mothvalentino

[mothvalentino]

@dark-ambition said: “Thisss heatwave making you more rowdy than usual, I take it? Or just more in the mood for crasss jokes?”

ཐིཋྀ "Hot, sweaty, exerted bodies, melting ice, white fluid squirted on skin, splashing each other soaking wet... hmm, yes, I love summer, baby~"

[mothvalentino]

His chest shakes with a quiet chuckle, tongue licking the upper row of his teeth to recover Gritt's taste. A moment longer, he stares at him in the relative darkness, then suddenly opens his wings, exposing them to the world outside the crimson cocoon. Valentino leans back in his seat, upper arms extended on the backrest. The hand on the imp's tail, however, resumes its ministrations.

ཐིཋྀ "My apologies... didn't want to rope you into a... situation.", the pimp lies with a broad grin, eyes darting to the group of fans quickly turning around when he catches them gawking.

"I'm sure you have places to be... people to entertain..."

Reel in, let go, repeat.

"... but if you want more than a foretaste, here's my number."

After putting his phone away, the tall moth studies the other demon's face, silently daring him. He's curious how far he can push him tonight, how far he's willing to go without the veil of privacy.

Gritt felt the tongue asking for permission, and parted his jaws to let it press inside. His own tongue slid forward, curling and nudging against it as their sounds were contained by it.

He could feel his hips twitching, both his needs slick or firm beneath his pants. His own hands moved from their fluff, sliding to the open chest of his outfit while clawtips mirrored what they were doing to his own. Light white lines against lavender skin, not breaking it, but enough to feel.

Gritt made a soft sound as his head was pulled back, his tail curling around the wrist of the hand that kept teasing it.

"You're -ah- one to talk. Makin' a mess in here." Gritt could feel it between his legs, and his scent was clear in the contained area. Sweet, like honey.

[mothvalentino]

ཐིཋྀ "It's not that deep..."

"... unless it's me."

[mothvalentino]

The winding tip of his tongue slips out to lick away cerise trickles of drool leaking from his own mouth. His gaze darts from one arousing sight to the next. Vox's hips grinding against him, his abdomen bulging with his length, the gorgeous colors on his face, and both of them captured and showcased on multiple screens. It's overwhelming in the best way.

Grunting, Valentino grabs Vox's ass, claws digging in.

ཐིཋྀ "You're so fucking wet.", he growls, a little rushed and breathless as he lifts the smaller Vee's pelvis just so he can hear the salacious squelch as he yanks him back down on his cock.

"Better than any whore."

Vox knows his kinks, and Val knows his.

His thumbs end up on the TV demon's iliac crests and trap his cocks against the skin, stroking up and down along their lengths with the rolling grind of Vox's movements.

"Mmh~ Look how deep I'm in..."

As predicted, the moth can't resist thrusting up into his lover's body, less forceful than he moved before, but with no less relish. He watches his cock slide in and out, lips parting with a muted sigh. Once he's taken to the base again, Val uses his grip on Vox to keep himself right there. No inch left in between as he revels in the sensation of being entirely surrounded by bliss.

"Yes, that's all me, baby... do you feel nice and full?"

His voice, while still deep, is breathier than before. The rough edge of arousal tinged with heartfelt adoration. Valentino carefully sits up, one hand reaching for the back of Vox's neck. Almost pulling him into a kiss, but stopping himself to hear his partner's response.

    Bottoming has cons upon cons upon cons. The mess localises inside of you; control slips out from under you unless you enter with a plan; you let a person closer to you than anyone else has ever been. He supposes that's why Valentino is the only one he wants to do it with; and fuck, he makes it feel so good.

    When he's properly bottomed out, he stills, adjusting to the sensation. Valentino fits inside him like he's a glove made for him, and the humiliation of that thought sends his face into deep, filthy shades of blue that accentuate the quickly paling pink of his eyes, widened with wrestled pleasure. He ghosts a hand over his lower belly, and bites back a moan when his claws brush up against it bulging.

    He locks eyes with Valentino like the desk beneath them doesn't exist, nor the screens, nor anything that isn't his lover. There's many times he wishes he could tell him all about that love. This is one.

    There's a pause; Vox checks that he's recording. Then, he starts to move, slow ups and downs of his hips as his palms spread out on Valentino's chest, pushing him deeper into the desk, fingers arching like his back as he struggles to control his own volume. He squeezes him tight, as possessive as he feels possessed. It's one thing to groan lowly, and it's another to sound like some fucking porn actor. But muting himself isn't an option when it comes to Valentino.

    〝Tell me how it feels,〞  he demands between pants,  〝Tell me I'm good.〞

    His mind always wanders back to Angel Dust. The concept of a pimped out whore and then the concept of himself. There can't be anything more erotic than the possibility of hearing Valentino's voice affirming that he's better. That he's the best. Stark red lines shoot down from either side of his mouth at the thought alone.

    〝Don't— stop talking for a second.〞

[mothvalentino]

Val rewards her with a playful kiss, smiling and tugging at her bottom lip with his teeth after breaking away. But instead of giving Vel what she wants, he slowly removes his hand from between her legs, stroking upwards over her mound and gently squeezing her clit between his fingers before he gives a her a light slap.

ཐིཋྀ "Have you?", he asks teasingly, one brow raised as half-lidded eyes wander down her face and neck, ultimately staring at her exposed chest.

Trapping a groan in his throat, Valentino momentarily loses himself in the view of his hands holding her breasts. His gaze pans back up to watch her expression when he presses a little harder, nails leaving crescent marks on her skin. A little roughness soothed with indulgent licks as he moves lower, caressing each small dent with his tongue. Gradually, he kisses and laps his way between her legs until his head hovers right above her sex.

Sharp teeth nibble at Velvette's inner thigh, cerise glowing eyes never leaving her face. Val grins, exhaling against her. Breakfast in bed indeed.

"How about I give you something better..."

Not that his hands aren't miracles of their own, but when compared to his tongue...

The first lick is featherlight, barely touching her, yet savoring the taste. Valentino hums and blinks slowly, then finally offers more. He moves closer, now using his lips and his tongue as he lathes his venom on the outside. His free hands wrap around Vel's thighs, keeping them open whilst digging his claws in. He starts to move his head, mouth alternating between noisy licks, sucks, and kisses. Only when he feels her spasming under him, walls desperately clenching around nothing, does his tongue slide in. Poison-coated and smooth, coiling and writhing inside.

Leaving no inch unfilled until he sighs heavily, taking a second to regulate his breathing while heat gathers between his legs. The slick muscle begins to thrust in and out, slow at first but quickly gaining momentum. Meanwhile, his upper hands keep squeezing her breasts, harder each time he pushes inside.

She's definitely smug about the fact that she'd drawn out a groan from such a simple touch, but she is also aware that his antenna were particularly sensitive. It's something that she's used against him quite a few times and likely would continue to do as such, but she eases off now in favour of simply getting to enjoy him in a surprisingly good mood for being someone who had just been woken up relatively unexpectedly.

She'll thank the kisses for working, she thinks.

"You absolute bitch," Velvette laughs breathlessly against his lips when he only presses in just a slight, her hands linking behind his neck and gently petting him again. She'll admit, it's a little easier to focus until he makes a point of reminding her that he has complete leverage over her, with the way he's able to touch her in every single spot that he knows drives her insane.

She manages to keep herself mostly together until he presses against her harder, and Velvette sighs in relief; her head tipping back against his pillows with a moan. She doesn't know how long it takes, perhaps it had only been a few seconds, or perhaps it had been a good minute of build up - but Velvette finds it difficult to keep herself still, and her fingers are curling into fists against his back.

"Pretty, pretty please would you just fuck me with your fingers already?" Probably the most polite she was going to get unless he drove her to a complete state of desperation, though he was getting there. Velvette bites her lip, stifling a small groan. "I've been good." Added in as a little extra, mostly as a test just to see if it would be convincing enough.

[mothvalentino]

A hoe is currently hydrating after pole rehearsal

ཐིཋྀ "How about I get a bucket of water and dump it on you? Actually, tell the others to come in here. We're having a wet t-shirt contest."

[mothvalentino]

It’s very hot so chanel is looking like a melted puddle of cookies and cream

ཐིཋྀ "Can't relate, Chan. I love this hot, humid weather, the less clothes the better~ Helps that my sweat smells like my poison too, all aphrodisiac goodness."

That being said, Val starts flapping his wings, fanning the puppy puddle on the floor.

[mothvalentino]

A hoe is on the phone frustrated “FOR THE LAST TIME EGGS ARE NOT DAIRY YOU STUPID HOE!”

Someone out here matching his loudass craziness? The moth is momentarily stunned. Though frowning.

[mothvalentino]

// I am still suffering but ordered tasty food

[mothvalentino]

ཐིཋྀ "Damn. Sounds like you had a lot of fun until your henchmen betrayed you."

"Well, at least you died in battle, same as me. Though I wish I'd have the guts to betray my boss at the last minute. Granted, a shootout with the police is on a much smaller scale compared to waging full-out war. I died from a bullet to the heart. My last view was the man I hated most bleeding out on the floor. I suppose both of our deaths were sort of poetic in a fucked up way."

The question has Pentious let out the tiniest bit of a snort, a mild outburst of laughter that makes his shoulders shake faintly, his lips turn up in a grin as his eyes flick to gaze toward Valentino’s face, sipping once more from his drink before answering. “The war I died in was my own. The 19th century, the exact year being 1888, far before you were born; about a ssssolid 54 yearsss, actually. It was a war that I wasss waging myself, and my enemiesss in this long arduoussss task was the world in it’s entirety. Every sssingle country on every sssingle continent, island, or everything in between. I wished it all to be mine to own, mine to rule, and I would ssseek take it by force if not relinquished to me peacefully. My weaponsss, powerful, cutting edge, far ahead of their time, were in the hands of thousands who marched in my name, devoted to my cause of tearing down the old powersss that ruled, and they tore through entire armiesss like they were paper, the numbers of my ships looming in the air numerousss enough to blot out the sky itssself..”

He takes a slightly longer swig of his drink, merely letting the sweet taste linger on his tongue for a moment, before his grin drops a touch. “…Bullet to the gut from my own trusssted general who turned rogue, craven from regrets of the actions he committed under my name. Snuck some international agents aboard my flagship, who proceeded to rush me and overtake my efforts to fight back, beating me to the ground and not stopping long until I was a bloody messss on the ground. They had destroyed the primary engine of my ship with an explossssive, as it was crossing over the Atlantic. My lassst view was the ocean’s surface, rushing up to meet me, and then…I woke up falling into Hell.”

[mothvalentino]

ཐིཋྀ "Daddy and mommy issues, huh?"

Same for Val. His... boss was an abusive, psychopathic smuggler, and his mother a prostitute who got killed when he was eight.

"Whatever, I was hoping we might profit from your family's connections in some way... money, servants, that sort of thing..."

"... could you, theoretically, still ask your daddy for favors?"

Euphoria grimaced at the question, her elf-like ears pinning down slightly. before she'd lean into him. " Hm.. sort've I guess? Father spends a lot of time working, ya know on important things! " she was quick to add that second part. giving an excuse for her father never being around.

" But.. I have been gone for a while now.. " 'if he'd even noticed' she'd inwardly think.

She's never met her mother, and was raised to a neglectful Father. if anything, the Maids and servants did more of the actual work in raising her.

[mothvalentino]

// I feel like absolute shit today but managed to put two drafts in the queue yay..

[mothvalentino]

ཐིཋྀ "Of course you're buying, handsome.", Val grinned before waving one of the waitresses over,

"I'll have the usual, Misty."

No need to say that she should put it on the gentleman's tab. Guests always paid for Valentino.

"I'm sure you remember my name from the announcement, right? Given how intently you watched my performance. But just in case..."

Smoothly, the moth slid to the other side of the booth. Now sitting right next to the TV demon, he lowered his head and whispered, a few inches away from Vox's face.

"I'm Valentino."

Meanwhile, one of his upper arms settled on the backrest behind his company. Still close, Val let his breath cloud Vox's screen and wrote his name in the condensation, the i letter dotted with a tiny heart.

This was the place. Yes, he heard of this club and he had come with one intent, only. He needed to find the perfect sinner to join him in his plan. A business plan that he had formulated and one that he was sure wouldn’t fail. Hell was rich with sinners who had no experience or access to real entertainment and Vox wanted to change that. Not just change it – he wanted to control it. All of it. The media should belong to someone who understood what it took to run the media. Someone who knew his way around television and being televised, was charming and well versed in how to talk to people. A con man that had done just that for years before an unfortunate accident had taken his life. And that’s why he had come here because Vox wasn’t just looking to upgrade Hell into a new era of technology and entertainment, he wanted to control the content being made. To do that he needed one of Hell’s biggest attractions as part of his brand. He needed to sell sex. What better way to do that then to find someone who knew exactly what they were doing? It would make sense that someone with experience would be the best candidate to direct such a big piece of what would become his brand, his empire, here in Hell.

The TV Demon had entered the club quietly. Being recognized by some as a new face on the scene. An Overlord that was slowly coming into the spotlight on his own achievements. That at least earned him some space and respect from the other patrons that eyed him as he made his way to his seat. He wasn’t here to drool over dancers or strippers, no no that wasn’t his thing. Vox was a very poised businessman. Not unlike the desperate horny bastards that filled the place, eye humping anyone who paid them any mind. There was a specific type of sinner he was looking for here. So he couldn’t afford some petty distractions like that. Which was why he only ordered one drink for himself. At least to make himself a little more comfortable and if only to ease the mind of mindful sinners, nervous about an Overlord being in their vicinity.

Brothels and strip clubs were not a new concept. Even though in his decade such pleasures were to be kept as hidden, guilty pleasures. As being found at such places would be disgraceful, distasteful and shameful. Even worse if a man were to walk into a club that had male dancers. Not that he was looking for an exact gender to help him, he just needed someone who knew what they were doing. Vox himself didn't think too much of other men anyway. Not really.. Some stray feelings were hardly something he accounted for being anything. Oh but when his gaze lifted to meet his, he lifted a brow. Almost as soon as he flashed his chest and then the rest of his outfit, Vox was drawn in. Unable to take his eyes off of him and eating up the display he put on without hardly realizing it. So much so that he didn’t even notice the pleased smirk that had come across his display while he watched on quietly, never once losing his calm composure. Unlike the shameless sinners around him who howled and cheered for the moth as he made his way off the stage. Well.. it looked like he certainly knew how to keep a crowd entertained. But was he the one he was looking for? Maybe.

Vox had a mind to finish his drink and maybe go inquire about him. But he didn’t even have to do that much before the pretty moth had made his way to his booth on his own. The Overlord had just taken a long casual sip from his drink when Val sat opposite of him. Slowly, his gaze lifted to him and he set his glass down with a soft clink to the table. The same, pleased smirk still gracing his display. The TV Demon sat upright, his hand folded on the table in front of him, while the other clutched his glass. Keeping his calm, poised demeanor despite the fact that he seemingly caught the attention of this sinner without even trying. Hell, he hadn’t even said a single word to him and somehow he had still found his way over here. Not that it would have mattered who had approached who because he was planning on seeking him out regardless. So maybe they had caught each other’s attention. Something new for Vox since he’d been in Hell and a nice change for once. All things considered.

“You could say that,” Vox answered coolly. “You really seem to know what you’re doing. Having the crowd practically eating out of the palms of your hands. It’s actually quite impressive. And I might be interested in seeing more…” He paused for a moment, shamelessly letting his own gaze travel up and down him from where he sat. Then he took another moment to sip from his drink again, all the while keeping his gaze on him from over the top of his glass.

Clink. He didn’t speak up again until he’d set his glass down once more. “What’s the rush, though? You’re so quick to sell me, haha–I like that. I’m Vox. It’s really a pleasure to meet you. Care to join me for a drink or two? I don’t think that’s against the rules here, if I’m buying, right?”

[mothvalentino]

@murdxrxfcrxws cont. from here

Val checks her out with a shark smile, gaze panning up and down her body, before he quickly grabs her and bends her over his lap.

ཐིཋྀ "You look like you could use a spanking~", he chuckles diabolically, one hand wrapping around her neck while another settles on the small of her back, right above the generous cutout on the backside.

His palm moves lower, now fondling two soft mounds of naked skin.

"Mmh~ You've been a bad girl, haven't you?"

[mothvalentino]

Val watches the sudden series of movements, his blank stare gradually sharpening into a scowl.

ཐིཋྀ "I smoke cigarettes, cabrón... the same fucking brand of Hellboros since I fucking ended up here.", he grumbles, but the truth is, he couldn't give two shits about Vox fumbling that detail.

What really angers him is the hypocrisy in his statement.

"Anything, huh?"

Valentino sits up straighter, still glaring at his partner as he's about to put his claims to the test. A tension-filled pause ensues, the pimp snatching his lighter back before he speaks in a lower voice.

"Then tell me that you love me."

    It's not enough.

    Vox sees the worlds in numbers first. There's logic to everything that anyone does, except for himself, except for Valentino. There'll never be enough numbers to do the math for what they both think and do; how his thoughts fuzz when he's around him, and how he always knows what the right thing is to say and yet, in these precious moments, can't bring himself to say them. Like he would be rewarding Valentino. Why is that such a bad thing?

    It stings that he doesn't reach out his hand to light that cigar. Some useless, metal box does it for him. Something made by others and not by the self. He thinks of a world without lighters, where he might be the only thing Valentino could turn to for such a simple desire.

    〝Val—〞

    His arms unwind so that he can crawl up higher and grab either side of Valentino's face, to make him keep looking at him. The ceiling doesn't matter. Fuck that ceiling.

    〝I really— if you need anything, you get it, you know? I'd give you anything.〞  His eyes may as well embed themselves into Valentino's skull. He scrambles to make sense.  〝I'll always light your cigar.〞  He reaches for the lighter like it's a snake in the grass and he wants to stomp its stupid fucking head in.   〝You don't need that.〞

[mothvalentino]

ཐིཋྀ "Of course you do.", Val lilts when Striker says that he already knows the moth.

Lucky for the cowboy, he's susceptible to flattery, be it cheap or not.

"Hmm... how about we meet at Consent tonight? I'm usually at that club between 1 and 5am."

"Just come to the VIP section and I'll save you a seat~"

Striker would raise an eyebrow at the manner they spoke, wondering if they knew exactly what profession he had, but there was something else about the way they said it, and it had to be said that the moth was a rather unique sinner... Striker appreciated uniqueness, especially when they knew how to use puns properly.

"Names Striker and I already know yours, Valentino, hard not to know someone as special as yourself. Guess it'd be no surprise since I did make this gathering of lava lamps to get you here."

[mothvalentino]

Dolce and Gabana are currently hiding with Angel while Val threw a tantrum.

All three of them are sitting in the walk-in closet in Val's upstairs bedroom.

🕷 "Handlin' Val is like walkin' on a minefield. It's not ya fault, girlies. Ya could've just... moved your head the wrong way and he'd lash out."