissed you and joined your foreheads, looking into your eyes. "I promise I'll make it up to you, but later, ‘kay?" 
“Okay,” you nodded, reaching for his lips once more. Having tasted James Potter, you felt an insatiable craving for more. With a playful smile, he pulled you closer, and you shifted to straddle him on the bed. His laughter rang out as he placed his hands on your hips, giving them a gentle squeeze. Your hands wandered slowly over his chest, savoring the moment.
“So, there will be a next time?” you asked, playfully biting your lip. Before he could respond, you leaned in and kissed him, cutting off any potential answer.
You didn’t need a reply. In his eyes, you saw the same fiery intensity that drew you in like a moth to a flame. Now, James was the moth flying straight into your blaze. After tonight, there would be no turning back for either of you—both consumed by a fire that would burn without end.
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thankx for reading <3
for all my lovelies who are waiting for james fluff i’m currently working on some fluffy stuff, so stay tuned!
and as always, you can share your opinion in comments or my inbox :3
- your santi đŸȘ
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papaya-twinks · 7 months ago
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Okay so what about Lando dressing all slutty at the club and then reader getting triggered because lets be for real, we all are. And then when they get back home he takes her against the wall? Like rough and hard? Idk I don’t do this a lot đŸ«Ł Sorry if this is weird, have a good day
Warnings: Smut, 18+, praise, degradation, brattiness, spanking, choking
Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader
Lando had never looked this good in his entire life. Well, you thought that, like, about every outfit. But this one. The white button-up shirt, open at the top, revealing his necklaces and a cross chain on his bare, tan chest. Fuck, you’d need that cross for forgive you for all those unholy thoughts in your head. 
He deserved the party, after his race, but you wanted nothing more than for him to grab you by your neck and pump you full of him. So you were forced to sit on the little sofa in the club, his arm round your neck casually as he talked to Max and other drivers, blissfully unaware of the heat pooling between your legs. 
“You good? You keep wriggling,” Lando asked, interrupting his own conversation with Max. “Yeah, just wanna go home,” you mumbled, looking at the floor firmly. “Hey. You feeling. Sick or something? You ill?” he asked, worried. You didn’t say anything, shooting him a look which spoke many words. “Horny,” he said, the ghost of a smirk approaching his lips.
You nodded, cheeks flushing as he stood up. “Sorry, guys, got a little thing to do,” Lando said, faking an apology, his arm round your waist. “Hm, let me guess, the thing you gotta do is Y/N?” Max snorted, rolling his eyes as Lando scoffed. “And what?”. Lando led you to the car, opening the passenger door for you, his hand gliding over the curves of your ass in the process, before he sat in his own seat.
 “Needy, hm?” he grinned as your hand came to his thigh, tugging at his belt. An incoherent mumble left your lips at his words, his hand coming to yours and pulling you off. “Wait,” was all he said, pushing your hands away. You whined, trying to move your hands back, but he didn’t let you, starting up the car and driving. The entire journey, his hand was on your thigh, stroking the soft skin, your eyes closed. 
Finally, you rolled into the driveway, Lando’s hand on your hip as he led you in, his grasp firm on you. As soon as he stepped into the house, he pushed you against the door, locking it behind you, his hand on your neck, squeezing softly. “Made me end my party early,” he whispered in your ear, teeth playing along your neck. “I was having fun,” Lando added, teeth tugging at your earlobe. 
A soft moan left your lips at the sensation, his hand coming to cup your tit in your minidress, the other one trailing along the hem. “Fuck, you’re soaking,” he raised an eyebrow, finger playing against you from your thong. “Lando,” you gasped, the slightest touch of him already sending you feral. “I’m not taking you against the front door,” he commented, taking your hand. 
You’d probably cum right there and then by the time you got to the bedroom, so he led you to the kitchen, sitting you on the counter. “Alright, baby,” Lando said, a look of triumph on his face. “You’re a desperate one, aren’t you?” he snorted, lifting your dress over your head. You leaned down to remove your platform heels, but Lando stopped you. 
“Keep them on,” he said, throwing your legs over his shoulders as he leaned down, teeth grazing your damp thong. You didn’t even try and stop the filthy moan that escaped your lips at the feeling, his hand holding both your wrists to the surface of the counter top. You shrieked, bucking your hips upwards as he moved your thong to the side, tongue flicking against your clit, lips coating in your juices. 
“Don’t,” he warned, pulling off of you, a groan leaving your lips. His hands came to your bare stomach, lifting you into his arms, as he walked up the stairs, your lips sucking and tugging at the skin of his neck. A shriek left your mouth as he threw you roughly onto the bed, taking his shirt off in one tug, pulling you against him by your thighs. 
Your legs were once again thrown over his shoulders, your soaked throng pressed to his crotch. A groan left his lips at the feeling, eyes wide at your ass against his stomach. You couldn’t help but roll your hips slightly against him, making him frown and raise an eyebrow. 
“Did I say to do that?” he pushed on your hip, his hand coming to your neck, the other unbuckling his pants. You gasped as his cock sprung against his abdomen, a thick vein throbbing along the underside. Lando moved his hand from your throat, bringing it to his dick, the other hand cupping yours bring it to his length. He was heavy on your hand, twitching at the feeling of your soft hands. 
“Fuck Y/N,” he groaned, pushing your hand up and down his cock, his other hand pulling you forwards on your hands and knees. “Open,” he demanded, pushing his thumb against the roof of your mouth. You obeyed, parting your lips, only for him to frown. “You’ve had me in your mouth multiple times,” he leaned forwards, wrapping your hair round his large hand, “long enough to know that’s not big enough for me,”. 
You nodded, parting your lips further, as you felt him push the head of his dick against your lips. One hand in your hair, Lando placed the other on your cheek, running his finger over the lump in your throat. Your eyes half-rolled as his length forced your mouth open, his throbbing tip hitting the back of your throat at an ever increasing pace. 
“Fuck Y/N,” he held your head still, pushing in a few times, his groans filthy as he did so, before he pulled out, your gags lost in the heated, passionate kiss he pulled you into. “Lando,” you gasped, his finger playing at your clothed clit. “Mmm? You like that?” he cooed, hands coming to grip your thighs, pulling you onto his lap. 
You didn’t expect his fingers to sink into you as you straddled him, his digits long and thick. “Lando,” you gasped as he added another finger, his thumb stroking at your clit. “Oh fuck,” you moaned, his fingers curling inside of you, your back half-arching at the feeling. 
“Lift,” he commanded, raiding your body, before aligning his cock with you. He stood against the edge of the bed, your legs over his shoulder, his hand pinning your wrists down as you groaned, his cock stretching you wider. “Fuck Lan,” you mumbled, clutching at air as the bump formed in your stomach. 
“You don’t ever stop moving, do you?” he growled, lifting you up, sliding out of you despite your protests. You shrieked as he pressed your body against a wall, your back on the cold beige walls, his hands groping at your tits. You felt his arms snake round your waist, lifting you against the walls firmly, your legs still over his shoulders.
“Lando!” you shrieked as he pushed in, your legs swinging up and down with his motions. This was one of your favourite ways you had was with Lando - when he held you up effortlessly, fucking you upwards, rough and fast. Your head lolled slightly, his other hand moving from your waist to your chin to roughly bring you back.
“Look at me,” he groaned, both hands slapping onto your ass as you half shrieked, half moaned. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” he asked, eyes trailing over your figure as he slammed upwards into you, your body shaking with each movement. “Got a fucking bump, hm?” his eyes fell to your stomach, his cock bulging through your body as he slammed into you.
You felt the knot in your stomach unravelling at his rapit pace, your hands clutching at his curls as he chuckled. “Gonna cum for me, hm?” he asked, cradling your cheek softly. That was one thing he loved to do. Ask you questions whilst he knew you couldn’t answer. Make you tell him what you were doing, or how you felt. It was hot, he could have that.
“Lando!” you moaned, your eyes rolling as you felt yourself come undone, his orgasm following shortly. “Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, head thrown back as he bucked his hips into you, his thrusts sloppy and wasted. “Fuck,” he mumbled again, hands tangling in your hair as he pulled you into a heated kiss.
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acmelxvr · 2 months ago
Text
An Excellent Pairing (18+)
Pairing: Lucanis Dellamorte x Viago de Riva x Rook
Summary: When Lucanis discovers that Rook and Viago's relationship goes beyond that of a normal Crow and her Talon, he throws caution to the wind and indulges himself for one night only; surely that will be enough to satiate him for the rest of his days. However, he's surprised when he finds that they want to indulge him too.
Genre/Tags: Explicit, FMM Threesome, Not Canon Compliant, Out of Character, Dom/Sub, Accidental Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Orgasm Denial, Orgasm Control, Slight Humiliation, Crying, Brat Taming if you squint, Face-Fucking, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Pussy Play, Aftercare, Creampie, Double Penetration, Overstimulation, Talk of Premature Ejaculation, Cum Eating, Gagging, Hair-pulling, Masturbation, Mild Choking, Clit Slapping, Begging, Slight Breeding, Virgin!Lucanis, Bottom!Lucanis, Top!Viago, Viago cannot SHUT UP during sex, Rook is a Cis Female
Word Count: ~12,000
Notes: Entirely self indulgent and a beast to finish. Good lord, just take a look at those tags.
Tagged as Not Canon Compliant because it doesn't really follow that whole "crow families are like real families" BS. Also tagged as Out of Character because I think Lucanis and Viago would (probably) rather gargle rusty nails than ever have non-monogamous sex. And Viago is definitely not cool enough to do half of the things he does here. But this is MY fic and damn it I want these three to fuck!!!!
I'm on Twitter and AO3 as @acmelxvr
You can read this on AO3 if you'd like to here
MDNI!!!!
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When Lucanis wakes up, he finds himself in the Eluvian Room with a hand already through the mirror. He jumps, cursing out loud as Spite fills his head with his incessant yammering. “I want. To leave!” The shriek pulses in his ears, causing Lucanis’ headache to worsen with each passing second.
“I have a contract.” Lucanis starts. He turns to go back up the stairs, but Spite rages against his prison inside Lucanis’ head, causing him to fall to his knees.
“LEAVE!”
“You are impossible!” Lucanis says through gritted teeth. “We will leave. As soon as the contract is completed.” The idea of being away from Rook makes Lucanis’ heart drop, but he pushes the feeling down as he stands back up. He expects the demon to argue, but only hears a snarl as Spite retreats to the deepest recesses of his mind. He sighs, in relief and in exhaustion, knowing that Spite will simply try again once Lucanis falls asleep.
He resigns himself to walking around The Lighthouse for the night, although day and night are indistinguishable here. There are moments where everyone feels the call of sleep around the same time, but the light of The Fade does not change; a mutual agreement between all parties to leave each other alone for a few hours, one that Spite violates frequently.
Lucanis thrums his fingers against the many book spines in the library. Some are clearly from when Solas was the main inhabitant of this place, the pages thinned from wear and centuries long use, with writing in the margins from the same signature, “F”. The newer books, placed amongst the shelves by Bellara and Emmrich, brightly stand out against the old tombs. Lucanis is about to grab one, a pirate romance on the high seas, that Emmrich graciously found for him when he notices how the light from Rook’s room seeps into the library from the ajar door. 
Lucanis wants to go inside and talk to her under the guise of avoiding sleep, but thinks better of it. “I won’t disturb her. She might be doing something important.” He whispers to himself. Spite appears again, much to the chagrin of Lucanis.
“I want. To talk. To ROOK!” he snarls. Lucanis tilts his head to the side, trying to block out the demon. Once Spite starts chanting his request, Lucanis holds up a hand.
“I will indulge you this time. If you allow me to sleep after. Deal?” Spite nods excitedly.
Lucanis approaches Rook’s room, the light seeping from the door dancing around, so at least Rook is actually awake. His crow training demands that he never makes a sound as he moves, even in the supposed safety of The Lighthouse. Lucanis has noticed Rook does the same; the steps are different, but the crows move to the same waltz. 
Lucanis pauses his approach when he hears Rook’s groan muffled by something. He quickens his step, his heart hammering at the thought of Rook being in danger, but his voice catches in his throat when he realizes that Rook is not alone willingly. 
“You get to breathe when I say. And I swear, if you touch yourself I will make you regret it.” Viago’s tone is stern.
Viago.
Viago?
Lucanis’ head swarms with a million questions all at the same time. While he knew Rook and Viago were unusually close for a Talon and a regular crow in the same house, this goes beyond that. Talons do not fuck their crows, lest the opportunity to be lethally replaced presents itself. Not only that but Viago is
Viago. Uptight. Particular. Ruthless. Most rumors about each of the talons are exaggerated, but Lucanis knows that Viago’s reputation is rightfully earned. Everything said about him is completely true. So how has Lucanis not heard of this yet?
He reflects on the moments spent in the Cantori Diamond as Rook, Teia, Viago, and Lucanis worked to free Treviso from the Antaam’s grip. Were there stolen glances that Lucanis wasn’t privy to? Is this why Viago seemed more offended than the others when Rook’s slip-up was mentioned? How long has this been going on? 
Can he join?
Lucanis cringes at the last thought, his sleep deprived state allowing him to think things he otherwise wouldn’t dare to. He’s interrupted again when he hears a wet pop, and Lucanis can’t help but take a step closer to the door. “Please.” Rook moans, only to be silenced again by a growl from Viago. 
“Begging is a good look on you.” Viago says. Lucanis can hear his tip hit the back of Rook’s throat as she gags. The embarrassment that sat in Lucanis’ stomach has now dropped lower, melting into ashamed arousal. “You haven’t earned it yet, though.” Lucanis knows he should turn around right now and head back to the pantry, before he hears even more sounds he’ll never erase from his head. But as he takes another step towards Rook’s room, he’s palming himself through his pants and almost groans at the unreleased tension.
Lucanis has only dreamed about this situation, although never with the two objects of his desires together. He can’t decide if he’ll want to be in Rook’s position or Viago’s when he recalls this in private later. There’s the added layer of jealousy, too; that the two people he’s only ever flirted with can somehow fuck each other so easily, but not him. Is that what he wants from them? A quick fuck, one without feelings? Is that what they’re doing right now, or is it something more? A stolen moment between two lovers or two friends relieving stress?
Viago lets Rook up for air once again. “Viago, please
” Rook trails off, moaning as she takes Viago into her mouth again. Lucanis is a foot away from the door now, his cheeks burning hot as he presses against the wall, not daring to break the final barrier of actually looking inside and searing the visual component of this encounter into his head.
Viago hums in thought. “You look so beautiful like this. On your knees, crying with your lips around me.” Another growl, and Lucanis can discern that Viago has grabbed Rook by the hair and pulled her off. “Have you learned your lesson?” Lucanis can’t remember when he lowered his pants, but now his cock is firm within his grasp.
“Yes, sir. I have.”
Sir? Lucanis twitches at the title. His brows knit together in concentration as Viago chuckles. “Good girl.” Lucanis twitches again. “On the bed, on your knees.” 
This is a side of Viago that Lucanis can’t even fathom exists. Viago usually has the disposition of a wet cat: a bit scary from afar, but pathetic and charming in his own way once you get close enough. Lucanis always thought that the man was extremely talented in what he did, but similar to himself in that they usually killed targets first to avoid having to turn on their lacking charms. He loses his train of thought when he hears Viago’s whispers meant only for Rook’s ears. Clearly, Lucanis had read the man very wrong.
He’ll watch just this once. One time will be enough to sustain him for the rest of his days. He rationalizes it by noting that two crows should know to at least close the door if they don’t want to be interrupted. He’s walked by Rook’s door dozens of times in the hopes she’s standing outside only to find it closed. She knows how to close doors, right?
LOOK. Spite whispers in the back of Lucanis’ mind. He smears the pre cum leaking from his tip onto his palm, snarling at Spite’s interference. He hears a smack from inside Rook’s room and she whimpers.
LOOK!
Lucanis tears his eyes open and moves to occupy the small opening from the door. As he focuses his sight despite the dim lighting, he finds Viago and Rook on the small chaise in the middle of the room. Viago has one hand on her hip and the other wrapped around her neck, pulling Rook up against his chest. Lucanis examines Viago’s bare fingers, the first time he’s seen them without a pair of gloves on. They’re long, and covered in slick. Lucanis is unsure whose. His hair, which is usually brushed back neatly, has curled back to the look Viago had in his younger days, the thick black strands slightly stuck to his forehead with sweat. 
Rook whines as Viago rubs her clit with his tip, which earns her another slap to her ass. Her breasts are covered in purple splotches, some peeking through Viago’s hand on her neck. She’s also sweaty, but the sweat is mixed with her tears, her makeup running down her face and leaving black streaks in their wake. Viago’s grip tightens, his fingers pressing against her windpipe as he begins to slowly stretch her cunt. 
If this was the last thing Lucanis ever saw, he could die happy.
Lucanis matches his strokes with Viago’s pace which is achingly slow. He pulls all the way out, stops for a moment, then takes his time filling Rook up again. She covers her mouth with her hands as her moans increase in volume, but Viago is quick to tut at this. “Let them hear you.” He’s the perfect picture of control, the only indication of his impending orgasm being how his stomach tightens whenever he’s fully inside of her.
“What about–”
“Lucanis?” Viago draws out the assassin’s name as he moves the hand that occupied Rook’s hip to her clitoris, beginning to rub small circles around the bundle of nerves. She yelps, her eyes rolling back into her head in pleasure. Lucanis almost retreats at the mention of his name, but can’t bring himself to as his own hips buck into his hand. “I bet you’d like it if he watched us, wouldn’t you?” Rook nods, but Viago stops completely and begins to pull out. “Use your words.”
She whines at the sudden lack of movement, her eyes welling with tears again. “Y-yes, I would. Sir.” Viago nods approvingly, and resumes his agonizing pace. Lucanis’ heavy stare flits back and forth between the two, watching as Rook’s face contorts just so as Viago hits a spot inside her only he is aware of, his hips snapping against her. Viago is relentless; his middle and ring finger making Rook gush around him even as she begins to shake and attempt to swat his hand away. “It’s too much, Viago–”
“You can take it.” Viago’s other hand lets go of Rook’s neck, making her lean against him for support. He pinches her nipple and rolls it between his fingertips. “Just a bit longer till we can come together. You want that, right?” Rook incoherently babbles, nodding her head back against Viago’s shoulder while he smiles. “Of course you do.” 
Lucanis surmises that they’ve been at this for hours, at least. The way Rook is practically fucked out of her mind, tears streaming down her face while Viago pleasures her, has Lucanis’ thighs flexing in anticipation of his own orgasm. Viago looks down at his fingers that seem to be moving with a mind of their own and bites his lip, emitting a low groan into the crook of Rook’s neck while he kisses the bruised bite marks. Lucanis’ speed picks up along with Viago’s, both men beginning to lose control.
When Lucanis returns his attention to Rook, he gasps when he sees her eyes blown out wide looking back at him. 
The arousal that teetered into release flips into shame, his perverted viewing caught by the one woman he tried to keep away. He refuses to look or run away, at least giving her the grace of facing the consequences of his intrusion head on. Viago is blissfully unaware, completely lost in the crushing warmth of Rook’s insides. Rook is silent for one moment, her half-lidded stare holding Lucanis’ as Viago pistons away.
Then, she smiles, raises an arm to grab Viago’s hair, and tugs.
Viago growls, making Lucanis’ cock jump on its own. Rook nods, slight enough so Viago won’t notice, but perceptible enough that Lucanis’ heart flips when he starts touching himself again with Rook’s approval. “You are impossible.” Viago slaps Rook’s clit, making her jump and pull on his hair again.
“Please, Viago–” The way she whines makes Lucanis and Viago shake their heads at the same time, trying to put off their orgasms for a bit longer.
“Say my name one more time, and I swear to the Maker I will breed you till you see stars.” Lucanis goes slack jawed. Viago’s rhythm becomes erratic as he finally, finally, reaches his release. Rook’s entire body is shaking, and she draws blood from her bottom lip as she bites down.
“Viago–” She doesn’t even finish her sentence, the fifth talon moving his hand to her stomach as he adds pressure underneath her navel. It’s enough to put the trio all over the edge at the same time. 
Lucanis spills into his hand, his hips rutting into the air as he lifts his shirt over his abdomen to avoid a mess. It takes everything in him not to join the pair in their cacophony of moans, Viago especially as he twitches deep inside of Rook, making sure not a drop of his cum drips out of her. Rook’s thighs press in as her own orgasm rushes over her, Viago’s fingers slowly bringing Rook down from the edge. When the drum of his blood pumping finally subsides, Lucanis can hear the pair once again.
Viago still has not pulled out, but moves both hands to Rook’s waist and slowly leans her down, allowing her to rest her head against the back of the chaise. He supports her weight fully, his arms flexing as he holds her up, and Viago bends down momentarily to press a kiss between her shoulder blades. “Good job.” He murmurs against her skin, his usual stoic disposition returning and becoming the man that Lucanis thought he was. Rook lazily opens one eye towards the door, and has to hide a smile when she sees that Lucanis is still watching them. 
Viago’s arms wrap around Rook’s stomach, and she giggles. “You should know by now that that tickles.” Viago doesn’t move, his beard and mustache rubbing against Rook’s back. “And that does too! I’m very sensitive right now, you know.” Viago relents and pulls out, earning a content sigh from Rook as she lays down, out of Lucanis’ view. He moves to Rook’s bedside table, still naked, and retrieves a towel. They’ve done this before. They’ve done this before, here.
“And whose fault is that?” Viago wipes some of the sweat away from his forehead and then Rook’s. Here, in the perceived privacy, his shoulders drop some of the tension he seems to be holding all the time. He smiles more easily as he banters with Rook, and doesn’t get dressed immediately as he sits down on the cushions near Rook’s feet and lazily drapes an arm over the couch. Lucanis hears Rook groan and sees her stretch her arms out, then her legs, moving them over Viago’s thighs. “Have you heard of a thing called personal space?” Viago asks.
Lucanis zips his pants up and slowly steps away, careful to not alert Viago of his presence. “You just came inside me! You don’t get to complain about me violating your personal space!” The last thing Lucanis hears before he escapes back to the library, and then to the pantry, is a shared laugh between the crow and the talon.
The morning after, Lucanis leans over his breakfast and stirs his coffee absentmindedly. His mind keeps flashing back to Viago and Rook. How they looked so good together. How their bodies fit together perfectly, how Lucanis could fit in between.
“Lucanis?” The assassin jumps and drops the spoon he was holding. Bellara is quick to pick the utensil up for him and wipe it on her pants.  “Oh, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have– You seemed so–” 
“It’s alright, Bellara. Just tired.” He waves her concerns away, trying his best to remain in this moment and not last night’s.
“Right, well, Rook needs us in Treviso today.” Lucanis’ flexes his hands, his cheeks flushing pink. “Andarateia– Sorry, Teia, and Viago found a lead about the gaatlok. Could be our big break up against the Antaam!” Bellara is excited at the new discovery, but dread floods Lucanis' veins at having to face Viago knowing what his dick looks like. How can he look at Rook and not see how her tits bounced with every thrust from Viago? He goes through the motions of getting ready, grabbing his daggers and then his back-up daggers, but his mind is somewhere else: back in Rook’s room.
When Bellara and Lucanis walk down to the Eluvian Room, Rook is already there, stretching her limbs in common Crow warm up exercises. She waves to both of them, refusing to stop her mission preparations for anything. “You alright, Rook? Did you hurt yourself?” Bellara asks, offering a hand to help Rook stand.
“Oh yeah, I’m fine.” Rook accepts Bellara’s offer, who yanks the crow up off the floor. “Neck’s just a bit sore.” Lucanis coughs in surprise, and both women look at him. He can’t make eye contact with either of them.
“Sorry, it’s just
I had some almonds earlier.” Bellara raises an eyebrow.
“...That’s nice!” She responds, and Lucanis almost kicks himself for making the situation somehow more awkward.
Once they’re in Treviso, each step further into the Cantori Diamond feels heavier and heavier. Bellara and Rook chat away, as they’re used to Lucanis’ silent brooding at this point, but only one of them is clued into exactly what he’s brooding over. “Rook! Lucanis!” Teia hugs the both of them once they’re standing in front of the Seventh Talon. “Thank you for coming.” Lucanis blinks and he relives the moment he came the same time they did.
“You’re late.” Viago snips, and Rook scoffs.
“If you were able to do this without us, you would’ve done it already.” Viago crosses his arms and sneers while Teia sighs and presses her fingers to her temples, a headache already coming on from these two.
“Right, because your reputation for finishing jobs precedes you.” Viago says, making Rook throw her hands up. Bellara laughs behind her hand, even being polite enough to turn away from the group. Lucanis watches them bicker, Teia even getting involved at one point to step in between them, and wonders how they can be so normal. How can their hearts not sing whenever they see each other after being so vulnerable?
“Please, ladies, let’s get to the job!” Teia exclaims, pushing them away from each other. It’s enough to pause their jabbering for now, and the group moves to the table to discuss the finer details of the talons’ plan. Rook leans in over Viago’s shoulder to look at the map. He points to a particular corner of the Drowned District, his gloved index finger tapping the parchment. Lucanis looks at Viago but doesn’t see anything more behind his usual harsh demeanor. Lucanis’ brow knits in confusion, considering the possibility that perhaps what happened last night was a dream.
But then, he spots it: a purple splotch peeking underneath Rook’s collar. The armor wasn’t high enough to hide everything. The bite mark is especially visible when Rook tilts her head. When Lucanis watches Viago, his eyes are unflinching, immovable as Rook speaks.
The slightest glance. Viago’s gaze roves down to Rook’s collar too.
And his lips quirk into the smallest smile.
Lucanis gasps, grabbing the attention of everyone at the table. Rook, Viago, Teia, and Bellara all turn quickly to him. “Something the matter, Lucanis?” Teia asks. Lucanis stumbles over his words, his palms quickly turning wet under the scrutiny of everyone. Rook’s stare is even when he attempts to answer. It’s almost a challenge, a way to say, “Did you see what you think you saw?”. Viago squints, studying Lucanis and how nervous the man suddenly is.
“Well, um
” Lucanis thinks for a moment. “If we’re heading to the Drowned District, we have to be careful of the infrastructure. Detonating the gaatlok could be detrimental to the people living there.” Teia raises an eyebrow while Viago tilts his head and purses his lips. “Load bearing walls and such.” There’s a moment of silence as everyone considers what Lucanis has graciously added to the conversation.
“I think Lucanis is right.” Rook says, turning the table’s attention back to her. “We don’t want the Butcher to blame anything that might happen on the Crows instead of the Antaam. Could lose us valuable support amongst the people.” It’s a good enough excuse that everyone moves on, and Lucanis lets go of the breath he was holding. When he’s brave enough to rejoin the conversation, he finds that Rook is already looking at him. She winks.
After the mission they return back to the Cantori Diamond to debrief. Rook has a small scrape on her cheek from when a Venatori member managed to move in close enough on her flank before Lucanis could stop him. It’s just a flesh wound that’ll heal with time, but Viago sighs as soon as he sees her anyway. “You got hit.” He deadpans.
“Your observation skills continue to impress me.” Rook says. “Yes, I got hit. It was fine, Lucanis took care of him. Look at how great I am!” She puts her arms out and spins, making Teia laugh. Viago remains unconvinced; He steps forward and grips Rook on the chin, turning her face to get a better look at the cut. He hums, his stature towering over the other crow when they’re this close.
His crow.
“De Riva crows don’t get hit. Dagger, or arrow?” Viago asks Rook. Teia pulls Bellara aside to talk more about the mission. Lucanis can’t peel his eyes away from the pair.
“Dagger. You know how the Venatori are.” Rook responds, almost leaning into his touch.
“I do. You should– need to be more careful.” Viago examines the wound closely. “They like to move in close like that so they can use blood magic on you.”
“I know.” Rook huffs. Viago pulls her face straight on so that way she has no choice but to make eye contact with him.
“Do you?” Viago hisses. Lucanis shifts, hoping his armor is thick enough to keep his erection hidden. Rook glances at Lucanis, then smiles up at Viago.
“Don’t worry. I have the Demon of Vyrantium at my side, right Lucanis?” Viago also looks at the master assassin, and drops Rook’s chin. Lucanis laughs uncomfortably at the heat radiating from them.
“You’re going to kill me.” Is all Lucanis says. He isn’t sure who he’s talking to.
Back at The Lighthouse, Lucanis adds some items to the grocery list. The dinner table is completely empty, tonight’s meal leaving most people too full and tired to socialize like they usually do. The dim light from the candles lulls Lucanis, whose eyes close wearily. When he blinks them back open, it feels as though no time has passed, but then he looks at the note.
Flour
Cocoa
Pastina
Tomato
rookrookrookrookrookROOK
vvvvvvviago TOGETHER
inbetweeninbetweeninbetween
Lucanis angrily crumbles the note up and stuffs it into his pocket. “Get out of my head.” He grumbles, and although there’s no response, Lucanis swears he can hear the demon laugh. He heads into the pantry for a moment of attempted privacy, leaning his forehead against the wood once the door is closed. He shuts his eyes, breathing in the scent of aged oak and lingering spices.
“For an assassin, you’re easy to sneak up on.” He jumps and quickly turns.
Rook sits at his desk, her feet resting on the bottom of the chair while she’s firmly planted on the table top. 
“Most people expect visitors from outside their bedroom, not inside.” Lucanis says, heading to his cot and sitting down, facing Rook.
“You’re not most people, though.” Rook responds, which makes Lucanis blanche in surprise. “Also, for an assassin, you lack subtlety.” Lucanis averts his gaze to anywhere in the room but Rook. She laughs, making Lucanis smile despite himself. He loves how her laugh rings clearly, unabashed in her joy. “Ask your questions. I know you have them.”
Lucanis sighs, leaning back against his bed and resting his head on the soft sheets. “So many.” Is his first response. Rook hums, much like Viago does, in acknowledgement. “Does Teia know?” Is his second.
“I’m not privy to what Viago shares with Teia about his life when they’re not together.” Rook chooses her words carefully. “But I haven’t had any conversations with her about our arrangement.”
“So Teia and him aren’t together right now?”
Rook laughs. “No, not right now. Though, you know them. That can change at any given moment.” Lucanis is quiet, his chest rising and falling steadily. He likes that Rook doesn’t attempt to fill silences.
“If they were together–”
“No. It’s one of our rules.” At this, Lucanis raises his head to look at Rook. “We have rules. For when we’re allowed to
” She waves her hand around. “If either of us are in a relationship it doesn’t happen.”
“It being
?”
“Sex, Lucanis.” Rook laughs as he looks away. “It might surprise you, but Viago and I do enjoy each other’s company without the added benefit of sex.” He chortles, which makes Rook roll her eyes.
“When did this start?” At this question, Rook looks up to the ceiling as though truly pondering it.
“Well, I had only heard about Viago before he became Fifth Talon. But we first met because of a contract, actually.” Rook cracks her knuckles. “We were on a mission, about six years ago; the client specifically paid for Viago to tag along on the job. And you know him.”
Lucanis nods. “He’s kind of
”
“A stick in the mud?” Rook laughs. “He wanted everything to go well. To prove himself to Caterina. So, we went to Orlais.” Lucanis props himself up on his elbows.
“Did you have to pretend to be a couple? And then everything that was fake turned real?” Rook leans over to shove Lucanis lightly on the shoulder.
“I didn’t know you were a romantic, Lucanis.” She shakes her head. “No, the job was terrible. It was raining the whole way there and back. The weather made for inclement traveling so we were stuck in Orlais for longer than we expected.” Rook rolls her shoulders, as though recalling the job is stressful enough. “And we missed the mark. Several times, actually.” At this, Lucanis laughs so hard his stomach begins to hurt.
“I cannot imagine Viago missing.”
“He can’t either. So, both of us were pretty unhappy. Unhappiness turns to anger, and both of us were way too prideful to admit our own shortcomings, so we became angry at each other.” Rook smiles. “Put two crows who hate each other and are constantly drenched to the bone in the same room for seven weeks
”
“...And they’re bound to have sex.” Lucanis finishes the thought. 
“Exactly. It became an outlet. And then, when we got back to Antiva
” Rook shrugs. “It became routine. Viago likes his sex in a very, very particular way. There’s not a lot of people who are willing to do what he asks.”
“May I ask
” Lucanis blushes. “How does Viago like his sex? Because it seemed
” Lucanis stops himself, realizing that they now have to talk about that night. “Focused.” Rook nods. 
“Viago is very tightly bound. About everything, even simple pleasures. Like wine and art.” She gets up to pace as she talks. “He desires control over every single aspect of his life. He usually doesn’t get it, because being an assassin means that he has control over everything except his own life. I desire to let go. To trust someone enough to completely dominate me for one night and come out okay. It’s a reciprocal relationship.” Lucanis rubs his beard.
“So I’m assuming the bickering is part of that?” Rook furrows her brow in thought.
“Yes, and no. We bicker because I think it’s funny to wind him up, and he thinks he’s allowed to say everything that comes into his head.” Rook seems to recall something and blushes. “But winding him up, making him mad and pressing his buttons, that is part of it.” 
Rook stops to stand in front of Lucanis. “Is that what he meant by ‘learning your lesson’?” Lucanis seems too shy to even speak the words. She just nods, with a wry smile. “I see. Well.” He rubs his hands together awkwardly. “Thank you for being honest.”
Neither of them speak at first. When Lucanis looks up, he finds Rook already looking at him. She uses her calf to bump his legs apart, spreading them wide and allowing her to take a step closer to him. “Is there anything else you want to talk about?” Her voice goes low, acknowledging the tension that's been here since they started chatting.
“I–I want to
” Lucanis seems to form several sentences all at the same time. Instead, he breaks the barrier between the two of them and plants both hands on Rook’s hips, looking up at her. “There’s so many things I want to say.” Rook nods, taking the opportunity to rake her fingers through his hair. The same way she did with Viago.
“Maybe it’s my turn for questions?” Lucanis nods eagerly, grateful that she understands his inability to explain himself. “Did you like what you saw last night?” Lucanis groans, leaning forward to press his forehead against Rook’s abdomen.
“Maker, yes.” 
“Did you like me, or Viago?” Lucanis sucks in a breath. He closes his eyes, his fear of Rook realizing his silly little crushes. Plural. “...Did you like both of us?” All he can do is nod. Rook laughs, but doesn’t move away. “I understand. Watching attractive people have sex can do that.” Another beat of silence, both of them listening to the gentle waves of the surrounding fade.
“Did you want to join?” The question barely comes out as a whisper but it’s enough to make Lucanis go crazy. His loins tighten from the sexual line of questioning, remembering every single moment where he wondered how things would go if he were there. “I figured. Viago told me about the time you sent him a dagger. Both of you are incapable of reading inbetween the lines, it seems.” Lucanis blushes, hard. “I have a proposal for you.” At this, his grip on her hips becomes stronger in anticipation.
“Viago will probably come by again in a couple days. You can stop by, see how things go. See if there’s anything you’re interested in.” Rook is quick to add on, “But no pressure, though. Do whatever you feel comfortable with, I don’t want you to–”
“Would you like me there? If I
stopped by?” Lucanis slides his hands up, roaming over Rook’s back. She sighs listlessly, leaning into his touch. Lucanis’ hands are different from Viago’s; rough calluses, fingernails bitten raw, his touch yearning instead of easy. It makes Rook’s heart hiccup, wondering how long he wanted, needed something like this.
“Nothing would bring me greater pleasure.” She says matter-of-factly. It takes a large amount of effort, but she untangles herself from him. “Let me talk to Viago. I can’t imagine he’d have any reservations.” She leans down and plants a chaste kiss onto Lucanis’ temple. When she turns to leave, Lucanis grabs her hand, bringing it to his mouth and kissing the knuckles he saw her kill with just a few hours ago.
“I await your call.”
Four days later, Lucanis paces around the library. It’s late, but time doesn’t mean much to him these days. He glances over at the charcuterie board he’s made, the wooden cutting board covered with brie, goat cheese, fontina, chocolate, and crackers. He looks up, towards Rook’s room, and his heart starts racing again like it did a few days ago. Is he really doing this? He could just leave, head back to the pantry, and forget this ever happened. Rook and Viago would continue on normally, like nothing ever happened, because they’re professionals. Lucanis supposed he was too, before all this. 
He picks up the tray and goes up the stairs, taking his time approaching Rook’s door to calm his nerves. When he looks down the hallway, he sees that she’s closed it this time. “Now they make me knock.” He sneers. As he gets closer, he can hear snippets of the conversation happening inside.
“I just think that
”
“Well, you usually
”
“...my fault?...”
Lucanis takes a slow breath out, completely emptying his lungs. This is real.
He knocks twice, a bit softly, and all conversation inside ceases. There’s some moving around, and a giggle that definitely belongs to Rook because Lucanis doesn’t think Viago has it in him to giggle before someone comes and opens the door. Lucanis thought Rook would have the grace to open the door herself.
She does not.
Viago’s in his casual wear, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and he holds the door open at the top of the frame with one hand. “Lucanis.” He remarks, completely stone faced. Neither of the men say anything, but this close, Lucanis can smell Viago’s cologne. It’s more woody than Lucanis was expecting, with a lingering undertone of vanilla. 
“Viago.” Lucanis says. He holds up the charcuterie board, and Viago quirks an eyebrow. “I brought food.”
“I can see that.” The other man responds. Maker, this is awkward.
“Lucanis!” Rook remarks from inside the room, granting him entry despite Viago’s supposed disinterest. Did he not want him here?
“I brought food.” Lucanis repeats, and Rook smiles warmly. The chaise has a multitude of blankets spilling over it, and some pillows are on the floor too. The aquarium casts a deep blue light over everything, making Viago’s eyes seem black. Viago examines the board as Lucanis sets it down onto Rook’s table, next to his wine.
“Is that brie? And goat cheese?” The taller man questions. Lucanis shrugs, attempting to appear nonchalant. “Those pair well with pinot noir.” Viago adds, and again Lucanis shrugs.
“Rook mentioned it was your favorite.” She watches the two men talk with interest. Viago seems genuinely taken aback, picking up a cut of chocolate and brie, and then smelling it. Once he realizes that the heir apparent to First Talon gains nothing by poisoning him, he takes a bite.
“Are you trying to seduce me, Dellamorte?” Viago suddenly asks. Lucanis blushes, and looks away. He takes a moment to steel himself.
“That depends on if it’s working or not.” If he wanted, Lucanis could be suave. Perhaps he chooses not to. Viago doesn’t answer, but pours Lucanis a glass of wine and sits down on the floor near Rook. He motions to a cushion in between them.
“We were gossiping about other crows.” This is Lucanis’ last chance to leave and still have some semblance of normalcy with the two of them. He glances between them, noting how Viago loosens his collar and leans back on one arm. Rook’s smile is wide as she speaks to them, motioning excitedly at the latest news she’s heard about her fellow crows.
Lucanis cracks his neck, then sits down. He pretends not to notice how Rook’s smile widens. “Who were we talking about?” He takes a sip of wine, the warmth spreading down from his mouth all the way to his stomach. It’s dry, but the hints of fruit and acidity make up for it.
“Illario.” Viago grumbles, gesturing towards Rook. “She was recalling how they actually did meet once before, she just didn’t remember.” Lucanis turns towards Rook, who looks a bit bashful.
“You’ve met Illario?”
“Only once.” She responds, swirling her glass and taking a bite of cheese. “It was at a party, the Arainai one a decade ago. He looked so different!” She exclaims, and Lucanis chuckles.
“I believe that’s when he was curling his hair, correct?” Rook gasps and nods.
“Yes! Maker, it was awful. And he used so much product, I could smell him from a mile away. Everyone still followed him around, though.”
“Well, Illario has that effect on people.” Viago chimes in, leaning closer in towards Lucanis so that way he can fully take part in the conversation. “He could walk around in a potato sack and still get attention.” Rook laughs, snorting. 
“Viago, did you not use the same products in your hair?” Lucanis suddenly asks. Viago closes his eyes, his brow furrowing at Lucanis being able to recall something about him he’s pretty sure everyone else has forgotten.
“You did! I remember because it would take you hours to get ready when we were in Orlais!” The Orlais mission. Where this all began. Lucanis coughs as he tries to get the image of Viago and Rook together out of his head.
“My curls are natural.” Viago holds up a finger to both of them. “Illario faked them. It’s different.” Rook giggles so hard that she falls back onto the pile of blankets as Viago comes up with another defense. He’s passionate as he argues, gesturing wildly but never forgetting about the wine nor how he needs to take more sips of it. 
“If your curls are natural, then how come your hair is straight right now?” Rook asks, and Viago groans, bringing a hand to his forehead.
“Keeping it neat is good for appearances. As Fifth Talon, I can’t afford to appear messy.” Rook nods, but she remains unconvinced. 
“It is natural.” Lucanis chimes in, making Viago and Rook turn to him. Viago waves in Lucanis’ direction, moving in closer as he gets more and more heated.
“Well, I’ll believe Lucanis. But not you.” She sits up, propping herself up with one arm and leaning on her side.
“His hair gets curly when he sweats.” Lucanis adds, and this makes Viago pause in the middle of a bite. Rook says nothing, but smirks into her wine glass as the cogs churn in Viago’s head. “Not that I’m only looking at you when you sweat, it’s just–Maker, are we arguing about Viago’s hair?” Rook’s smile is easy, here. Perhaps with these two she can pretend to be just a crow, and not the leader of their small pack against the world.
“It’s a good head of hair.” Rook whispers, sitting up and moving closer to the men. There’s a distinct shift in the air, one that makes Lucanis put his wine glass down and pull away at his vest that suddenly feels too tight. Viago doesn’t initially respond, only taking another bite of cheese. She gasps. “Don’t I get a compliment?” It’s mocking him, but Viago allows himself to fall into the trap; he chuckles.
“What would you like to hear?” Viago asks, tilting his head and teasing her. Lucanis is a spectator to this dance they do, the push and pull of “will they, won’t they”. 
“Hmm
” Rook dramatically thinks, tapping her chin. “Don’t you think I’m funny?”
“Only when I’m laughing at you.”
Rook pouts. “Well, what about my charm?” 
Viago laughs. “That was actually funny.” 
Lucanis can’t help but smile at how Rook crawls even closer, shrinking the distance between the trio. “Surely you must like something about me.” Lucanis is completely enamored with her. He likes everything about Rook, but he’s not the one answering the question. When he looks at Viago, he’s shocked to find his expression has completely changed from when he first entered the room. His eyes are full of spark, his smile sideways as he carefully considers Rook’s flirting. Somewhere along the way, he’s even unbuttoned the top of his shirt, exposing a scant amount of chest hair that makes Lucanis’ stomach do somersaults. 
Viago moves a hand onto Rook’s thigh and pulls her closer, onto his lap. “I like your collarbones.” He finally answers. Rook rolls her eyes, but doesn’t move away as Viago’s hand slips under her shirt to expose his aforementioned favorite part of Rook. He ghosts his hand over her skin, and both of them notice how Rook shivers underneath his touch. “Lucanis, what is your favorite part of Rook?” 
An invitation to join. Lucanis seriously considers the question for a moment, but realizes Viago is giving him an in. He sits up and crawls behind Rook, between Viago’s legs. “I like her neck.” He simply answers, and Viago hums, nodding. Lucanis presses his palms into Rook’s trapezius muscles, noticing how she relaxes under the pressure and leans back into him.
“I’ve noticed.” Viago responds, smiling at how Lucanis gets nervous once he recalls their last visit to the Cantori Diamond. “It seems you have a knack for observation, Lucanis.” Viago leans forward, planting a kiss onto Rook’s chest, looking up to watch how her brows knit just so when his lips touch her. His eyes fall to Lucanis, pupils blown wide and hands massaging Rook. Viago pulls back, making her whine from the sudden cold. “Our safeword is saffron. Use it when you need to.” Viago says, and Lucanis nods. “Good. Now kiss.” He doesn’t ask, he commands.
Rook turns to look over her shoulder at Lucanis. Her lips are pursed and glossy, her shirt falling off of one shoulder. Lucanis has to hold himself back from absolutely devouring her completely. He hesitates, unsure what to do with his hands, but settles for cradling Rook’s face. He presses his lips to her’s, gently like they have all the time in the world. Rook is not surprised by Lucanis’ softness, allowing him to lead and take his time doing whatever he wants to do. Viago intently watches, studying how Lucanis seems to shake a little when Rook places a hand on his arm. He can feel Rook’s core heating up in his lap, how her hips buck whenever Viago shifts underneath her and his erection rubs against her thigh. 
Viago unexpectedly moves his hands to Rook’s waist, rubbing affectionately and steadying her, making her moan into Lucanis’ kiss; it’s enough to completely break him. He removes his hands only for a moment to rip off his vest, but his lips never leave her’s. Rook takes a risk, and opens her mouth slightly allowing Lucanis in. He accepts the offer, fervently and needily, their tongues moving with each other and becoming more desperate by the second. Without opening her eyes, Rook uses her free hand to grab Viago by the shirt and pull him up, mere inches away from Lucanis’ face. Rook, sandwiched between the two men, tilts her head away from them. “Your turn.” Her voice is hoarse. Lucanis looks at Viago, whose harsh stare stokes the fire inside him even more. When his brown, doe eyes flick between Viago’s lips and hard glare, unable to be the one who makes the first move, Viago shakes his head before diving in.
Viago kisses like it might be his last night alive. He takes instead of gives, keeping one hand on Rook’s waist and moving the other to the back of Lucanis’ neck to pull him closer. One of them groans, Rook isn’t sure who, but it’s enough to make her roll her hips against Viago and her backside against Lucanis. Lucanis shudders when Viago presses his tongue into his mouth, unapologetic in getting what he wants. Rook unbuttons Viago’s shirt for him, her hands roving over his hard chest as he breathes in Lucanis like he’s his only source of air. When they break apart, it’s only so Lucanis can do the same, exposing his abdomen and how the hair that covers his muscles travels down, to his happy trail, and then disappears under his trousers. 
Viago and Rook take the opportunity to get reacquainted with each other, her arms stretching over his shoulders as he turns his attention to her. Their kiss is immediately all passion, tongue, and teeth; Rook even bites his lip, making Viago’s brow furrow. Lucanis watches as Rook wraps her legs around Viago’s waist, how his large hands grab onto her back. He begins to palm himself through his pants, his thighs tightening from the slight pressure. Viago peels Rook’s shirt off, exposing her naked chest, and he tilts his head, frowning. “No bra?” Rook shrugs.
“I always get what I want.” When she looks at Lucanis, her smile is deadly. “Stand up. Both of you.” Viago huffs, not used to being the one that takes orders, but obliges her. Rook kneels in front of them and uses both hands to stroke their clothed erections, making them tense. Viago takes her hand off of him, and whips his belt off, shimmying out of his pants and briefs in one fell swoop. He’s already leaking pre-cum, his tip red from the lack of stimulation.
“Stop teasing.” He tangles his hand into Rook’s hair, pulling her face towards his cock. Viago uses his hand to push her back and forth, occasionally making Rook gag as he hits the back of her throat. Lucanis slowly strips, distracted by the two of them completely. Once he’s naked, he guides Rook’s hand to him, gasping as she grips onto him. While she swirls her tongue around Viago, she pumps her hand over Lucanis, using her thumb to swipe over his tip occasionally just so she can hear how he whines. Viago steals a glance over at Lucanis, watching how his stomach flexes with every stroke from Rook. To his credit, he allows Rook to come up for air. 
She turns her attention to Lucanis, raising her eyes to his as she slowly takes him entirely into her mouth. He stretches one hand behind his head, every muscle in his arm contorting. He notices how Viago hisses in pleasure at this, and breathlessly laughs. “Are you a fan of my arms, Viago?” Rook flattens her tongue, licking a long strip from Lucanis’ balls to his tip. 
“I’m a fan of watching a beautiful woman go down on a beautiful man. The muscles are a nice side benefit.” Lucanis can’t deny that he blushes at the compliment, still shy in spite of his current station. He uses his other hand to brush Rook’s hair out of her face, holding the few strands that stick back with a loose grip. Rook nods, out of appreciation or arousal Lucanis can’t tell. With a satisfied sigh, she pulls away, Lucanis grunting at the sudden lack of warmth. But ever the gentleman, he offers a strong grip when Rook decides to stand. Wordlessly, she moves past the men and sits on the small bed, slipping out of her pajama pants along the way.
She spreads her legs, using her index and middle finger to spread her lips too, giving them a full view of their very near future. Lucanis bites his knuckles to stifle the noise that escapes him. “I want to watch Lucanis try.” She dips a finger in between her folds, bucking at the stimulation. 
Lucanis aims to please; he turns to Viago and gets on his knees, practically drooling at his length. “He can certainly try.” Viago drawls, running his fingers through Lucanis’ mullet. “I won’t play nice, though.” Viago grabs himself and pumps a couple times. “Open.” He commands. Lucanis tentatively agrees, sticking his tongue out; Viago slaps his tip in Lucanis’ mouth, smearing pre-cum onto his lips. He thrusts shallowly into Lucanis’ mouth, allowing him to adjust to his size. Lucanis doesn’t think he’s ever been as hard as he is right now, but knowing Viago he denies himself the pleasure of masturbation. Instead, he rests his arms on his thighs, arching his back for a better angle. 
“He follows instructions well.” Viago pulls Lucanis’ head back, forcing him to look up at the man. Lucanis chokes at the new angle, Viago hitting the top of his throat and momentarily cutting off his air. “Just a bit longer. You can do that, right?” Lucanis nods eagerly, spit dripping out of his mouth and tears forming in the corners of his eyes. “Good boy.” 
Rook isn’t even touching herself anymore, just enjoying the show these two are putting on. She watches in awe as Lucanic copies her, circling Viago’s tip with his tongue and even flicking the sensitive slit. Viago’s stomach clenches, twitching into Lucanis’ mouth. “Just like that–doing such a good job.”
“You know, I think you’re nicer to him than me.” Viago laughs at Rook’s remark, sliding an eye open to the woman on the couch.
“Because I don’t have to worry about Lucanis the moment he leaves Treviso.” Rook stands, moving behind Viago to try and gain some semblance of his point of view. She slides her hands over his abs, tickling him as they settle where his thighs and stomach meet. The touch makes Viago thrust harshly into Lucanis’ mouth.
“You worry about me?” Rook murmurs against his skin, using one hand to join Lucanis in pleasing Viago. She grips the base of his arousal, lewdly spitting onto her palm and rubbing, occasionally dipping her fingers underneath to tease him. The added help allows Lucanis to focus on Viago’s head, where he’s the most sensitive. Viago’s jaw clenches at the sensation, his hands tangled in Lucanis’ hair flexing with every move from the man beneath him and the woman behind him.
“In my own way.” Viago admits, rolling his eyes at how he can feel Rook smile against him. “If you actually completed any contracts, I wouldn’t have to–” He falters when Rook slaps his tip against Lucanis’ tongue the way he did. 
“You talk too much.” Rook lets go of Viago, moving to stand over Lucanis as well. He glances up at Rook, his eyes grazing over her naked form so he can remember each curve and dip. He’s unsure if this will happen again, if Rook would ever want him without the added benefit of Viago. Would she give this up just to have him, entirely and by himself? He moves without warning, shifting his body to kneel in front of Rook instead, resting his chin against her and bringing a hand up in between her thighs. He dips a finger into her folds carefully, unsure of what exactly to do but hoping that his adoration for her will outshine his lack of experience.
Rook gasps at the sudden touch, her arousal coating Lucanis’ fingers. He’s careful yet curious, watching how her mouth forms an “O” shape at certain places, or how her little gasps turn to moans when he places just the right amount of pressure in other places. He presses his thumb against her clitoris, making Rook keen over and grip his face, pulling his mouth closer to where his fingers dexterously work. “Lucanis, please.” She moans, his name on her lips making his heart soar.
“Nothing would bring me greater pleasure.” He mumbles, dipping his mouth between her legs and tentatively taking a taste of Rook. It’s everything that he dreamed of, the way her fingers pull his hair, how her legs tremble around his face, how her eyes tighten close when Lucanis laps at her sex. Lucanis grips her thigh and lifts it, draping her leg over his shoulder and granting him further access. Unconsciously, Rook starts grinding on his face, his beard and mustache rubbing against the inside of her thighs softly. He takes a risk and moves his tongue lower to her entrance, teasing the inside of her hole with his mouth. Rook bucks even harder, chanting Lucanis’ name like how he used to chant the Maker’s in the Ossuary.
Lucanis has made the unfortunate mistake of letting Viago out of his sight. He’s unsure when, but the other man has crouched down behind Lucanis on his knees as well. He feels Viago’s long fingers trail the expanse of his back as his mouth latches onto Rook’s clit. Viago’s hands travel lower, then lower, until they’re cupping Lucanis’ ass. Lucanis’ brow furrows in pleasure when Viago spanks him, hard. Viago rubs the red, hand shaped welt beginning to form on Lucanis appreciatively before he moves in between Lucanis’ legs. He spits on his index and middle finger, creating some form of lubrication for Lucanis because Viago knows the man will need it.
With a surprising amount of care, Viago circles Lucanis’ hole. Lucanis isn’t unfamiliar with the sensation, but it’s another thing entirely for Viago to be the one performing this on him. Lucanis arches his back at the pleasure, pushing himself further between Rook’s legs. Viago takes things slowly, only rubbing the rim and adding a very small amount of pressure when Lucanis presses back against his fingers. The stimulation makes Lucanis moan wildly into Rook’s pussy, those vibrations in turn driving Rook even crazier. “Tell me if it’s too much.” Viago whispers, leaning over Lucanis and kissing his shoulder.
With as much restraint as he can muster, Viago pushes a finger inside of Lucanis. It’s enough to make Lucanis pull his mouth away from Rook and start kissing her thighs, the pleasure from both ends almost being too much for him. Viago winces against Lucanis’ skin, the tightness almost being enough to drive Viago to the edge and fuck him right now. Rook pets Lucanis’ hair lovingly, her touch enough to calm him down and focus on how the pain slowly ebbs into just pleasure. Viago works Lucanis’ hole for a while, giving him time to adjust to the idea of being filled, his tongue and teeth lapping at Lucanis’ neck. 
Lucanis returns his attention back to Rook, his passion for learning how to eat her out reignited by Viago’s fingers. The tip of his tongue circles her clitoris, noting how Rook enjoys more attention to the bundle of nerves than she does to any other part of her anatomy. She sighs with relief when Lucanis follows Viago’s guidance and drives a finger inside of Rook, his mouth still working her outer folds. Viago adds another finger inside of Lucanis, stretching the man to prepare him for the inevitable. It takes everything within Lucanis to relax and loosen up, as he expected this would happen, but actually having to practice to take Viago wholly is a different beast.
Viago’s pace quickens, the tension within Lucanis’ loins making his chest heave under the pressure of his impending orgasm. Rook is clearly close too, her hips snapping as she starts to fuck Lucanis’ face to chase her release. Lucanis relents, sticking his tongue out so Rook can use him however she wants. His nose bumps against her clit, and when Lucanis is finally able to open his eyes since Viago started fingering him, the sight of Rook is almost enough to push him completely over the edge. She’s sticky with sweat, her hands steadying Lucanis to give her more leverage and her nails digging into his scalp. Her pupils are blown out from arousal, making her eyes appear almost black. Her attention is entirely on Lucanis, the way he looks underneath her, how he moans partially from his own pleasure but also from her’s. “Lucanis, I’m so close–”
And just like that, Viago pulls out completely from Lucanis. The lack of stimulation makes Lucanis groan in frustration, turning around to glower at Viago. Rook, also denied of her orgasm, glares at Viago. While the looks from both assassins could probably kill most people, Viago is not most people. “Rook, lay down.” He commands, standing up briefly to grab a condom from her bedside table. She obeys him, grabbing a cushion and placing it underneath her lower back. Lucanis has yet to move, and with this view of Rook, he’s not sure he’ll ever want to leave. She instinctively wraps her legs around Lucanis’ hips, their two cores at the same height. He remembers something Viago did when he watched, and lowers his cock to Rook’s heat, slowly rubbing the shaft in between her lips. She squirms, her ankles latching together against Lucanis’ back. He presses his tip to her clit, adding just enough pressure to not completely slip inside, but enough so Rook’s back arches off the ground and her hands fly to Lucanis’ arms.
Viago rejoins them, slotting himself behind Lucanis between his legs while he slides the condom on. Lucanis moves to stand to grab one himself, but Rook stops him. “Don’t worry. Viago’s just a clean freak about certain
” She turns her head to the side. “Holes.” Lucanis blushes with understanding, and continues rutting against Rook. Her nails leave marks in his flesh, and she groans in anger. “Any day now, Viago!” He looks over Lucanis’ shoulder and tuts at Rook.
“So desperate.” Is all he says while removing Lucanis’ hand from his own cock. Viago grabs Lucanis’ member, now rubbing it against Rook. “May I?” He asks, and Lucanis enthusiastically nods. Viago guides Lucanis to Rook’s entrance, sinking Lucanis into her walls at an agonizing pace. Lucanis and Rook moan at the same time, his palms gripping her thighs just to pull her against him even more. 
He’s never felt this before, and although it’s probably obvious to Rook and Viago, they’re gracious enough to not say anything as he bites his bottom lip to hold the moans that threaten to spill out of his mouth and closes his eyes in fear of ejaculating early. It’s hot, hotter than his hand during the late nights spent in the Lighthouse where he’d lay there and think of Rook in this exact position just to get a few hours of rest. And tight, tighter than his collar when he’d look at Viago all those years ago across a banquet table and find his hard stare already fixed onto Lucanis. “Gracias a Hacedor–” The Spanish tumbles out from Lucanis before he realizes, his babbling more incoherent the deeper Viago moves Lucanis inside.
When he’s fully sheathed in Rook, her thighs plush against his, he stills for a moment, his brow knit in an emotion unreadable by Viago or Rook. He breathes in through his nose, out his mouth, Viago letting go of Lucanis and moving back behind him. “Lucanis? You okay?” Rook asks, worried.
“Yes.” Lucanis still has not opened his eyes.
“Are you sure? We can stop–”
“Please, no.” Lucanis whines. Viago chuckles from behind him.
“Is it everything you imagined, Lucanis?” Viago whispers into his ear, his own cock prodding against Lucanis. 
“It’s–” Lucanis gulps, every twitch of his body sending shocks down his spine. “It’s better. So much better.” Rook shifts underneath him, her own arousal mounting along with Lucanis’. 
“Rook usually likes to hear how good she feels.” Viago’s breath against Lucanis’ ear has him spinning, but he’s still grounded enough to catch the obvious hint. Lucanis cautiously opens one eye, then the other, returning to the situation at hand. He looks at where their two bodies meet, his shaft disappearing inside her, and almost comes right there. His eyes roam over Rook’s body, memorizing how she looks underneath him now, how her lips tremble at the smallest movement from Lucanis. Moving a hand to her face, he strokes her cheek with his thumb and brushes some of her hair out of the way. She smiles up at him, small and soft, like even now she’s afraid that he won’t like what he sees. Or maybe it’s that, in this moment, she sees Lucanis for who he is completely and won’t look away, despite everything.
“You’re beautiful.” Lucanis says, ignoring how absolutely wonderful she feels wrapped around him. Rook glances away, tilting her head as though her beauty and grace are something to be ashamed of. Gently, Lucanis uses his thumb to guide her gaze back to his, and he leans down and presses a kiss to her forehead. “May I?” Lucanis asks for permission to move. Rook nods, her hands moving to his and intertwining their fingers together.
When Lucanis first pulls out and thrusts inside her, he’s almost certain he won’t last longer than two minutes. He’s unsure how he’ll live without this for the rest of his life, Rook’s whines and gasps making his head spin. His hips slap against her’s, trying to find a comfortable rhythm that won’t make him come without warning. “Don’t start without me.” Viago grumbles, lining himself up with Lucanis’ entrance and finding a grip on Lucanis’ hips. Lucanis stills once again, completely inside Rook, knowing that if he was moving while Viago first pressed inside him he would surely release his arousal in mere seconds.
Viago’s tip presses against Lucanis’ hole, and he slowly moves past Lucanis’ rim to his warm insides. Both men let out guttural moans, Lucanis more so, Viago taking as much time as he wants to completely fill the other man. Lucanis’ hands tighten within Rook’s, squeezing her so hard that her fingertips turn red for a moment. “So good, so good for me
” Viago mumbles, beginning to move back and forth inside Lucanis. While Lucanis has more girth than Viago, Viago is long, longer than anything Lucanis has ever put inside himself. His thrusts push and pull Lucanis inside Rook, doing all the work for him, the overstimulation almost too much for Lucanis. 
Viago finds a rhythm more quickly than Lucanis, the experienced man laughing at the state of the one sandwiched between him and Rook. “Can’t take it Lucanis? You can always tap out, you know. Settle for watching, like you usually do.” The challenge is enough to make Lucanis rise to the occasion. He matches Viago’s tempo, the sound of skin slapping skin almost drowning out how all three moan lewdly. Viago takes control, angling his hips up to hit Lucanis’ prostate, attempting to break Lucanis’ concentration on not coming. Lucanis cusses, out of arousal and anger.
“You’re not–not being fair.” He whines, pressing his face into the crook of Rook’s neck and biting down. She gasps, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him close.
“Hard to be, when you look like this.” Viago traces Lucanis’ back muscles, watching how they go taunt with every touch. He briefly interlocks his hand with Rook, squeezing her palm in appreciation before increasing his speed. “How does it feel, Lucanis? Use your words.” Lucanis is silent, the only thoughts he’s able to comprehend fully being Rook and Viago, earning another spank from Viago. He pulls up, away from Rook, leaning against Viago’s chest and tilting his head to make eye contact with him.
“Incredible. You–She–Both of you feel incredible.” Viago looks down at Rook, raising an eyebrow, asking if she deems his answer acceptable or not. She smiles and nods, lifting her legs so that her feet rest on Lucanis’ shoulder. Viago is relentless; he kisses Lucanis, his tongue moving in tandem with his and growling when Lucanis moans into his mouth. Rook reaches a hand down between her own legs and stimulates herself, her core tightening in pleasure not only at the sight of Viago and Lucanis but also at how her fingers rub against her clitoris perfectly. Lucanis stutters at the new sensation, breaking the kiss to moan her name. “I’m
I’m close–”
“Just a little longer, Lucanis.” Viago’s teeth are gritted, his own orgasm now imminent as well.
“I can’t–” Lucanis’ hips stutter again. He starts to imagine how it’d feel to completely empty himself inside of Rook, what it looked like when Viago did the same, how he said he’d breed her–
Viago pulls out completely. Lucanis gasps at the sudden feeling of emptiness, how it’s almost painful, and stills inside of Rook. Viago uses his strength to pull Lucanis out of her, and stands over the other two, taking the condom off. Maker, if this is what Rook went through every time she had sex with him, Lucanis could see why she was hell bent on annoying the shit out of him everywhere else. Tears form in the corner of his eyes, his cock being so sensitive from his two denied orgasms that it hurts. “Lucanis, lay down.” If Viago feels bad, he certainly doesn’t let it show. Rook wipes Lucanis’ tears away, sympathetic to his plight, and helps him lay down on the chaise. Viago grabs another condom and slides it on while Rook shifts on top of Lucanis, resting on his upper thigh to give him more time to rest. 
No one speaks, but they move as one, Viago coming up behind Rook much like he did with Lucanis, and picking her hips up so that her core rests on top of Lucanis’ member. She gasps with Lucanis, his hands coming up to grab at anything, eventually finding her thighs. Rook and Viago look down at him, watching as she raises her hips and tantalizingly lowers herself onto Lucanis, his moans increasing in volume as he finds himself back inside of her. Lucanis’ eyes flit between the two of them, how Viago kisses Rook’s neck, how his hands grab her breasts from behind. Viago licks a long strip from her shoulder to her neck, making Rook shudder. 
Maker, this is addicting. They’re addicting.
Rook bounces on top of him, the sounds from where their bodies meet so obscene that Lucanis blushes at the idea of anyone walking by her room at this hour. She leans down and kisses Lucanis, her whimpers against his lips making him grunt in anticipation of his orgasm. He wraps his arms around her and begins to pound up, taking control for the first time since the night began. Rook wails in surprise, biting down onto Lucanis’ lip so hard she draws blood. 
Viago presses against her other entrance, only giving a few seconds of warning before he sheathes himself inside of her completely in one motion. It’s enough to knock the air out of her, her arms tightening around Lucanis’ neck for support as she puts her entire weight onto him. Viago would never admit it, but he’s as sensitive right now as the other two are. The way his cock feels inside Rook, how he can feel Lucanis move in and out of her, how Lucanis’ and Rook’s lips move against each other sloppily is almost enough to make him come right now. He holds onto the last shred of his self control, his hands gripping onto Rook’s ass and spreading her cheeks apart to get a better look. He makes a noise in between a chuckle and a moan, watching how Lucanis’ and his cocks move in tandem with each other, one pulling out while the other pushes in.
“How are you feeling, Viago?” Lucanis mutters, breaking his kiss with Rook briefly to speak. Viago’s eyes roam up the expanse of Rook’s back to Lucanis’ face, where he sees a string of spit connecting the two of them. Lucanis’ lips are red and glossy, his entire face scrunched up in concentration. Viago laughs at Lucanis’ question, the tables now turned on him as he struggles to find the words.
“Never better.” Is his response, each word punctuated by a particularly hard thrust. “Rook? You okay?” He asks. She doesn’t speak, merely groaning in affirmation against Lucanis’ shoulder. Viago decides to let it slide for now. All of his thoughts are dominated by this moment: the sound of their bodies moving against each other, the taste of Rook and Lucanis’ lips against his, the feeling of Rook’s body being able to take both of them. Lucanis seems to be a natural at this, his hands finding Rook’s hips once again and moving them for her when she can’t. She is completely fucked out of her mind, which is exactly where Viago wants her. “Perfect.” He whispers, low enough that even Lucanis can’t hear.
It’s only a few more thrusts from both of them when Rook chimes in. “I’m gonna–” She pauses when Lucanis winces in pleasure, her voice enough to bring him to completion. “–Gonna come.” Viago pushes his hair out of his face before leaning down over the other two. The motion presses his cock inside of her against Lucanis’, whose eyes roll into the back of his head.
“I’m close too.” He stammers out, nerves almost getting the better of him when Viago’s hard stare flicks to him. “Please, Viago
” His heart flips when he remembers how Rook said the exact same thing just a couple days ago. It feels like a lifetime ago now. Viago considers the both of them, his abdomen tensing as he also comes close to the edge. While he could go at this for hours, unfortunately for all three of them they have lives to return to. He moves his lips mere inches away from Lucanis’, teasing him with the promise of a kiss. 
“Come for me.” He murmurs, pressing his mouth against Lucanis’ as the other two practically sigh in relief, finally being allowed to orgasm. The way Viago grunts into Lucanis’ mouth is enough to tip him over, spilling himself into Rook’s messy cunt. The feeling of Lucanis’ seed being released in her makes Rook clench hard around the both of them, her orgasm washing over her in waves. Her thighs tremble as Lucanis continues to fuck her through his own orgasm, ensuring nothing is wasted. Viago is the last to finish, pressing a final harsh thrust into her as he comes. Lucanis’ tongue moves with Viago’s, his cock still shallowly thrusting into her as her release starts to subside. 
There’s a long, long break before anyone moves. Viago pulls out, careful not to hurt Rook, pressing a kiss against her ear. “You were perfect. An absolute dream.” He mutters, tasting the sweat that sticks to her body. Lucanis picks Rook up for a moment, only to also pull out, before setting her down gently on top of him. The only thing he can hear is Rook’s breath against his neck, and her heart beating against his chest. It hammers loudly although her breathing is slowed, a cheap shot at calming her entire body down so that way she’ll be able to actually stand tomorrow morning. Lucanis’ hands stroke through her hair, pulling her so close that their bodies could almost meld into one.
Viago bends down, pressing his knee into the chaise, and spreads Rook’s legs, using his thumb to slip inside her vagina and groaning a long chain of curses when Lucanis’ cum drips out of her. Rook jumps at his touch, still sensitive after being rutted against by the two of them. When Viago removes his fingers from inside her, Rook sighs in relief, but cries out once more when Viago attaches his mouth to her core instead. His tongue digs inside her, pulling more of Lucanis’ seed out of her and into his mouth.
She pushes herself up onto her hands and arches her back, moaning deliciously while Viago grips her backside and spreads her even more. While he grunts into her, his mouth against her wet cunt creates such crass sounds that Lucanis breathlessly laughs in equal parts embarrassment but also arousal. Viago swallows everything he can get, uncaring whether it came from Rook or Lucanis. He laps at her outer folds, his mouth sucking on her sensitive bud and forcing Rook to cover her mouth so she doesn’t scream.
Finally, Viago relents, pulling his mouth away from her core with a satisfying pop. Lucanis gazes at him in amazement, the other man standing over the two and his icy stare meeting Lucanis’ wide eyed face. He notices how some of Lucanis’ release drips down his own chin; and without breaking eye contact, swipes his thumb across his face and licks, swallowing deeply. Lucanis’ cock jumps at the mere sight of Viago consuming a part of him, all while Rook’s body presses against him in all the right places.
Lucanis brings a weary hand to his face and rubs his eyes, sighing. “You’re going to kill me.” Again, he’s unsure who exactly he’s speaking to.
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lethalchiralium · 1 year ago
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“Y/N, quit that.”
You giggled, your nails dragging a gentle yet teasing streak down your husband’s chest; he huffed, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he took just a moment to pull you away from his lips. His hand was heavy on your side, the other brushed his thumb across your lips. He looked up at you through his lashes, brown eyes seemed like enchanting spells - demanding your attention. Your tongue ran over your teeth, tasting the sting of bourbon that had settled in his mouth a few moments prior.
“I mean it.”
You scratched down his chest again, his hand was quick to snatch your wrist. He gave you a warning look, even when his smile contradicted his “anger”. His eyes softened, his thumb rubbing circles on your palm.
“Let’s go on our honeymoon.”
You sighed, leaning back on your husband’s hips - he adjusted his hips with ease as you sat completely on him, his hand on your side slid down over the waistband of your panties to your bare thigh. “We don’t need to waste money on child care when we can just go to London.”
“I just want me and you.” His voice was soft, touch more gentle than it had been the whole time you two were finally alone. “In one of those huts on the water-“
“Simon-“
“-like you talked about before.”
“Mellie’s too little.” You whispered. “I’m not gonna make one of our friends be subjected to a three month old for a week.”
Your husband brought your hand to his lips, planting a kiss to your warm palm. He pulled it to rest against his cheek, pressing his head into your touch. It made your body melt inside, your other hand gently rubbed his chest.
“The girls will be fine. I’ll get it all figured out.”
“We shouldn’t-“
“We should.” There’s a pregnant pause, you both understood the other’s position. He patted your thigh, squeezing your hand. “We’ll need to go before-“
“Can we talk about this tomorrow?”
Your husband paused again, glaring at you with his signature stare. He let out a long breath before a gentle nod. “No deflecting tomorrow, Y/N. I mean it.”
“Promise.” With that, you mirrored his nod - a signal that you were ready to continue what he had stopped before.
He smirked and you know your fate is sealed. His hand was removed from your thigh, gripping his bourbon glass and then bringing it to your lips. “Sip.” You followed his order, “sipping” until he was satisfied with how much you let slip between your lips. He took a drink of his own, smirk still visible. He placed the glass back on the nightstand before his hands settled on your hips again, sliding you farther down his body until you were perched right on his strained boxers. The buzz in your chest from the bourbon was barely noticeable compared to the heat between your sex and his; his fingers desperate to peel away the last piece of your clothing, but his hands only aided the gentle ebb and flow of his hips and your own. Pushing and pulling you, your eyes fluttered shut as you focused on moving your hips, wanting the high to build through your body. The quicker you came first, the faster you would get flipped onto your back and-
“Mama!”
A shrill shriek sounded from Winnie’s room down the hall, you both separated in an instant as Simon pulled you off of him, settling you on your back before he launched off the bed. He gave you a stern look, it calmed the instant worry in your belly. “Stay. I’ll see what she needs.”
He grabbed his shirt from the floor, handing it to you. You take it, throwing it over your bare chest before he leaned down to kiss you quickly.
“Daddy!”
Simon glanced to the door again before looking at you, “We’ll continue when I get back.” He kissed you again, longer this time and with fervor - it made you dizzy and warm, just like how the bourbon settled in your belly. He pulled away, his hand running down your side before he moved to the door; unlocking it and disappearing down the hallway, leaving you breathless like always.
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qingxin-dream · 11 months ago
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“Whiskey”
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summary | he likes this side of you. vulnerable. honest. eager to please. who is he to deny you in your time of need?
warnings | not proofread, profanity, possessive, smut [18+, MDNI], dubcon, female-bodied reader, reader wears a skirt, lots of teasing, edging/orgasm denial, overstimulation, grinding/panty-fucking, degradation + praise, rough sex, a sprinkle of dacryphilia, creampie
genre | smut (happy valentine’s dayâ€ïžâ€đŸ”„)
word count | 2k
pairing | wanderer x reader
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
𝓗umans are truly fascinating.
There’s this innate sense of wonder in those reflective violet eyes of his—one which begs to be satisfied. You can tell just by the way he looks at you with an imperceptible quiver of his soft lips that he may be debating on lashing you with another sarcastic remark.
You find yourself more enamored by the possibility the puppet might be persuaded to throw caution into the wind and finally give you that taste of him you’ve been so obviously craving. The slight aroma of whiskey piques his interest further.
After all, alcohol has a tendency to remove a human’s superficial barriers in expressing their true thoughts. Some even claim it to be an aphrodisiac.
Wanderer’s mouth curls up in amusement, enjoying the predicament you have presented before him.
Here you are, his precious little companion who guards her heart with awkward excuses and shy apologies, all tangled up with him against the wall. If you were a bit more sober, he’d delight in your typical reply—a small shriek of embarrassment followed by a deep, pink flush of your whole face.
This time, however, you are the one to plead for his touch.
“Scara
 I mean, W-Wanderer,” you whine into his collarbone, beginning to grip his white robe just above his belt. You liked feeling the contours of his body, but not openly. No, you’ve tortured yourself with a game of accidental touches and fleeting brushes of skin. Every time it’s as if you get another piece of the puzzle to his silhouette, sparking your imagination as to what the full picture might look like.
“What? A little alcohol and you can barely call me by my name,” Wanderer muses in a low tone, his hand drifting to the dip of your waist where it perfectly slots into your form. His other hand is presently preoccupied, nearly pinned to the wall behind him and fingers lazily intertwined with yours. “I never cared for titles anyway, but
 Master has a nice ring to it.”
“Dick,” you curse instinctively, rolling your eyes. Your displeased scoff trickles over his sensitive collarbone. Out of spite, you seriously consider sinking your teeth into his neck to leave a bruised mark on his pretty skin.
Archons, you don’t even recognize your own impulse anymore.
“Not yet,” he tuts, unable to resist the smug grin tugging at the corner of his lips. The hand on your waist slips away, taking his warmth with it. Wanderer leans in close enough so your noses are nearly touching, a newfound fire in his eyes. He waits a beat, his words drawn out in a slow, breathy whisper in an attempt to mask his own desperation. “I want you to cum all over my fingers first.”
The puppet’s eyes are trained on you like a predatory hawk, reveling in all the ways your body responds as he hooks his fingers on the hem of your underwear, yanking it down just below your skirt. Before you can protest, his long, slender fingers dipped into your needy hole, dragging your wet slick towards your clit to lubricate your folds for him.
Your knees practically buckle on the spot with a little cry of pleasure and surprise. Blissfully unaware, you whimper and try to lean in further to silently beg for some semblance of affection. Something to keep your mind from reeling like crazy. Even just a kiss will do. As much as you hate him for reading you like a book so often, you couldn’t be more turned on by his willingness to indulge you.
Merely the thought of his cock filling you to the brim has your hole fluttering with anticipation and he’s only touched you once.
“Mm, it’s so good,” you whimper with need, slowly bucking your hips in rhythm with his fingers circling your clit. When you have the strength to open your eyes again, Wanderer is marveling at your delectable expression. Within seconds, he captures your lips in a gentle kiss that burns like a candle—patiently but passionately.
A soft moan escapes you, swallowed eagerly by Wanderer’s tongue slipping into your mouth. He wants to hear it again, though the sound of his fingers in your pussy is a close second. He grunts with a bit of laughter as a particularly delicious thought crosses his mind. The puppet keeps rubbing your puffy clit at a steady pace, occasionally slipping two fingers barely at your entrance.
The instant his fingers teased your core, you melted into him, chasing after that sensation once more. “Oh my god
 it’s so fucking hot. Please
”
“Please what, baby?” Wanderer coaxes you with a tender but playful undertone, feigning innocence to your question. He quiets you with a few more decadent kisses, maintaining that pressure-building pleasure concentrated on your clit.
You struggle to maintain what little composure you have left. You’re trying your damnedest to be good for him, but you can’t help the shaky whine purring deep in your throat. It takes you a moment to gather the courage to say it. “F-fuck me. Please.”
“Mhmm,” he moans freely and heavily onto your lips, nodding into another kiss with excitement. The puppet hears you. He knows you are beginning to feel a wave swelling in your lower stomach at his ministrations, ready to crest over in a magnificent release. “But what if I want you to cum all over your panties, hm? I want you to earn it first.”
Wanderer pumps the tips of his fingers into you just to bring you closer to the edge before quickly returning to your overly-sensitive nub. You can’t take it anymore, you’ll do anything to convince him otherwise. Biting your lower lip, you mewl, “Why don’t you cum in them instead? I-I just need to feel you
”
He chuckles lightheartedly at you, finding your desperate state to be cute. The glassy look in your eyes as if you could cry at any moment is the cherry on top. Perhaps he is feeling merciful today. You yelp with surprise when the puppet replaces his index and middle finger with the wet slap of his cock against your pink folds, grinding it between them.
“Fuck, yes,” sighing heavily, you relax against Wanderer, sucking in a breath with each thrust of his tip that reaches your entrance. You’ve completely surrendered to the intoxicating image of his cock pushing into your tight hole, cursing under your breath. All your needy moans are his for the taking, swirling his tongue against yours in a steamy exchange.
“You’re so fucking wet for me, it’s pathetic,” the puppet chuckles, but his words are hardly degrading. Rather, his low baritone is steeped with lust. Without warning, he removes your panties entirely to lift you by your hips, pressing your back flush to the wall and sheathing the leaking tip of his cock inside your warmth repeatedly. “Is this what you wanted? Huh?”
“A-ah!” your mouth forms an ‘o’ shape at your lover’s unexpected but very much welcome intrusion, looking down at how your pussy is taking him in by the inch. There’s already a ring of fluids beginning to gather around his tip. “Yes, mm, please
 more. Fuck.”
A snicker resounds from his throat as he slowly sinks himself into you, watching with utter fascination as you struggle to adjust to his girth. Cooing sweet nothings into the shell of your ear, Wanderer shifts so that you’re pressed to the wall entirely by his pelvis. Your spongy walls flutter and throb around his thick length, spurring him to grab your face firmly by the jaw. “You’re doing so good for me, baby. Look at you, so pretty for me. Kiss me.”
Little did you know that the sweet relief of his plush lips on yours was but a distraction. While you wrapped your arms around his neck, Wanderer slides his cock out to your wet entrance, fucking just the tip inside you. The moment you began to show signs of protest, he plunged deep into your pussy with an audible smack of skin. You let out a cracked yelp.
“What was that, baby?” he moans into your mouth teasingly, a hand squeezing lightly on your jugular. It was just enough to make you a little dizzy and drunk on his cock. That much was evident as the puppet pulls out for the umpteenth time to overstimulate your hole.
“I-I
” you stutter out breathlessly, clinging to him like your life depended on it. Your mind was empty. Only the tantalizing sensation of his cock dragging against your walls could make your world turn once more.
With a sinister giggle, Wanderer silences with you with another sloppy kiss. When he buries his cock into you abruptly this time, you babble incoherent nonsense about cumming. He takes advantage of it, thrusting his hips at a fast pace and practically fucking you into the wall.
“Yeah? You wanna cum? Fuck
 you’re gripping me so tight,” his voice morphs into a hiss as he attempts to delay his own impending orgasm. Your head rolls back in ecstasy, on the brink of release as Wanderer drills your cunt wildly, ripping loud moans from your parched throat.
Just as you were hurtled toward the precipice of your orgasm, Wanderer lifted you off of his cock and the pressure in your stomach dissipated. The emptiness inside your walls was unbearable. Marching into the bedroom, he positions your ass up on the bed and immediately splits your pussy open with his throbbing cock again and again.
“Shit, shit, yes. I fucking love it. I love you so much,” you growl into a pillow raggedly, a dreamy, fucked-out look in your eyes as he pounds into you.
The puppet yanks the pillow out from underneath you, wrapping your hair around his fist so he can make sure you don’t dare stifle your praise and moans from him. “You fucking like that? Being my little cocksleeve, yeah? Lemme hear you say it, baby. Mine
 all mine.”
You are completely dazed by Wanderer’s cock fucking you as if he wanted to make a permanent impression of his curve in your soft pussy. He was ready to pump you full of his cum. His fingers tighten on your hair slightly, and you’re reminded that you were given a command. “Mm, mhmm! Y-yours
”
“My what?” he presses further, mesmerized by the ripple of your skin every time he thrusts into you from behind. His hand smacks your ass as a warning.
“Y-your cocksleeve!” you blurt out with tears beginning to pool in the corners of your eyes. The overstimulation at this point is the perfect concoction of pain and pleasure, driving you to the edge. Your eyes start to roll back a little, succumbing to the hypnotic sensation of his veiny cock burying itself in your core.
Wanderer releases your hair, possessively planting his hands over your hips to deepen his thrusts. “And what do good cocksleeves do?”
“T-take
 your cum
 a-ah, fuck. That’s it. That’s it. I’m gonna cum!” you reply with the last remaining ounce of your willpower. Your entirely body tenses and spasms with pleasure as a litany of profanities and prayers spill from your lips. You’ve never had an orgasm as intense as this, you can’t control your own bodily response.
Wanderer immediately pulls you in, his muscular chest pressed to your back, cooing and shushing you gently as he succumbs to his own orgasm. You can vividly feel his cock pulsating inside your warmth, spurting hot, thick ropes of his seed across your gummy walls. “That’s okay, cum for me, baby. I love you so fucking much, yeah. Shhh
”
The room is filled with heavy breaths and the smell of sex. Your lover’s grip never falters. Instead, the puppet gently kisses the crook between your neck and shoulder.
“I’ll take care of you. I promise. You’re my good girl.”
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thanks for reading! reblogs are appreciated! my masterlist.
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slayfics · 3 months ago
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Illumi accidentally kills for you.
1k words
Warnings: blood, mentions of death
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You daringly ran your fingers through the long strands of black hair cascading across the sheets. Illumi’s hair was as soft and silky as ever. Gentle breaths left the assassin as he slept. His face nuzzled snuggly in the pillow.
The peacefulness of the moment was halted as his eyes snapped open at your touch. Your fingers trail through the end of his hair causing the strands to gently float back down to rest along the sheets.
"Sorry I didn't mean to wake you," you spoke softly, removing your hand from his hair. You should have known better that a trained assassin like Illumi would be a light sleeper. Overly alert to any touch or presence.
Illumi blinked at you as he came into full consciousness. Fully awake, now understanding what woke him up, he grabbed your hand and placed it back on his head.
You exhaled a smile and continued to play with his hair. Delicately you ran your fingers through and brushed any loose strands away from his face.
Illumi breathed in deeply, his blinks becoming longer, eyes daring to stay closed. Being soothed back to sleep by your affectionate touches. Something completely foreign to him before meeting you.
You hated disrupting him, but you had to part ways and prepare for your day. Not wanting to surprise him with your sudden departure you whispered, "Illumi, I have to start getting ready."
Illumi's eyes shot open yet again. "For?" he questioned.
"Work," you answered. "I have that meeting with those annoying people today remember?" You reminded him.
"Oh, that's right," he breathed out. Then just as casually as asking you if you wanted a cup of coffee asked, "Want me to kill them?"
"How much?" you asked teasingly.
"Hmm, from what you said they all seem pretty weak. Not even worth a job," Illumi said, watching as you slipped out of bed to change into your day clothes.
You clicked your tongue, "Well that's too bad, it would have been nice to get out of this meeting," you said jokingly, then went to the restroom to start the rest of your routine.
You moved on autopilot, washing your face, fixing your hair to look presentable, then brushing your teeth. You opened the mirrored cabinet in the restroom to place the toothpaste back on the shelf. Closing the cabinet a bloody reflection appeared in the mirror startling you into a jump. After a moment you recognize the reflection to be Illumi standing behind you.
"Illumi! You know I hate it when you sneak up on me!" You scolded him, turning around.
"It's done," was his only response.
The shock of the scare wearing off, you begin to process his appearance. Fresh splattered blood was spread across his clothes and face. "What's done?!" you asked. Although your stomach started to boil with horror predicting his next words.
"Hm?" Illumi tilted his head in confusion. "I killed them," he said matter-of-factly. Not a hint of guilt in his voice.
"KILLED WHO!?" You asked, voice rising. Even though deep down you knew the answer.
Illumi's eyes widened at your distress, "The co-workers you had a meeting with. Isn't that what you wanted?" he asked bewildered.
"NO! I WAS JOKING! You even said they weren't worth a job!" You shrieked, horrified.
"Yes. They weren't worth a job, as in you did not need to pay me, because I would do it for free. For you," he explained.
Your breaths became shallow, and the room began to spin, as you tried to make sense of this deadly misunderstanding.
"It seems there was a miscommunication," Illumi stated, seeing your panic. "I apologize," he said. His apology was ordinary as if he made a simple mistake. It was the kind of apology you say after accidentally bumping into someone.
It wasn't the regret and sorrow you'd imagine from ending someone's life permanently. However, for Illumi, ending someone's life was an everyday occurrence. For Illumi, this wasn't a catastrophic mistake. It was just a simple, ops.
"You look faint, are you alright?" Illumi asked.
You took deep breaths, trying to calm yourself and process the situation. This was a monumental deal for you. However, Illumi was at his core, trying to help you. Twisted as it was, he had no ill intentions for killing your co-workers.
You exhaled, "It's a shock that's all," you responded.
"I suppose for someone who isn't an assassin death is," he spoke, his best attempt at trying to sympathize with you. "You aren't mad at me, are you?" He asked.
You shook your head no slowly, understanding that being mad at Illumi would not help the situation any. "No, I'm not mad at you Illumi, you did what you thought I wanted.... and besides... I guess I can stay home today now," you laughed morbidly.
Illumi nodded in agreement, "Yes your meeting is likely canceled."
You let out another grim laugh, "Yeah, I'm sure it is... Guess I can just tell you anytime I want something canceled."
"Yes," Illumi said in agreement. "I'll take care of anything you need me to. I'd never charge you," he said. "But next time, I'll be sure you actually want them dead."
You hummed in agreement, "Yes, and I'll be more careful with my jokes."
You knew it was wrong, he had just killed several people you were acquainted with. And yet, you couldn't put out the butterflies that fluttered in your stomach.
In a macabre way, this was romantic. Illumi had free of charge taken out people he thought were bothering you. It was Illumi's way of saying he loved you.
An adrenaline rush of power shot through your veins. Any future problem could easily be solved, permanently if you wish.
Illumi's eyes never left you, worried you might faint from shock at any moment. "I will get you some water," he said, blood droplets falling from his clothes onto the restroom floor as he shifted to leave.
"Wait," you called out to him.
Quick to react, Illumi moved back to you, to his surprise, you pressed your lips to his lips in a hungry kiss. Embracing and pushing your body to collide with his. Smears of blood now painting your face and clothes.
"I love you too Illumi," you whispered.
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sinners: @unofficialsapphire @illumiiiz @hyperiondickrider
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heich0e · 1 year ago
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"Shhh.... shhh...."
The baby in your arms doesn't calm, even as you gently bounce him in time with your soft shushing. He's fussing, letting out shrill little cries of complaint and the occasional sob, his chubby cheeks flushed a harsh red and his round blue eyes welling with the glimmer of tears.
"Oh, poor baby," you whisper, running your fingertips through the dark, downy hair at your son's temple. He sniffles weakly, grabbing a fistful of your shirt and clutching it with all his might in his teeny tiny hand, another pained little whimper slipping out of his pursed lips.
You glance over to the other side of the nursery where Tobio stands, watching you with a concerned pinch to his expression, his hands unconsciously gripping the material of his sweatshirt over his diaphragm. His eyes—swimming with a palpable, but unspoken worry—are on the baby in your arms, and they don't waver.
Tobio hasn't calmed since he woke you frantically an hour prior.
"Hey..." his voice had called for you, crackling unmistakably with panic. You could feel the mattress dipping as he kneeled at the edge of your bed, an urging hand on your back to rouse you. "Please wake up."
Your son's cry was the next thing you registered—the piercing sound of your baby shrieking from a few rooms away. Tobio's frightened face met you when your eyes finally snapped open
"What is it?" you asked, sitting up suddenly in bed. Your voice was still thick with sleep, but you felt terribly, horribly awake in that moment—your husband's expression enough to startle you into the firm grip of consciousness, the prick of panic's gnarled claws spearing through you.
"There's something wrong with the baby," he had rasped next, and if you'd not immediately stumbled out of bed towards the nursery you might have caught the sight of tears beading on his lash line.
There isn't anything wrong with the baby, at least not anything serious, in spite of Tobio's initial panic. He is teething, though—rather intensely if the fierce red flush to his cheeks and his his tears are anything to go by—and nothing seems to be working to calm him down.
"It's okay, Tobio," you say softly to your husband, assuring him at the same time as you soothe your wailing 7-month-old with those continued gentle bouncing motions.
"He's so upset," Tobio replies quietly, swallowing hard. "I tried to calm him down but I didn't know what was wrong, and he—nothing I—he just—"
"Hey," you cross the nursery towards him, keeping baby tucked up against your shoulder and rocking him gently. "You didn't know. It's okay."
Regardless of your assurances, Tobio looks defeated.
"Tobi, why don't you go get one of his teething toys?" you suggest, shifting your son so you can get a better look at his distraught little face—rubbing your thumb against his chubby cheek to clear away some of his tears. He squirms in your arms in protest.
"Okay," the man beside you replies immediately, his head bobbing in a nod. He heads hastily towards the door.
"Maybe grab a cool compress for his cheeks too."
He nods again, dashing away.
"Poor little one," you sigh, cradling your baby to your chest as you tote him over to the chair in the far corner of his bedroom. "It must be so hard to be this small, huh?"
Tobio comes racing back into the room a few moments later, a variety of different teething toys and a baby-sized washcloth dampened with cool water in his hand.
"What's all this?" you ask him, watching as he drops his hoard of items on top of the dresser next to you.
"I wasn't sure which one he'd want," he says, looking down at the wide assortment of teething toys. He glances over at you sheepishly from the corner of his eye.
"Why don't you pick one out and see if he likes it," you say with a soft smile. Tobio nods resolutely, a determination in the set of his jaw. He looks down at the multitude of options he'd grabbed and considers them for a moment.
You watch as he reaches for one—a firm rubber toy shaped like a giraffe, designed for babies to chew on to soothe the ache of cutting teeth. You remember the day Tobio had picked it out, a look on his face not dissimilar to this one—intensely focused on the task—when your son still just a little bump, a fervent hope, hidden away under a Schweiden Adlers sweatshirt. You remember thinking the giraffe reminds you of the character on the milk he used to drink at lunch in high school, all those years ago.
He holds the toy up for you to see.
"I think that's a great one," you agree.
Hesitantly, Tobio approaches you and your baby in the chair, kneeling on the ground beside it. He slowly offers the little giraffe up to your son, whose eyes are heavy with the sleep that can't come to him through the pain of teething. The infant in your arms stops fussing momentarily, contemplating the toy held before his face with round, curious eyes.
He looks so much like Tobio.
You've thought it since the day he was born, but the fact becomes more true with every passing day. Sometimes you see a bit of yourself in his little face, an expression, or maybe something in the shape of his nose, but for the most part he's a carbon copy of his father.
But you don't really mind that.
Tobio watches with identically round blue eyes as your son pulls the slobbery little hand he'd been gnawing on from his mouth and uses it to reach for the toy. Both of you hold your breath.
He pops the giraffe immediately into his gummy mouth, head first.
It's too soon to breathe any real sigh of relief. You're both all too familiar with how quickly the tides of a baby's temperament can change—discontent flooding back violently just when you least expect it. But there's a palpable ease in both of you. A bit of the stress of the situation receding from the shore.
Tobio's eyes are still on your son, resting on your chest as he gums the toy his papa picked out for him. He's fussing less now, and when Tobio reaches up and gently pats the cool compress against his chubby, ruddy cheeks, the baby's eyes begin to slowly but surely flutter closed.
It's quiet in the nursery. Just the occasional gurgle, or slobbery little noise from the teething toy to be heard.
"He's so little," Tobio breathes, lifting the compress off baby's cheek now that it's mostly warmed through. He says it like he almost can't wrap his head around it, or that it's news to him, even though it's a remark he makes to you at least once a day—and has since the day your son was born.
"He is," you agree.
"I can't believe he won't always be this small," your husband goes on to add, and part of you wonders if this is the exhaustion talking. You stifle a laugh, letting your head loll against the back of the nursing chair to peer over at him.
"We'll miss this someday, y'know," you remark quietly, your tone a bit wry. And you mean it. All of it. Even the late nights and the loud crying and the panic.
The corner of Tobio's lips turn down ever so slightly, and you watch as he rubs at his chest, like it pains him.
"I feel like I already do sometimes," Tobio admits. "Like I miss him even though he's right there."
Your son's breathing has begun to slow to a normal, even pace, and his eyes have properly shut. You rub a little circle into his back with your thumb, your hand wide enough to span its width if you splay your fingers out.
Tobio looks at you with beseeching eyes. "Is that normal?"
You laugh lightly, reaching out to cup his cheek with the hand not holding your baby to your chest. He leans into your touch instinctively, his nose brushing against the heel of your palm as his eyes seek yours.
"I don't know," you admit to him quietly. After all, you're still new to this too. "Maybe."
Tobio nods a little with his face still cradled in your hand, his eyes fluttering down to your son once more.
And as you watch your husband carefully pry your sleeping son up from your chest and into his own arms; watch how he holds him in his big, big hands like there's nothing more precious in the world; watch how tenderly he sets him back into his crib, making sure the little giraffe is still safe in his little grip, a flash of pride behind his eyes at how attached the little boy is to the toy he chose for him; there's a warm, achy feeling that blooms underneath your ribs.
And you can't help but think that even if it isn't normal, you understand exactly what he means all the same.
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screampied · 4 months ago
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໒꒱ cw. fem! reader, unprotected, sugar baby gojo, missionary, tīt play, praise kink, mdni.
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sugar baby!gojo who lives off your praise,
you can buy him anything in the world—but hearing you call him a ‘good boy’ was the most expensive, priceless gift he could ever get.
anytime he’s buried between your thighs, it’s like pure heaven to him. satoru can’t help but shove his face between your soft breasts, humping sloppily against your body as you run your fingers down his hair. down his undercut, oh that spot . . it makes whimpers spew straight past his lips at the simple touch of your fingers. “f- fuck, miss,” he’d grunt, almost forgetting that his hardened cock was stilled inside of you. his bottom lip quivers as his body continues to sloppily thrust against you, his hips lazily trying to become in sync with your own. satoru almost purrs, feeling your thumb swipe down his undercut and the way you clench around him. “y- you feel so good.”
“eyes up here, ‘toru baby,” you coo in a sweet tone, almost angelic. pretty azul irises dilate, meeting yours whilst you cup his chin. he leans into your touch as his eyes shimmer in the light. “thaaaat’s it pretty boy, jus’ hold my hips,” and he shivers once you drag your tepid hands further down, grabbing ahold of his frigidly cold hands. satoru moans, continuing to drive his dick into your sopping cunt before he leans in for a kiss. “mmpf,” you let off a muffled squeal, tossing your arms over his tensing broad shoulders.
satoru’s soft lips crash onto yours, tasting the remnants of peachy moĂ«t & chandon on your tongue—you tasted sweet, rich. .
“no, call me a good boy again,” and with how whiny his voice is and how far apart his snowy white brows furrow, he’s not asking he’s begging. “please miss . . please.”
“mhm, satoru,” you breathe through gritted teeth, his sizzling hot body continuously rocking against yours. the queen-sized bed grows rickety and your nails claw a long slope down his tensed back.
he’s stupidly feral, rutting into you again and again with his hungry jittery hips plowing into you with such needy, greedy thrusts. and as he’s between your thighs—going back and forth, hearing the sloshing sounds of your pussy shriek in rapture, satoru’s got that look in his eyes awaiting for you to say it again.
those sweet sweet words, sweeter than honey.
satoru’s sloppily kissing down your neck as his hips thrust into you quicker. he huskily groans, the sweltering hot tip of his cock kissing up against that same spot. your toes curl in pleasure as you feel his pumping surge deeper into your loving core.
“good boy,” you whisper, letting off a soft whine once he goes back to sucking on your tits again. with a loud ‘pop’, one tit of yours jiggles out from his mouth with a silvery string of saliva swallowing. a sleazy grin spreads across his lips as he heard your words of approval. he’s nodding with your swollen nipple, his eyes telling you, ‘say it again, again. . ’
“ngh, good boy,” you repeat in broken breathy whimpers, feeling the shaky weight of his sculptured hips continuously buck into yours. satoru can’t get enough of you, your scent — oh, that expensive acqua di parma perfume you’d spritz all over yourself purposely just for him to smell - it drove him insane.
satoru’s whining, his face sitting up from between your chest and he’s staring dead at you. dewy hooded eyes lock onto yours before he’s starting to see nothing but white. as satoru’s weakly moving his hips against you—his eyes were staring to roll back, he was about to almost drool. all because of your sweet cunt—the epitome of pussy drunk.
his base was the fullest its ever been. it thwacks and thwacks against your sloshing wet cunt until you’re dizzy, until he’s dizzy. wrapping your legs around his slim waist, you grind yourself back into him. “fuck me, right there ‘torubaby, fuck.”
“ ‘m gonna cum just from your voice—shit,” he huffs, and he can feel your pussy slobbering all down his pace with your slick. your hands run down his waist and he moans from your touch. it was almost cute at how sensitive he was to something as simple at touch. to the outside world—he’s satoru gojo, the strongest. but between your legs, he’s weak—happily weak just for you and only you.
with how wet you were and how his cock’s just twitching and throbbing inside of your clingy gummy walls, it’s just so damn lewd. he sucks his teeth as his bare knuckles split, turning pale. “god, keep touchin’ me please, touch my body. keep t- touchin,”
cupping his cheeks, you have a sheepish expression. “baby, you’re rambling again,” you softly murmur, and he’s panting, rolling his hips faster into you. he leans into your touch, his plump cheek squishing against your palm. your arms go back to hauling themselves over his shoulders before you bring him into a kiss.
satoru’s shivering at how your lips crash onto him yet again—your hands feeling all over him. his hips grew so unapologetically sloppy that it was only a matter of time before his knees pathetically buckled.
as his tongue blissfully curls against yours, strands of sappy saliva tangling amongst each other, he whimpers right into your mouth. satoru’s hips pop against you as he tries to slow down, feeling himself finally let go.
it’s so good, his cock emits out lustrous ribbons of cum right into your cunt and your lips part, gasping. “oh, o- oh shit,” he grunts, feeling the warmth of your ankle run down his chiseled back. satoru’s panting heavily, cowardly tucking his head back between his favorite place — your tits.
“mmpf,” he tries to suppress his moans as he’s still cumming. it’s so much that he can’t help but shake. euphoria overtakes his body as he’s dumping satiny strands inside of you. his tongue swirls against each of your pretty tender nipples before he gives each of them a long three second suck. you whine, feeling him pour every dribbling drop inside of your pussy until it’s no more for him to spill.
a hand of yours runs through his unkempt ivory strands as he’s trying to silence his sweet noises by having his mouth stuffed full. “f- fuck, that’s it, ‘toru,” and he hums with his pretty lashes fluttering themselves shut, feeling butterflies once your fingers drag through his delicate scalp.
satoru’s entirely sloppy without zero shame either. with half-lidded droopy eyes, you watch as a bit of his own saliva runs from the corners of his pink crooked lips. “s- satoru,” you moan, his flaccid cock still plugged into you. it’s hot, his tip was barely even leaking anymore, and yet between your thighs—it was an entire mess he’d gifted you. you always showered him with praises and gifts so he decided he’d shower you with a gift of his own this time.
the gift in question was currently spilling down your thighs and staining the rich velvety sheets.
“say it again,” he whines, pretty eyes pleading at you. satoru’s got a pout displaying against his lips as his head presses on top of your breasts. but his pout suddenly turns smug once he playfully nips at the sheeny pearls that wrap around your neck.
“call me your good boy again, miss . .”
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stervrucht · 4 months ago
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Rated: E | Words: 2.8K | Tags: Angst, fluff and smut, sexual humor, bad dirty talk, light dom/sub, praise kink, established (new) relationship | AO3
Eddie is inexperienced.
Steve didn’t know it at first. Might have been able to guess from the fact he never heard any rumors about Eddie regarding that. And really, he mostly just assumed that those he regarded as ‘freaks’ back in the day—a thought that makes Steve wince in shame—were a bunch of perpetual virgins. 
So there were no rumors, really, except for what was written on the bathroom stalls. Sharpy on metal suggesting Eddie might sell more than a bit of grass. 
All lies, Eddie told him. Though he did admit he might have received a handy for a few grams of weed once.
Might.
Steve isn’t sure if Eddie’s just fucking with him at this point.
Either way, it doesn’t really matter that Eddie doesn’t have much experience—Steve has enough for both of them. And besides, when it comes to men, they’re both technically virgins. 
That somehow makes it better.
Steve loves to explore unknown territory together—loves fun when it comes to sex. He didn’t particularly enjoy some of the girls who would just lay there and expect him to do the work, oftentimes without much encouragement at all. And Eddie isn’t shy by any means. What he lacks in experience, he makes up for with enthusiasm, and it’s all Steve could ask for.
They got lucky this week—Eddie has made that abundantly clear. Can’t shut up about it, really.
Wayne is on a fishing trip and they have the trailer all to themselves. It’s a rare treat, especially since the Harrington Residence became off-limits with his parents home from their business trip.
Eddie has it all planned out: ‘one week to fuck themselves into an early grave’. 
Eddie’s words, not his.
And it’s some much-needed time alone because Steve learned quickly that Eddie is loud. One night when Wayne was still home, Steve slipped through Eddie’s window for a little midnight fun, only to be met with Wayne’s insistent knocking on the bedroom door once they really got going. 
It was mortifying, really. And Steve’s glad Wayne is relatively cool with it. Cool as long as they don’t involuntarily include him through sound that is. So yeah, that night ended mutually blue-balled, and from then on they tried to time it a little better. Make sure Wayne is away or drive the van somewhere remote and have some uncomfortable car sex.
So Eddie is fun and hot and vocal, but there’s one thing he absolutely can’t do—
“I’m going to bite your drumstick,” Eddie says as he sinks his teeth into the delicate flesh of Steve’s inner thigh. Eddie’s cheek graces his rapidly hardening dick still trapped in cotton boxers and Steve lets out a sound—a choked moan as the words sink in. 
Eddie is steadily working his way up, tongue and teeth moving up his leg and curious fingers dipping underneath the cotton-covered skin of his upper thigh. Steve’s mind is lagging—trapped somewhere between aroused enjoyment and absolute bewilderment.
“W—what did you just say?” Steve can’t keep the strain on his voice from slipping in.
Eddie’s teeth release his flesh and he raises his head from between Steve’s legs. He holds Steve’s eyes for a second before looking away. Steve feels something whispered against his skin. 
“Eddie?”
“I said,” Eddie still looks away, defiant and shy, “ I’m going to bite your drumstick.” He whispers that last part, but this time Steve is sure he heard correctly. He feels a smile pull at his lips and the muscles in his stomach straining with barely contained laughter.
“Drumstick ?” his voice is high and strained, almost a cry.
Eddie frowns at him. “It’s not that funny.” 
It is. Once the laughter starts, he can’t stop. Steve is full-on laughing. His body is shaking with it as Eddie lifts himself from between Steve’s legs into a sitting position. 
“Drumstick!” Steve repeats shrieking.
Eddie’s frown grows. He pushes himself away from Steve until he’s standing on the side of the bed. Eddie doesn’t seem to find it very funny. Steve realizes his mistake too late as he wills his body to calm down. Eddie’s eyes move over Steve’s chest, barely contained laughter making muscles jerk every now and then.
Before Steve can stop him, Eddie is walking towards the door of his bedroom. 
“Wait, Eddie. Please, stay! I—” Steve can’t finish his sentence before Eddie slams the door behind him. 
Now the shock is kinda settling in, Steve realizes it may not have been as amusing to Eddie.
Eddie, who was serious in his attempt at dirty talk. 
Eddie, to whom sex is new and doesn’t understand it doesn’t have to be that serious. 
“Fuck,” Steve whispers to himself. 
Steve doesn’t believe in astrology, but he definitely thinks the whole ‘fucking themselves into an early grave’ thing isn’t written in the stars tonight. 
With a sigh, he lifts himself off the bed. Eddie won’t have gone far. Not in his current state of dress, which was a pair of dumb Muppet boxers.
When Steve enters the main area of the trailer, he sees Eddie rummaging through the fridge. He stands illuminated by the cool fridge light and pulls out a beer. He forcefully sets it down on the kitchen counter and Steve watches as Eddie opens it with a hiss. It overflows and Eddie curses as he leans down to catch it with his mouth.
“Eddie?” Steve tries tentatively.
Eddie ignores him. Instead, he picks up the beer and takes a big swig as he moves to the couch. He throws himself down, shifts down, and rests his elbows on the back of the couch. 
A perfect picture of indifference.
Steve crosses his arms. He hates it when Eddie gets like this, all sulky and stubborn. By now, he knows Eddie wants him to keep prodding and poking until he relents, but it’s a dumb dance. Dumb, but one he’s willing to do because he’s just that stupidly in love.
He walks over to the couch and stands in front of it. Eddie is purposely avoiding his gaze as he sips with theatrical nonchalance from his can.
“Can I help you?” he speaks into the can, his voice deformed by its aluminum interior.
“Don’t be like that.” Steve gets down to his knees and settles himself between Eddie’s legs. He runs his hands up Eddie’s thighs soothingly.
Eddie ignores him. He takes a big gulp of his beer and holds the can out in front of him, studying it with mild interest.
“Eddie, c’mon.” Steve pleads, “How will we fuck ourselves to death if we aren’t fucking.” 
Steve is playing dirty. Talking his way into Eddie’s plan— their plan. He knows Eddie’s stubbornness has its limits.
Eddie finally offers him a glance. Steve sees a spark of poorly concealed interest.
“How about you go fuck yourself?” The words are harsh, but when Steve looks up he doesn’t see malice in Eddie’s eyes. Just mild annoyance.
“How about I do?”
Steve sees a glint appear in Eddie’s eyes, and now he knows he’s got him. 
“Sit.” Eddie lifts one of his legs and sets his foot against the coffee table. Steve climbs to his feet and does as he is told. The wooden surface feels cold against his bare legs. He stares at Eddie with anticipation bubbling in his gut.
“A lil’ wider.” Eddie takes a final gulp and pushes Steve’s legs apart with his foot. He feels his dick twitch with arousal. It’s something new and exciting he hasn’t experienced before; pushing the boundaries of what they’re familiar with. Eddie throws his empty beer can in the general vicinity of the kitchen, eyes not leaving Steve.
Eddie pushes his foot against Steve’s dick, giving it a few rubs through his boxers and scoffs. “Take it off.”
Steve fakes coyness as he lifts his hips ever so slightly to peel the fabric away. Once it’s halfway down his thighs, Eddie’s foot comes up to pull it all the way down.
Eddie shifts in his seat, legs spread wide and his own growing interest barely concealed. His eyes are blown wide as he looks at Steve, lips slightly parted and fingers flexing. 
“Touch yourself,” Eddie orders. 
Steve spreads his legs a little wider and palms himself; wraps his fingers around his cock and starts at the top to spread some of the precome that collected there. Runs his hand down slowly, eyes not leaving Eddie. He watches his face—studies it really. Eddie can hardly keep a straight face, his exaggerated annoyance slipping fast.
Steve strokes himself slow and steady until he’s fully hard, cock standing tall and proud. Eddie shifts again, adjusts himself with his eyes fixed on Steve’s moving hand. His sulking demeanor now completely replaced by something softer, more hungry. Still, he’s a little stubborn. Refuses to touch himself, even when Steve ups his pace. Even when Steve whispers his name.
“Suck your fingers.” Eddie's voice comes out breathy. He bites his lip and rubs a restless hand on his leg. Fingers flexing with barely maintained self-restraint and chest heaving in arousal.
Steve wonders how long Eddie will last as he brings two fingers up to his mouth and slowly rubs them on the soft pad of his tongue.
“Fuck,” Eddie groans. His fingers are digging in his thighs now. Erection straining against the fabric of his stupid muppet boxers. 
Steve fucks the fingers in and out of his mouth. He’s making a mess now. Saliva dripping down the palm of his hand. He imagines it’s Eddie. Can almost imagine the weight of him on his tongue—
“Fuck yourself open for me.” Eddie presses himself back on the couch, feet firmly planted on the ground as his hips seem to lift ever so slightly.
Steve feels an involuntary gasp escape his lips. 
So, Eddie is bad at dirty talk, but he is apparently very adept at whatever it is they’re doing now.
Steve thinks this is probably the most turned on he’s ever been in his life.
He shifts his hips, tilting them to allow himself a little more room. He pulls his fingers from his mouth and pushes a wet finger in. He winces a little at the feeling. Not entirely unpleasant, just strange. It wasn’t the first time they’d done it like that after all, but Steve couldn’t say he was an expert. 
He moves his finger a little, pumps it in and out in tandem with the hand on his cock. Lets out a little moan as he feels himself relax around it and adds a second one. 
Eddie is staring him down. It’s a type of focus Steve doesn’t see often. Eddie seems to have lost most of his restraint, He is lazily grinding his palm against the tent in his boxers now. 
“Fuck,” he groans, “Steve, c’mere.”
Before Steve can give any sign he will be moving it all, Eddie pushes his own boxers down, dick bouncing free and happy from its confines, 
“I thought I should go fuck myself,” he breathes. He barely gets the words out coherently. He’s breathing hard, hands collaborating like a perfect machine. 
“I changed my mind.” Eddie shifts himself in a more upright position, leans forward and grabs Steve’s wrists, willing them to still. 
Steve whines. “So I’m forgiven?”
“You will be if you get on my cock right now.”
“That depends on where you left the lube,” Steve says eying the bedroom door.
“First drawer as always. Go get it, tiger.” Eddie winks at him, “I’ll keep it warm for you.” He gives his dick a few lazy strokes and Steve rolls his eyes.
He quickly gathers the lube. Decides to grab a towel too, for Wayne’s sake, and makes his way back to the living room. 
“Catch!”
He throws the bottle to Eddie. He barely manages to raise his hand in time. The bottle bounces off his hand and lands on the couch. 
“I thought you were making it up to me. This is violence!” he cries waving his hand in fake hurt. Eddie is grinning from ear to ear. 
“Fine, redo,” Steve says as he balls the towel and throws it Eddie’s way. He catches it this time and works it under him. 
“C’mere.” Eddie pats his lap and pulls Steve in by his neck to sit him down. Eddie places an open-mouthed kiss on his lips, diving in tongue first, and Steve whimpers. It’s all hot and wet and messy. No patience left for anything more coherent. Eddie snakes a hand on his lower back and pulls him forward until their dicks are pressed flush together. Steve moves his hand between them, wraps his hand around the both of them and moves it eagerly.
Eddie moans into his mouth and Steve swallows it, pressing his lips over Eddie’s, breathing him in like air. 
“Lube?” he mouths against Eddie’s lips. Keeps stroking the two of them at an agonizingly slow rate.
Eddie lets go of Steve then, reaches for the bottle and squirts a generous helping on his hand, smears it between them, and swats Steve’s hand away as one hand reaches for their cocks and the other finds its way between Steve’s cheeks. 
Eddie wastes no time and picks up where Steve left off with two fingers inside him. Works him open well and deep as his other hand works their cocks—a little faster than Steve did. It’s overwhelming and Steve can’t stop the sounds that escape him. Every now and then he feels Eddie hit that spot. Feels a sharp wave of pleasure roll over him that makes his back arch and makes him lose all his senses. If it goes on for too long he won’t last.
“I’m ready.” he pants.
Eddie doesn’t need to be told twice. He pulls his fingers away and Steve mourns the loss, if only for a second. He doesn’t have to wait long. Eddie places two heavy hands on his hips, holding Steve as he guides him. Eddie groans loudly, whines at the slowness with which Steve works him in. 
“Fuck, you feel so good, Stevie. Perfect every time.”
Steve feels heat rise to his cheeks. It’s ridiculous that he sits there with a cock up his ass and it’s Eddie’s praise that makes him blush like a virgin. 
It always does.
Once Eddie bottoms out, Steve takes a moment to adjust before moving again. It’s an agonizingly slow rate, he knows. He leans back, hands on Eddie’s knees as he slowly works himself up and down. Eddie is watching him. Worshiping him as he runs his hands up and down Steve’s sides, guiding him on his lap. 
Steve picks up his tempo, hitting that spot more consistently now as Eddie fucks up into him. 
“So good for me,” Eddie whispers against his neck as he leans forward, one hand sprawled on Steve’s lower back to bring them closer. The other finds Steve’s cock, strokes it in a messy attempt at rhythm. Steve’s movement grows more erratic until Eddie is doing most of the heavy lifting. Fucking up into Steve at a punishing rate, stroking him until Steve feels wave after wave of pleasure course through him like electric current. Pressure building low in his abdomen, moaning and groaning together with Eddie as he approaches his peak. 
Back arched and biting his lip, he paints Eddie’s stomach in come as Eddie continues to fuck into him. 
“Just a little more, baby.” Eddie groans against his throat, bites at it as his hips begin to stutter and he hits Steve deep and hard. Eddie lets out an animalistic grunt and Steve leans forward, his body heavily against Eddie’s, arms around his neck. Eddie gives a last few lazy pumps, lips loving lazily over Steve’s throat, pressing kisses at the ghost of his teeth.
Their skin is sweat-slick, chests heaving, and Steve can feel Eddie’s hammering heartbeat reverberate where their chests are touching. Merging until they beat as one. 
He buries his face in Eddie’s hair, the curls tickling his nose as he breathes in deep. He smells like cigarettes, hairspray, and cheap shampoo, and Steve revels in the comfort. Eddie’s hand is drawing lazy circles on his back when Steve pulls back. 
“So, about those drumsticks,” Steve starts sheepishly.
“Oh, no, no, no, Steve. That topic is officially off-limits! Prohibidado !”
Steve rolls his eyes and leans down to peck Eddie’s lips. 
“Consider it forgotten.”
“Then consider yourself forgiven. Thank you for saving fuck-week.”
“We’re not calling it fuck-week.”
“I so am. Now, let’s get washed up, huh?” He slaps Steve’s ass as he says so.
“I’m regretting this already.” Steve lifts himself off Eddie and stands up, legs a little shaky from his position. 
“No take-backsies,” Eddie says as he places a kiss on Steve’s cheek and guides them towards the bathroom.
AO3
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bunniehrtz · 5 months ago
Text
RED WINE SUPERNOVA
cowboy!sevika heard you like magic. she’s got a wand
and that’s it
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“whatcha got there?” you ask, looking up at sevika, confused. she stands before you, at the foot of your bed, her hands behind her back. she shuffles on her feet, rocking back and forth, a faux innocence plastered on her face.
“guess,” sevika replies, ever so smugly. she furrows her eyebrows at the roll of your eyes, watching you lay down on her pillow.
“could literally be anything. just show me,” you smirk, picking your head back up to watch her.
sevika brings her hands around, showing you a box containing a pink wand vibrator.
“you’re kidding,” you say in a whisper, hiding your warming cheeks in your hands.
“you wanna try it out?”
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“oh- fuck!” your screams of pleasure echo throughout the house. you worry about being heard by your neighbours, possibly the whole street. these thoughts are immediately wiped away by the buzz and vibrations of the toy being placed delicately on your weeping, engorged clit.
“how’s that, darlin? how’s that feel?” sevika whispers, biting down on her bottom lip as she pushes the toy ever so slightly further into your sex. her eyes darken at the sight of your back arching off the mattress, your legs lifting up to wrap around her waist. she sits between your legs, her left hand holding onto your thigh, the other holding the handle of the toy.
“god- fuck! sev!” you shriek, hiding your warmed, sweating face in the crook of her neck, your teeth sinking into the flesh. she takes this as it feels good.
“oh, i know, baby. just feels so good. aren’t you happy i got this for us?” she teases, biting back a laugh at your quick nods and whimpers muffled by her own skin.
“yes- thank you! thank you, sev- fuck!” you manage to spit out, in between screeches of pleasure.
“atta girl. always usin’ those manners,” she shakes her head happily, moving her hand from your thigh to your waist, pushing you back to lay against the bed.
between heavy breaths, you claw at sevika’s back and say, “more, please!”
“gotta tell me more than that, baby. you want my fingers?” sevika smiles down at you, her left hand trailing down your stomach to your cunt, her hand placed delicately at your entrance. you nod feverishly, bucking and grinding your hips forwardly at sevika.
you plead softly, whispers of please, please, please leave your mouth as you feel sev push her index and middle fingers inside, her mouth watering at the way your body reacts to her touch, the way your knees shake, the way your back arches off of the mattress, the way you clench around her fingers. sevika tries to take it all in, but your screams of satisfaction pull her back into reality.
sevika knows your body well, she knows what makes you tick, how to get you close. she feels your sex become tighter, your abdomen tensing, your legs spread further and she knows. she leans over to place soft kisses on your thighs, subtly turning the toy to the highest setting.
“know you’re close, baby. come on, cum on my fingers, darlin,” sevika whispers into your thigh, pushing you over the edge. your sight goes fuzzy, the band in your stomach snapping as you feel yourself let go.
“oh, my girl. my good, beautiful girl. my best girl,” sevika whispers, pressing kisses from your thighs to your stomach, from your stomach to your breasts, from your breasts to your chest, up to your neck. she lands slow, open mouthed kisses to your neck, in that sweet spot she knows so well. you whimper softly at the feeling, lifting your hands to her hair.
sevika looks up into your glazed over eyes, sitting up to place a kiss on your swollen lips. you lengthen the kiss by swiping your tongue over her bottom lip, her mouth opening immediately in response. you hear a whisper, a whine, and a..click?
“sevika! fuck! can you turn that off?”
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koenigami · 1 year ago
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you're so used to his presence that his absence scared you
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It’s one of those nights in which the lands of dreams seem so far away. Your eyelids feel heavy, your eyes burn, and you would think sleep will soon, in the next few minutes or even seconds wash over you. But it never comes.
It’s funny, you think. One night. Just one night that he isn’t lying there beside you, and all of a sudden the thoughts and fears in your mind are too loud. The tumult in your head makes your limbs fidget as you keep tossing and turning, sighing and groaning while you wonder if you’ll even be able to fall asleep tonight. The silly thought of if you’ll actually ever be able to fall asleep again passes your mind, and as ridiculous as it sounds, in your tired and miserable state it is a concern that makes you tear up a little.
You try to imagine his arm thrown around you, the heaviness of it pressing into your side, the warmth of his hand as it settles beneath your chest so that you can hold onto his forearm.
But it’s not there. Your bedroom feels cold and dark without him. An ever consuming darkness that plays tricks on you and turns every shadow into a menacing figure. Every creak and groan of your old floorboards and furniture makes you flinch, wrapping your blanket tighter around you and higher up to your chin as if it could shield you from the inexistent danger that your brain has come up with.
You realise that sleeping without him feels like living without oxygen. It’s not possible.
A new case. A new detainee. Too much paperwork. You wonder if he’ll even come home tonight. What if he just crashes on the couch in his office? He will surely-
And then there’s another creak outside your bedroom, somewhere in the hallway. You tense, hold your breath and don’t dare to inhale or exhale, all while keeping your eyes fixated on the door. Steps. They’re slow and calculated, and you surely would not be aware of them if you were asleep. But you’re not. And your brain isn’t either because it tells you to run, hide, fight, and you’re not sure in which order.
With wide eyes and the blanket up to your nose, you watch the knob turn and the door opens slowly. More darkness flows into the room followed by another large, imposing shadow. All you hear is your deafening heartbeat until there’s a familiar clinking of metall. His handcuffs.
You follow Wriothesley’s figure as he navigates through the bedroom. Like every other night, he puts his keys and handcuffs on the nightstand, he changes into comfortable pyjama pants, he shortly leaves the room to wash his teeth, and eventually the mattress dips and you swear you can feel the warmth radiating off him.
“Y/n?” you hear him whisper in surprise. “Sweetheart, why are you awake?”
He lies down and you instinctively snuggle against him, like a moth being attracted by the light, your body gravitates towards his and his to yours. Your eyes close briefly when he cups the side of your face, his thumb gliding back and forth over your skin.
You shrug sheepishly. A moment of silence passes while you think about whether you should say it or not, but you do.
“Can’t sleep without you.” As if two little children sharing a secret between each other during their first sleepover, Wriothesley and you look at each other. The streetlights from outside shine on his eyes as he moves his head, allowing you to catch a glimpse of the fondness with which he’s looking at you.
And as if not sure how to answer, the chuckle vibrating through his chest echoes in the room. “Missed me that much?”
He nudges your forehead with his, and you can’t control your hands when each of them settles on one cheek of his as if they have a mind of their own.
He has shaved today, you note, feeling the softness of his skin beneath your palms.
“More than you know.” It’s another secret, another whisper that carries so much weight, Wriothesley feels like you might as well have just shouted it at him.
There’s a shriek followed by giggles and laughter when he turns his head to nibble on the inside of your hand before enveloping you in an almost suffocating embrace. You can’t remember the thoughts that have been keeping you awake when he holds you against his chest like that, with your ear right above his heart. You forget about the noises and fear that made you shake like a leaf before he arrived, because somehow it’s not as dark as before.
“I love you, Y/n.”
Because somehow it’s always better when he’s around.
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