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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 3 months ago

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book 7 chapter 13 part 2 (book 7 finale!!) thoughts

***THIS POST CONTAINS MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR BOOK 7 PART 13 OF THE MAIN STORY!!*** This spans part 328 to part 349.

This (finally) conclude book 7!!

Please note: this is NOT meant to be a summary or a translation; these are only my initial thoughts on the events that roughly unfold. There may be details overlooked or misunderstood in this post, so PLEASE do not use this as a translation.

ALRIGHT FELLAS, LOCK IN.

We open with a scene of the final confrontation against Malleus (like one of Yuu’s dreams/visions).

Everyone is slowly waking up. UHHH it’s not a pretty sight though, Malleus has grown into his full dragon form and crashed through the ceiling. His voice is becoming distorted. (No live 2D sprite, only a blacked out version of his OB form.)

Mob students panic and almost trample themselves to escape. Us first years brace for impact but suddenly…?! CROWLEY saves us?! YEEEEEEAAH DAD CAME BACK WITH THE MILK LET'S GO 🥛

Crowley commands the staff and dorm leadership to help the students get away. Crewel and Trein use ice magic but it’s instantly melted. (Sam tends to their wounds!) Vargas is knocked back trying to protect students with his body. (Kalim flies him to safety!)

The dorm leaders command their vices to lead their students out. Some notable ones: Jade leads, Floyd is in the back chasing them. Jamil takes charge and tells Kalim to guide people on the magic carpet. Because Ignihyde has no dorm leader, Ortho tells some of their students to be the leaders for the others. Ruggie leads Savanaclaw.

UUHHHHHHH the only person that has not woken up is Lilia. He’s still sleeping at dragon!Malleus’s feet. Silver is freaking tf out OTL calling out to Lilia, trying to wake him, but it doesn’t work.

Sebek is terrified and claims he can’t fight Malleus, he is just too powerful! Chevfowrgwiwj ADEUCE KICK HIM AND SEBEK’s SO inSuLTED HE DECIDeS TO JOIN THE FiGHT AGAIN

Malleus is sending thorns after us to “capture the humans”. ASDHHKAHDLA The tone of voice he takes on is scary, it's like we're farm animals that escaped a pen and he's trying to toss us back in there.

We cut to Ignihyde xjsvsjkw IT’/s A PlOT POiNT THAT iDIA iS OUT OF ShApE, he’s struggling to reach the meetup point to collect the sword, shield, and armor to fight Malleus with. Igni mobs A, B, and C run support and provide him with a magical wheel, which Idia happily accepts.

LOL his mom says he looks cool, just like a prince!! (EW WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT MRS. SHROUD... DON'T MAKE ME THINK IDIA IS COOL.)

The vice dorm leaders (minus Jamil) have led the mobs to main street. There, they collide with Idia.

The dorm leaders (excluding Kalim) are staying behind to stave off Malleus. Us first years ignore evacuation orders and come back.

LILIA FINALLY WAKES UP (not sure why he took longer than everyone else; I thought he wouldn't wake at all and Malleus was keeping him asleep as his "most precious" thing to protect???) 😭 but his magic is so weak he cannot even summon a flame. Begins to cut through the briar instead.

The OB boys are close to irl OB and cannot hold off Malleus for much longer. LMAO. Rowley is crying at the amount of physical damage to the school vjsbfiwhfhskdmd

When all hope is about to be lost, HERE COMES THE MOTORCYCLE REVVING SOUNDS— Holding out for a hero moment fr 💀

OH MY GOD THERE IT IS, I WAS RIGHT WITH MY THEROYT

The armor made of mystium changes form depending on the pilot… Silver assumes the Dawn Knight’s armor and Sebek takes on the same armor his grandfather gifted him in Lilia’s dream.

Malleus scoffs at them and says he will melt Sebek’s shield—but Sebek says there’s no way, because this was something made with the strength if both fae and humans!! Malleus feels betrayed learning that even his grandmother stands against him.

Sebek corrects his liege. They are all standing WITH Malleus. Silver agrees. To prevent Malleus from completely losing himself and becoming the “ruler of evil”, they MUST stop him here and now.

Man. This really is mirroring the Dawn Knight and Maleanor battle. (Believe even the dragon sprite used for Malleus is the same form his mother takes.)

Malleus blows away Sebek’s shield and Silver rushes to protect him. DBHLsiflaiyDSLBI THEY'RE REENACTING THE EVETSN OF THE PAST

LILIA GETS IN THE WAY?!?!!!??!

In the moment of surprise, Idia uses technomancy to control Silver’s sword to hit Malleus’s horns.

Malleus post-OB flashback!

Ahhhh, so it begins with the senators blessing him with mighty powers. Then we see some memories of him growing up.

Malleus has a maid doing his hair but he gets hurt by the teeth of the comb or something?? His anger strikes the maid with lightning and he apologizes, but another servant (or was it a senator, I forgot) tells him don't apologize, it was the maid's fault. Maid is escorted out.

Next is Lilia coming to visit Malleus; Malleus is so happy and laughs really loud. This shatters nearby windows and lodges glass in Lilia's ears. Malleus panics, but Lilia reassures him it's fine.

Last memory is of him on his birthday; Malleus sees fireworks outside but isn't allowed to go out. His grandma is away on royal duties, so he has to eat a big dinner by himself. He's so sad he instantly freezes all the food and makes the servants super cold.

His black and white lament allows him to express that he was born with mighty powers, but what he really wanted all this time was to be able to express himself, to be with other people. "I just wanted to get angry. I wanted to laugh. I wanted to cry." One line I found particularly poignant was this: “At the table where everyone shares their joy and their sadness… There is no seat for me.”

And… he calls his blessing(s) a curse. This is a parallel to Idia, who realized that what he thought was his own curse was actually a blessing that allows him to be “powered up” by blot!!

Screen goes white and Lilia appears before Malleus. UMMMMMM I 'M SCARED, DON'T LIKE THIS FRAMING. IT'S VERY SIMILAR TO IDIA IN BOOK 6 TALKING WITH DEAD!ORTHO AFTER HIS OWN POST-OB FLASHBACK...

"I have to go soon, too."

"Lilia? Where are you going?"

"Don't worry about it. Like you said, 1000 years will pass in the blink of an eye."

Malleus finally wakes up from his OB. Idia stops the Ferrymen from advancing to attacking Malleus with their oars (the same ones they used to neutralize the other OB boys in book 6).

HIS HORN?????? IS IT STAYING LIKE THAT FDOREVER?????? ? ? ???

h U HHHHHHhHhhh

LILIA DIED (like these sick fucking devs played a heart rate monitor FLATLINING) and Silver’s hair going back to blonde is proof his blessing is gone 💦💦

Malleus crying sprite, but at what cost… (Surprisingly is able to cry without summoning a storm??)

Malleus, Silver, and Sebek cry (Idia pulls us away to give them alone time 💦 guess he is socially aware enough to understand this.) Malleus tries to use his magic to revive Lilia.

There’s glowing from Malleus’s broken off horn and Silver’s ring???? Magic comes from a strong wish, so he and Malleus wish for Lilia to return. Malleus states “I love you” to Lilia and that’s what does it.

qbfuvILFIsFIPFw IT'S THE DISNEY POWERE OFR LLOVE SAVES THE DAY TROPE

We skip to a few days later. Mobs are chatting about the extent of Malleus’s magic; Maleficia, Ambrose, and Crowley did a press conference appearance about the catastrophe.

UMMMMM

Ace mentions there is now a Fairy Dream Life Association made up of Malleus fans who sdjlbblsaiadbsi actually preferred the dream worlds to their realities???? (IT GIVES ME KINDA CULT VIBES) We learn that it will take Malleus's horns 100-200 years to grow back and he cannot use his UM or other disaster-level magic during this time.

Dorm leader meeting!!

Idia lets everyone know that S.T.Y.X. created a new classification a few days ago specifically for Malleus. He is now being considered the same as a natural disaster, and they've developed a safety protocol + policy for what to do in the case of Malleus again. Basically, he should be treated LIKE a natural disaster (earthquake, hurricane, tornado, etc.). In other words, don't engage or try to fight, just hunker down and wait it out. This label cannot be erased, appealed, etc.

Okay, WHAT 🤡 I know that we were desperate to stop the spread of Malleus's magic + aiming to limit the damage he does, but apparently there were NO deaths at all, NO damage (beyond NRC, I believe), and only SOME NRC students got injured. That's... all OTL REALLY???? ?? ? ??????? ??NOTHING ELSE??? ? ?? ???? ???? Sounds kinda like bullshit to me, but okay.

Silver and Sebek are currently hospitalized, but they're supposedly recovering well and should return to class soon. (Really???? In only a few days' time??? Magic must really speed up the recovery process.)

Damage to Diasomnia dorm was quickly fixed up with fae magic. Maleficia donated a bunch of rare Briar Valley literature and technology to NRC for free as an apology for the trouble Malleus caused.

aASDIUBADBOIAFFIA WOW apparently Lilia is reenrolling??? He somehow recovered some of his magic. Riddle explains it as being similar to medical cases in which a patient spontaneously recovers for no discernable reason.

IULADFBFIYOAAFAFID Crowley drops the bomb that Malleus is also returning to school, which freaks the other dorm leaders out. Idia reveals it's likely because Crowley wants funding from the International Magical Security Organization (IMSO), which has promised to give money to support whatever area houses Malleus during his rehabilitation period or something. asfihloadbyfasyafsi IMAGINE NOT WANTING MALLEUS SO BAD THE GOVT HAS TO GIVE MONETARY INCENTIVE TO HAVE HIM IN TYOUR VICINITY

Crowley excuses this by saying the teachers agree Malleus should return. After all, as along as you wish to learn, NRC will not turn away a student. He also says that this is important for promoting diversity and enhancing the understanding between humans and fae. adihbabilfaifasi SCROWLEY'S ALSO PLEASED BECASE HE;S BEEN GETITNG A LOT FO GOOD PUBLICITY, NRC IS EEING HAILED AS HEROES.

We cut a few weeks later to Ramshackle, where Yuu and Grim are writing down details about their dream with Mickey. This is the only mention of Mickey in the update; Yuu going home and what Mickey is up to is NOT addressed again. Yuu just says they wonder what he's been up to/they want to see him again.

Sebek and Silver pop in for a visit!! Silver's hair is silver again. Apparently he asked Lilia to bless him a second time. Sebek makes a joke that it would be weird if his name was Silver but his hair was gold; then shouldn't his name be Gold?

Other first years arrive!!

Mmmmm... We get some lore about Sage's Island??? There was a powerful master mage that lived here 2000 years ago. But this mage had an apprentice that had trouble controlling his own magic and brought about a great disaster because of it. Instead of banishing this apprentice, the master mage scolded his student and did his best to teach him everything he could. That is why the schools on Sage's Island try to follow this philosophy of welcoming those that want to learn.

First years speculate that there must have been other incidents in the past where powerful mages got out of hand. They must have been forgiven too, right...? Like the sorcerer's apprentice was.

WAIT A DAMN MINUTE

Silver and Sebek claim it took them 1 week to heal from their injuries. Their magic healthcare must be cracked because that recovery time is INSANE.

Suddenly?????? Invites pop up???? It's from Malleus! He's inviting his peers to a party on May 15th (Silver's birthday), to be held at Castle Wildrose (which has been reclaimed and made into an official neutral zone belonging to no country). A carriage will come and pick them up.

The carriage is pulled by a talking direbeast???? FHABFAIBA HE REFERS TO YOU, GRIM, ACE, AND DEUCE WITH -SAMA!!???!

We arrive at the venue at last, and...

WHOA, UM... MALLEUS NEW FIT??????? 😭 King look?????? Emo lookin' ass/j He looks so much like his mother here, but they don't really explain why he's wearing this??? (Up until this point, I believe he was being studied, tested, and monitored in S.T.Y.X. facilities.)

This looks SO weird, I'm not used to seeing his pale ass chest out...

Malleus asks Silver and Sebek to step forth. OFMMAFOJ;IAFLIUAFIEAF OMG ALH HERVURQ3TVOFEVYFSOIfsihadgouvaegipaf hE'S OFFICIALLLY KNIGHTING THEM??? ?? ? ??? ?

Sebek is henceforth known as the Knight of Lightning. Silver will be the Knight of Dreams.

Silver interrupts and asks if he can donate his armor to NRC and S.T.Y.X., as he feels he couldn't have saved the day without their efforts. This way, they will also have something to use in emergencies. For Silver, he says the title alone is enough.

Malleus agrees and splits up the Dawn Knght armor. He asks Silver what does he want instead?

(Silver's new look, after Malleus strips away the armor.)

They confirm that Silver is now 18 years old. So that means the official ages stated on Twst profiles are the ages they are at the start of the school year??? And they "aged up" as the main story went on?

OH MY GOGSH ADSKHLADBSLISDBAIADBSILBIADS IT'S HAPPENIG YOU GUYS, SIVLER'S ASKING LILIA IF HE CAN POSSIBLY TAKE ON HIS SURNMAE AND FORMALLY BEOCME HIS SON

Lilia says he was wary about it because the name Vanrouge sounds bloody + invokes the color red. It was a name given to him by the queen, he doesn't think it suits Silver. But Silver insists, so he relents. ADFLIYOAFADFYPADFAF MALLEUS OFFICIATING IT TO THE ONLOOKERS

Idbskwnkwwk IS THiS THE OMEDETOU EVA SCENE OTL

Lilia and Malleus hold hands and helps Lilia use Far Cry Cradle?? Which revives the memories of Castle Wildrose... including the fae soliders, the Silver Owls, the guardian fairies... INCLUDING Maleanor and the Dawn Knight who once resided there.

adsbihlffuadyoadfiadf SOH???? ? ??? ? ? ? AND SILVER'S MOM, QUEEN LEAH... She looks so gentle and kind, wah... Pretty lady...

Woooow, those memes about book 7 ending on a dance party twistune/rhythmic aren't just memes anymore OTL Somehow they're able to dance with their dead parents even though I'm SURE this isn't possible, realistically speaking.

Context for Dawn Knight Silver's SSR! Malleus and Lilia playfully change the color of Silver's cape between blue and pink. They look like they're having a lot of fun with it!!

Malleus speaks tenderly to the memory of his mother, even though she cannot respond and is just a phantom of the past. Silver does the same to his parents, thanking them for loving him, protecting him, and "not taking Lilia away." I'm SO glad that we got confirmation that Silver has no ill will toward his blood family, he just doesn't have it in him to hate.

asfhulailafiafd SEBEK CRIES BECAUSE HE LOVES HAPPY ENDINGS OTL MY BOY... YOU CAN SEE HIM CRYING IN DAWN KNIGHT SILVER'S GROOVY TOOAW LH ABHFDOVEFUOVQEFUOUfobaegvaegbiFINPdw jCUTIEPIE

Grim grabs us and says let's dance the night away!!! ... And that's what we end on KJBFIUABUIDABIDSGIPAF tTHE FRAKING DANCE PARTY MEME OTL (No preview for what may come next!)

OKAY, that was a whirlwind of an update 😭 As much as I screamed this entire post, it was mainly from shock and not because I necessarily enjoyed everything presented. I feel like Twst got TOO ambitious and wasn't able to deliver on the follow-through because they set up so much. It definitely feels like there's tons of room to expand because there's still unanswered questions about Yuu going home, Mickey Mouse, Crowley's intentions, Grim's OB (we didn't see him eat a blot stone this update, shockingly), and the upcoming interscholastic magift/spelldrive tournament. What we got this update, considering the length of the book as a whole... It honestly felt TOO short. I know, I know, I've been complaining about the length of book 7--but the problem is that the resolution for all this build-up felt rushed, so it doesn't feel genuinely resolved. I'm sure they'll go more into the fallout and consequences next main story update (again, lots of stuff left to explore), but it's going to hurt knowing this is what we're digesting until then.

Some parts of this update I liked a LOT. Lilia's death, Silver finally taking on the Vanrouge surname, SEBEK SOBBING, and Idia being a badass on a magical wheel!! It was also nice seeing the staff members ADULTING for once (especially Crowley, WOW) and helping out. Same thing as previous update, I loved that each student gets a little time to shine by evacuating students or holding off Malleus.

Other parts... I did not like at ALL. I knew from the start that they weren't going to commit to TRULY killing anyone (otherwise Twst would lose a very marketable character), but it really sucked that Lilia dropped out + died for all of 5 seconds before magically being reenrolled and revived with the Power of Love. Very Disney-esque, but it still sat wrong with me. The party at the end was nice, but it confirmed all the memes about forgiving Malleus with a dance party.

My big issue with this update was how... AFRAID the narrative seemed to be to hold Malleus accountable and to have him make up for what he did. For example, they kept stressing how the damage he did was 'contained', how no one died, how only some NRC students were injured, how the buildings he damaged got patched up easily with magic, etc. What was especially offensive, however, was when they mentioned the history of Sage's Island and how there were other mages who caused disasters like Malleus did; those mages were scolded + forgiven and not exiled, so they should offer the same to him. Okay. But that... that feels like you're trying to say "It's okay that Malleus did this, because OTHER people also did this!" It sounds like you're diverting attention away from Malleus's actions by pointing out that other people did similar things. We're not talking about those other people though. We're talking about MALLEUS DRACONIA, who is responsible for the CURRENT crisis. Don't try to distract us by talking about other people 💦💦

And really, what did Malleus DO to fix things???? I get that he won't be able to use his UM for a long ass time, but what about his relations with the world at large? His grandma is getting on TV to say sorry but why isn't Malleus also doing that??? Why is he throwing a party and ONLY apologizing to NRC when he arguably endangered many more people???? Should he not also be saying sorry to S.T.Y.X., his country, and all other countries????? OTL Like, I don't think he should be thrown in jail or physically harmed as "further" punishment, but I want to know what steps he intends to take to correct what he has done. An apology to everyone is the very least Malleus can do.

I'm also leaving this update confused about how tf Lilia's UM works??? Because previously we knew he could see the memories associated with objects, right??? What object is he calling the memories from, the whole CASTLE???? Is this only possible because Malleus held his hand and boosted his magic or something??? Okay... but then why are both the fae and the humans of the past both there happily (I assume happily because those memories were able to dance with their children without issue)??? Aren't those two separate memories from two different points in time??? Because I cannot imagine a reality in which both parties were in the SAME space, at the SAME time, and NOT at each others' throats. It feels like Twst breaking its own logic and lore just because it would be cute to have this moment between parents and children. And how come we saw Silver's mom Leah but not Malleus's dad Raverne???? Surely Raverne must have bene in Castle Wildrose before, considering that's where his WIFE resides??? And during the rhythmic/twistune I also saw a Silver Owl and a Briar Land soldier dancing together… even though they wouldn’t???? So many questions...

I don't know. I just have so many mixed thoughts on this ending. I always knew in my gut that I would never be completely satisfied with it, because there are limitations with the media involved, expected tropes, an unnecessarily high amount of hype riding on this, etc. Man. What we got in the end was... okay? Okay, but still lacking in certain areas. I just hope a future main story update fills in those gaps.

I guess I don't have anything else to say but... This truly was our Twisted Wonderland 💀

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multimilfs · 5 months ago

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Agnes O'Connor x Fem!Reader: Poking The Bear

Summary: Agnes has the misfortune of being called in to work a murder case on Christmas Eve. When she leaves you frustrated, you decide to do what you do best; poke the bear.

AO3

A/N: I said "is anyone going to humiliate this woman in this ultra-specific way?" and didn't wait for an answer. Merry Christmas, ya filthy animals <3

Words: 8k

Included: Established relationship, Christmas, Porn with plot; g!p, teasing, somnophilia (implied), dacryphilia, phone sex, accidental orgasm, semi-public sex, humiliation, jealousy, blowjobs, dom/sub, sub space, throatfucking, unprotected sex, masturbation, light breeding kink, light degradation, praise, orgasm denial.

Tag List: @vii-v @absolute-memegarbage @crazycatladycaceta @hannah-0730 @shinysuitcloud @bubbly-moonwarrior @emilynissangtr @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @thelesbianapollokid4 @dmtrxie @notice-shy @vintagegoddess12 @rosie6reyes @softfruity @tragicsapphic34 @msharkness @setsuna1415 @kermidd5 @snickerdoodles-stuff @women-are-so-ethereal @imlike-so-gaydude @lotus-ignis @n0body-is-perfect @goblinscum420 @d-z20 @borntodieedition28 @autbot @ee-bah-sims @kathrynscontroversiallyyounggf @renravens @theothersideofthescreen @sp3c-tr0 @sapphicharknesss @coffeelover245 @madamslaytan @heady-pomegranate @ragnarockz @escapetodreamworld @multifandomfix @ghostsunderstoodmysoul @imtrashinflames @goforgreat @welmelsblog @igoturmoney @mol2311 @obnoxiouslycontemplating @bellatrix-black8 @deathly777 @emmasaviorqueen-blog @greatygreatgreat @chlizets @latedawnearlysunsets92

Through the peaceful, warm silence of the morning, an alarm clock blares.

Agnes growls under her breath as she does every morning, lumbering from the comfort of the bed and over to the windowsill where the alarm clock sits. A particularly rough blow shuts it up.

God, why did she let Vidal insist on this shift?

Her routine is simple enough she could do it with her eyes closed; and does, for most of it. It isn’t until she turns the shower to a cooler temperature that she feels anywhere close to awake. She needs coffee—bad.

Halfway through said cup of coffee and one of the donuts you picked up, she realizes she hasn’t kissed you good morning yet.

You grumble a bit when she turns you over, untucking your head from the blankets, but you don’t wake. You look heavenly, painted in the warm glow of the Christmas tree you insist on keeping plugged in all night. Agnes smiles.

Pressing her lips to your forehead, she murmurs, barely a whisper, “Be good, baby.”

A hand wraps around her wrist and she startles. Pulling back, your eyes haven’t opened.

“Agnes, come back to bed.” You say, voice gravely from sleep.

“Vidal will be on my case if I don’t show.”

“I can make your morning better than Vidal can.”

You stretch, curling back into the blankets, but hold her wrist just tight enough to indicate you’re still half awake. It’s good your eyes are closed; she doesn’t need you seeing all the kinds of fond you’re making her.

Agnes really shouldn’t get you started, but curiosity kills cats, not bears, “Oh yeah? How would you do that, baby?”

“You’d come back to bed and sleep until I say.”

“And then what?” She prods, trying not to laugh.

“Then we’ll have a really nice breakfast. Donuts for you.”

“What would you have?”

“You.” You answer, casual and so matter-of-fact, “I’ll even swallow, out of Christmas spirit or something.”

Agnes jolts at the change. Though true to form, she can feel the familiar coil of arousal between her legs. She really shouldn’t have gotten you started.

She’s half awake, she won’t remember this, Agnes tells herself as she tries to move from her kneeling position on the bed. Your grip on her wrist remains.

“Sleep. We’ll have fun when I get home.”

“It’s Christmas Eve.” You whine.

“I’ll be home before you know it, I swear.”

“Fine. ‘Love you.” You murmur.

You rescind your hand and turn over, pacified as you burrow back under the covers. Agnes shakes her head.

“Love you too.” She whispers.

With one last parting kiss to your forehead, she’s gone, with you none-the-wiser.

—

You wake up a mess.

There’s a half-remembered conversation with Agnes lingering in your mind, but it’s hazy enough to feel like a dream; an unsatisfying one, the persistent throbbing between your legs says. You offered to blow her, you remember that much—it’s all pretty blank after that.

No, there was something about having fun when she got home, too.

You can’t wait that long.

It isn’t until two of your fingers are knuckle-deep and you’re missing the fullness Agnes offers that the idea strikes you. You scramble blindly for the phone on your night-stand. The movements change the angle of your fingers and you whine, rolling your hips, even as the blind grabs for your phone grow more frustrated.

Once found, it is ripped viciously off the charger, and you open it, going through your messages for the quickest access to her number. You grin at the contrast between your long-winded messages and Agnes’ one word responses.

An infinitesimal movement of your hips reminds you of your intention.

The phone is brought to your ear and it rings… and rings… and rings…

…and rings…

“O’Connor.” Her gruff voice comes down the line.

Your breath hitches in your throat. You squeeze around your own fingers at the sound.

“Yes, Detective, I’d like to report a crime.”

There’s a brief pause on the other end.

“Go on.”

“Well, my wife woke me up this morning and got me turned on, and she didn’t even have the decency to fuck me before she left. What kind of woman does that, Detective?”

You can hear the curve of her grin, “A lousy one. That’s a pretty serious crime.”

Maybe it’s the low, lilting drawl of her voice down the line. Maybe it’s the way you can see how she’s sitting in your mind; shoulders back against the seat but hips forward, legs splayed with careless confidence, one hand toying with her belt. Maybe it’s the easy humor she slips into with you that she’s never had with anyone else.

Whatever it is, two sentences from her brings you closer to finishing than thirty minutes with your hand has.

You whimper, “Keep talking.”

Another pause. Then the faint rustle of fabric.

“What are you doing?”

Her tone is utterly serious. Unforgiving. And god if it isn’t the sexiest thing you’ve ever heard.

“What do you think I’m doing?”

Finally showing your clit some attention, you moan shamelessly. It’s nice to feel full, but your fingers never quite reach the right spots, and you can’t get off on penetration alone—with Agnes or otherwise. It’s fun to work yourself up though; pushing to the heights you can reach there before really giving yourself the stimulation you want.

If she keeps talking, that—combined with the circling motions on your clit—will send you straight over the edge.

The anticipation builds over the line. For a moment, you pull the phone away to make sure she hasn’t hung up. She’s likely weighing the best thing to say to both turn you on and strike the fear of punishment into you.

Instead, her tone is almost pleading, “Don’t do this now.”

An image strikes you of making Agnes beg, of driving her to a point where the easy dominance falls away, and she’s reduced to chasing whatever kindness you give. It brings you so much pleasure it hurts. You need it. But how to get it?

“Is Agent Vidal in the room with you?” You ask.

The idea of Vidal witnessing what you’re doing to Agnes makes your toes curl.

“No.”

“I thought you were stuck with her today.”

“Leave Vidal out of this.” She demands, but it’s strangled.

She’s clawing for control over the situation, scrambling for a foothold. Normally, you’d give it to her. Normally.

“I don’t think I ask for much…” A lie. You make many requests in the sanctity of your bedroom, “all I wanted was for you to fix what you started.”

“Baby.”

You have to pull your fingers away from your clit, desperate to come but not ready yet.

“There are so many ways you could have done it, too. You could have woken me up with your head between my legs… or with you inside me. It could have been nice, right?”

Only the sound of her breathing comes down the line. Heavy, uneven, like when she’s holding herself over you, hips driving her deeper—

God, you’re so close.

You whisper, needing to know that she’s as affected as you, needing to hear her say it, “Are you hard, Agnes?”

“Yes.”

Even though you haven’t moved any part of your hand, the mental image nearly sends you tumbling over the edge.

“Will you come with me?”

“I…I can’t.”

You know. With the shades open, her office is basically an observation room; meaning if she were to do what you ask, there’s almost a guarantee she’d be caught. A sick part of you wants it. Wants to know that you have enough power over her to make her take the risk.

Gently, you begin to toy with your clit again. You can make her do what you ask. All you need is for her to say it—the confirmation that you’ve undone her so thoroughly that she can’t help but fist her cock under the desk where anyone could see.

“Please.” You beg.

You hear her inhale, the sound sharp in your ear. The words are on the tip of her tongue. Her eyes are no doubt shifting around the office, searching for the perfect way to hide what she’s about to do.

You’re standing on the precipice.

The harsh beeping of a disconnected call blares in your ear. Yanking it away, orgasm thoroughly ruined, you yell in frustration.

—

An officer pulls open the door before you can reach for it, nodding, “Ma’am.”

The precinct is busy for it being a holiday. Uniformed officers sit around desks, either on the phone or talking with others. You spy the Chief talking animatedly to a few toward the back.

They’ve really done up the place this year. Last year it’d been sad, grey. Now there are a few little trees spread around, some personal decorations here and there, a menorah on the front desk with candles waiting to be lit. It livens up the place.

In the back sits the partial vision of Agnes’ office. The blinds are somewhat closed, but she’s left the door open, allowing you enough of a glimpse to know she’s in there. You can imagine her without having to see; her sleeves rolled up to her elbows, hunched over the desk, hand toying with strands of her hair as she frowns over evidence.

Gazes follow as you cut through the center of it all. You do your best to ignore the heat working its way up your neck. Once upon a time, a few of the other officers had tried to catch your attention. You’d entertained a few of them. But they were minnows, and you wanted the shark.

You wanted the unapproachable, stone-faced Detective O’Connor.

And you had been the one to catch Agnes, but her fellow officers couldn’t imagine their illustrious Detective not being the one to do the catching. If only they knew how you could have her eating from the palm of your hand.

A swift knock on the open door and you lean against it. She’s exactly as you imagined. Though there’s a faint sheen of sweat on her forehead and her fingers tap on the desk like she can’t sit still.

She doesn’t look up, barking, “I’m busy.”

“I’ll pass this off to one of the other officers then.”

Her head snaps up and you grin. Hanging from one of your fingers is a white takeout bag. The scent of orange chicken and rice permeates the air, but it isn’t what you’re hungry for.

Work forgotten, she looks you up and down, licking her lips. Her fingers twitch on the desk. You clear your throat and she snaps out of whatever daze she’s in. Clearing her own throat, she sits up, tugging on the bottom of her flannel shirt. Your smile widens.

“Close the door behind you.”

Stepping in, you kick it closed with a low, “Yes, Detective.”

“What are you doing here?”

“My job.” You cross to her desk, dropping the takeout bag on top. You’re perched on the edge closest to her. She looks up at you from her chair, lips pursed, tugging on her shirt again, “What kind of wife would I be if I let you go hungry?”

“None of the other guys get lunch delivered personally.”

“None of the other guys are married to me. Do I get a kiss for my troubles?”

Briefly, she looks out into the precinct—not that she can see much with the shades drawn—then back to your lips. Agnes shifts, licking her own, before nodding.

You lean forward and hold onto the chair by one arm, capturing her lips in a rough kiss. Your other hand palms the length you know pulsates between her legs. Upon contact she grunts into your mouth, hips bucking.

Her hand fumbles blindly for your wrist. Catching it in a firm grip, you can feel the tension in her frame as she decides whether to press you closer or shove you away.

Pulling back just enough to smile, “Poor baby. Have you been like this all day?”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what, Detective?” You murmur.

Her breath hitches. Blue eyes so blown out they’re nearly black regard you, her chest rising and falling as she struggles for an even rhythm of breath. You test her grip and find its slackened. The palm of your hand caresses the entire outline of her through her jeans.

Agnes doesn’t push you away, but she doesn’t pull you closer, either. The hand on your wrist allows you enough movement to stroke slowly from base to tip. Every inch of her seems to jump at the whisper of your touch.

Looking into her eyes, you can see how she’s fighting for control. She just can’t find the path to it. Good. You want her like this—panting and desperate. It makes you clench around nothing.

“What have you been imagining all this time?”

She swallows. Clears her throat, “Vidal will be back soon.”

“I can be quick.”

“Anyone… could see.”

“We have a few options. Your favorite is off the table, though.”

The favorite in question being Agnes bending you over the desk and fucking you hard and fast. It’s efficient, allowing her drive in deep while having the benefit of spanking you as she chases her reward. Her cock twitches at the reminder.

She’s tense, taut with energy like she’s only a few strokes from finishing right here. The thought is hot and you want it, bad—but not all dreams can be reality.

“What do we have?” Agnes asks, finally.

“If I crawl under the desk no one would see what I’m doing.” You offer.

Your hand keeps moving. It’s more for yourself than anything; you like feeling her, hard and wanting, yet so restricted, jumping at the slightest bit of attention. A thumb swipes over where you know the head is and she chokes, hips stuttering from what had been a slow roll into your hand.

“Do it.” She demands.

The subtle authority returning to her voice sends a shiver down your spine. One more swipe of your thumb and she keens, before clamping her mouth shut.

You laugh. Waking up this morning, this is the last thing you expected for yourself from the day; but you can’t deny you’re enjoying every second.

“That’s my girl.” You praise.

Bracing to slide off the desk, there’s a knock on Agnes’ closed office door, and disaster strikes.

The knock startles you. You try to turn and look toward the door, but forget just how precarious your seating situation is on the edge of the desk. You lose your balance. You’re able to get your foot under you just enough to fall into Agnes’ lap, rather than onto the cold tile of the office.

Agnes lets out a cross between a harsh breath and a moan as you fall into her. Your back presses firmly to her front.

“Don’t—god, I’m gonna—”

Strong hands settle on your hips to shove you off, but it’s too late. Agnes grunts. Nails dig into your sides as she ruts helplessly against your backside, unloading spurts of cum with every press of her hips.

You freeze in shock.

Then out of habit your hands find hers. With one, you lace your fingers together. With the other you caress her wrist, brushing gently as you turn your head to meet her eyes, careful to keep every inch of your body where she needs you. Her hips tense, stuttering, whimpering as she fights the orgasm that’s ravaging her.

“It’s okay. Let it happen.” You encourage, brushing a finger against her inner wrist. A war is waging over her face as she’s caught between desire and shame. Desire must win out. Agnes movements pick up speed as she furiously grinds up against you, and you can’t help the praise that falls from your lips, “That’s it.”

Now that she’s given in, she can’t stop, the hands on your hips clenching as she presses closer, harder with every thrust, powerless to the desire she can’t stop shooting. A wounded noise leaves her throat. You empathize; you know well how getting what you want can quickly move into pained-pleasure, when your body just keeps giving and giving.

Agnes’ expression is pained, laced with helplessness to her pleasure. Her eyes don’t leave your own as she rides out the waves. You try to sit still, letting her take what she needs. She allows you to watch every twitch of her expression, hear every noise she lets slip—it’s an act of trust that overwhelms. Lifting a hand to her cheek, you wipe at the perspiration there.

Eventually, she relaxes into the seat, her hips stopping in their frantic search for friction. Her eyes slip closed and you watch her breathe.

You’re eternally grateful that whoever knocked didn’t barge in right after; there is no way you’d have been able to talk your way around what was happening. It’s a mercy that Agnes rarely shuts her office door—now that she has, everyone understands something important is going on.

Running a finger along her cheekbone, you whisper, “Are you okay?”

“What do you think?” She growls.

“Given the mess you just made, I’d say you’re on cloud nine.” You tease.

With a sudden show of strength, you’re shoved into a standing position. You turn to take in the weight of Agnes’ glare.

Agnes snarls, “Fuck you.”

“You could have… if you had a little self control.”

Your eyes fall to her lap for emphasis, the evidence of her desire stark against the front of her jeans. Her hands clench on the arm-rests. Blood has rushed to her face, painting her features in red hues that betray her forced calm.

The sight of her so humiliated is doing it for you; and you can see that she sees, regarding you with a loaded, wary look. It will take no shortage of negotiation, but you will be revisiting this again.

You open the take out bag and pluck out the napkins near the bottom. Carefully, you wipe them over the planes of her face, soaking up the sweat that had been clinging to her skin. Agnes doesn’t meet your eye.

“Agnes.” Waiting until she locks eyes with you, “It’s okay.”

She scoffs, “I came in my pants like a fucking teenager.”

“And it was hot.”

“You’re really something else, you know that?”

“Oh, I’m well aware. I also know that you love me for it.”

Agnes rolls her eyes.

“Unfortunately.”

“Careful, O’Connor, I can still give this lunch away to one of your coworkers.”

The bag is promptly snatched from your reach. You laugh.

Now that she’s standing, you breathe a sigh of relief; her flannel is long, perfectly hiding the evidence of your activities from the world. You just hope no one outside was looking in too closely.

Desire rears its head at the thought. You need to get out of here before you do something that’ll get you both caught.

You lean up and steal a kiss, “Enjoy your lunch, baby.”

When you open the door to leave, you come face-to-face with Agent Rio Vidal holding two cups of coffee in her hands. You startle and she raises her brows at seeing you.

“Agent Vidal.”

“I wasn’t expecting to see you here, sweetheart, or I would’ve bought an extra coffee.”

“That’s okay, I was just bringing Agnes something to eat.”

“Take mine.” The coffee cup is held between the two of you. You can see the faint mark of her lipstick on the lid as she leans in, “I don’t need the extra caffeine anyway.”

“Keep it, Vidal. She can have mine.”

You turn so you can take in both of them. Vidal is relaxed, posture brimming with a quiet confidence while Agnes is tense, staring at the two of you like she could throw something—and she would, if she didn’t think it’d encourage the former somehow.

Agnes has always been… odd around Vidal; moreso than the normal awkwardness between two exes. And Vidal has never been subtle with her interest in poking Agnes’ nerves.

Whatever it is, you’re going to use it and see where it takes you.

You accept the offered cup of coffee, making deliberate eye contact with Agnes as you take a long sip. A latte—thank god, Agnes’ black drip would’ve made you gag.

“Thanks for the coffee.” You murmur low. Then you throw your wife a smile, ignoring the promise of pain in her eyes, “See you at home, Agnes.”

—

Coming home you’re delighted to find a few last-minute packages on the porch. Carrying them in, one shifts heavily in your arms, and you know immediately what it is; one of the speakers in Agnes’ car crapped out on her a few months back, so the passenger-side only spits out static where there should be music—or the sports broadcasts, in your wife’s case; you bought her a new stereo system so she wouldn’t have to ‘make do’ anymore.

There’s also a few new shirts, a nice leather belt, and a watch she’d been eyeing but wasn’t willing to buy for herself. You wrap all of them with a smile on your face and slide them under the tree.

The busy work of it all eases the tension in your shoulders and some of the arousal between your legs. There’s a lingering peace in every corner of your home. It’s quiet, barring the music playing from the kitchen, casting a nostalgic glow over you where the lights seem just a little warmer.

You sit down on the couch and take it all in. Ornaments wobble on branches, glittering and winking at you as they twist. There’s a garland draped over the fireplace with dancing lights; you feel warmer inside when you remember how Agnes helped you set it up, shaking her head at your excitement.

With the bustle of the season, you’ve forgotten to take time like this to stop and let it sink in. So many spend Christmas alone, hungry, without a place to go. You don’t have to. You have a wife who will spend every second with you in the warmth of your home. Tears prick your eyes.

You fall asleep on the couch with that warm feeling in your chest.

—

The scent of garlic and butter tickles your nose. You snap awake.

Did you leave the stove on?

You shoot up from the couch and throw off the blanket you don’t remember grabbing. It falls to your feet, twisting in your ankles, and you do all you can not to fall face-first onto the floor. How long have you been asleep?

Wait. Did you even put anything on to cook?

Agnes’ flannel-clad back greets you when you round the corner. A sigh leaves you. One hand settles over your chest, willing your heartbeat to slow to a normal pattern. It all comes back to you; wrapping gifts, sitting down to enjoy the quiet, intending to get up and start dinner afterward.

You step into the kitchen and wrap your arms around her waist from behind, forehead resting between her shoulder blades. A hand lifts your own so she can press a kiss on the back.

“How was work?” You ask, voice muffled by her shirt.

“A waste of time.” She answers. Her form shifts, one shoulder tensing as she stirs what sits on the stove, “It could’ve waited until after Christmas.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault. Vidal’s a workaholic and fails to realize the rest of us aren’t.”

“You are most of the year.”

Agnes grunts noncommittally, “What trouble did you get into?”

“Wrapped a few gifts, took a nap. I’m surprised some of your guys weren’t beating down my door with how rowdy I was being.”

“Chief would’ve just sent me to handle you.”

“I’d like that… you, handling me…” You murmur, hand moving down her front with intent.

A strong, veined hand grabs your own. She forces it back to its former resting place. You keep your hand where it is directed. The haven you’ve found nuzzled against her back—surrounded by the scent of her cologne and the heat of her—is just as inviting as anything more salacious could be.

Something bubbles and pops on the stove. Agnes jolts, before relaxing. You drag yourself from your haven to look over her shoulder; a pan of sauce is stirred on one burner, boiling pasta churning away on another. Simple, but hearty.

You press a kiss to the skin you can reach, just behind her ear, “You’re getting better.”

Before, her dinner of choice would’ve been a canister of peanuts, maybe a microwave dinner.

“Don’t say anything until you’ve tasted it.”

“I’ll do what I want.” You answer.

“Don’t I know it.”

Jabbing her side with a finger until she cracks a grin, “Let me taste, so I can tell you how amazing it is.”

The wooden spoon is lifted from the sauce and over her shoulder to your mouth. You wrap your lips around it, immediately lulled further into bliss by the combination of onion, garlic, and tomato.

“Agnes, that is delicious.”

Her brows raise. With a flourish, she allows herself a taste.

“You love to stroke my ego.” She says in that self-deprecating tone you know well.

Your hand and mouth move before you think, “That’s not the only part of you I like to stroke.”

Whether by a lapse in understanding or simply because she lets you, your hand finds its mark before Agnes can stop it. The full width of your hand presses at the apex of her thighs. Your mouth drops open.

Agnes is painfully erect for the second time today with little work on your part.

She drops the spoon against the pan and removes your hand again, blunt nails biting into your skin in the way you like. You don’t react, still reeling from the information you’ve gleaned. Agnes libido isn’t what it once was—a reality of age—even if she’s like a well kept oldsmobile; capable of going the distance and then some once you get her properly started. But you’ve done very little in the way of actually getting her started since visiting the office.

“What on earth have you been up to today?” You ask, breathless.

“Don’t start.”

“I’d say you’re well past the starting point, given what I just felt.” A laugh escapes, then you pause, “You didn’t…”

Agnes curious gaze meets yours over her shoulder. Understanding dawns, along with indignation, “Of course not.”

“Needing a little extra help is normal.”

“This is all your doing.” She snaps, “Go sit down.”

“If it’s all my doing, you should let me fix it.” You coo.

In a sudden burst of movement, Agnes is out of your arms, sauce and pasta left behind on the stove. You blink. Did something happen at work? Have you hit a nerve?

She crosses the space to the kitchen table. The chair at the head of the table, facing the stove, is yanked from its resting place. You wince as it shrieks against the floor. But she either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, turning the chair and meeting your eyes with a hard look, pointing.

“Sit.”

You move without thinking. There’s a subtle note of steel beneath the command that sends you into submission on instinct, like a pet might jump to obey their owner. The thought doesn’t chafe today; you want to be good, you want to obey.

Plopping down into the seat, hands settle on your shoulders. Agnes growls in your ear, “Stay.”

And you do.

As she finishes dinner, moving the pasta into the sauce with an unsure—but successful—flourish. As she nearly burns herself cutting the garlic bread fresh out of the oven. As she casts quick, dark glances your way every few minutes, as if having to make sure you’re where she left you.

You are the picture of poise and obedience, fighting every desperate urge for nearness to follow her command. But the longer she takes the harder it becomes. Hands settled on your thighs, your fingers scratch anxiously at the fabric of your pants, helpless and without any other way to expel this building energy.

“Agnes.” You whine.

“Quiet.”

It takes ages before she approaches you. She takes her sweet time putting dinner on plates, making it pretty in a way you know is just to drive you crazy; she doesn’t give two fucks about whether or not something looks nice as long as it tastes good.

Dinner is brought over to the table, but you tilt your head. Agnes only brought one plate.

“Up.” She commands, “You’re in my seat.”

You stand. Reaching for the chair next to hers, a hand on the back stops you from pulling it out. There’s the deep sound of porcelain meeting the wood of the table. As she leans around you, the scent of her cologne makes you dizzy.

Agnes snaps her fingers. You jolt, snapping back into your own mind. She points to the floor and your brows furrow. Then, it clicks, and your face grows warm.

You sink to your knees in front of Agnes’ chair as she sits in it.

“I can guess what a perp is going to do just by the way they sit in interrogation.” Agnes drawls, idly tapping her knee as her mind works, “But you… I can never guess how you’re going to act. Look at you now, all good and obedient for me, when you were acting like a whore in my office today.”

So caught up in the dizzying feeling of submission, you’ve been oblivious to the weight of your own desire. Agnes’ words change that in an instant. There’s a needy, pulsing beat between your legs, and you clench your thighs together in an attempt to help yourself. It doesn’t work.

“You started it.” You say, breathless.

You can’t breathe around your desire for her. Oxygen is a secondary need to the feel of her, whether she’s buried deep inside or grazing her fingers over your flesh; you want her and it hurts. But you keep your hands on the tops of your thighs.

Agnes chuckles. It’s a low, rolling thing. Agnes’ usual response to amusement is to grin, maybe even shake her head and scoff—laughter is a rare thing, aged and cultivated until it’s amber laced with smoke over your senses. You feel the heat of it. The intoxication it brings is warm, a weight settling comfortingly over the shoulders.

“I’m collecting on your offer from earlier.”

And with that, her thighs part, and you surge forward without being told. Her belt is unbuckled in one fell swoop. You moan, unable to help yourself, needy for the feel of her skin, to taste.

A testament to the overwhelm of your desire that the concept of toying with her again does not cross your mind. Your hand finds the desperate length of her cock, exposing it to the cool air.

It stands proud, tip flushed and leaking, veins stark against the fair skin. You pant. With single-focus, you lean forward.

An equally fair hand grips your jaw, forcing your eyes to Agnes’, “How many taps?”

You blink. You’re buried beneath desire, mind clawing its way to the surface.

“T-Three.”

Agnes nods and you’re free.

The first thing you do with your newfound freedom is flatten your tongue and lick a broad stripe up the length of her. The hand on your jaw goes slack in surprise, Agnes’ hips jumping. A groan echoes through the room.

You circle your tongue over the tip, drinking in her taste and the sounds falling from her lips. It’s heady, making the room fuzzy around the edges.

Submission brings with it a strange feeling of power. You’re doing as she bids, being good, but every sound and reaction coming from her is real; the truest manifestation of how well you’re doing to please her.

The world falls away. Your head feels floaty, strangely empty despite the manuevers you’re employing with your mouth. You don’t need words, you don’t need thoughts, you just need to offer Agnes whatever she wants.

Which you do by taking her cock in your mouth until she hits the back of your throat.

A thud sounds from her hand slamming on the tabletop, scrambling for something to grip as she chokes out, “Fuck!”

You do all you can to repress your gag reflex, forcing yourself to just relax everytime she hits the back of your throat. Agnes has her head thrown back, eyes closed, chest rising and falling as she pants, whimpering with every movement of your tongue and mouth.

Through it all, her hand remains on the side of your face, a careful guide. You can’t help the hand that sneaks under your skirt; Agnes is shaking with tension, begging to let go and chase her pleasure at your expense, but she’s holding herself back and guiding you through taking her in the way that would do the least harm.

You moan. Agnes’ cock twitches in your mouth and she matches your moan, a semblance of that control slipping with a particularly rough thrust. You gag, tears forming in your eyes.

The hand between your thighs shakes, fumbling for your clit while focusing on what really matters. You’re so wet there’s barely any friction.

You want Agnes to make you gag again. You want her to push into you and take what she wants until you’re crying.

Looking up, you try to will all of that thought and intent into your eyes, but Agnes’ are closed.

You whine.

Blue eyes regard you from beneath drooping lids. You will one thought into your mind and one thought only; use me.

Agnes swallows. The pad of a thumb runs under your eye, collecting some of the wetness there as if to say are you sure? In answer, you take as much of her as you can physically manage, eyes meeting her own the whole time.

Her restraint snaps.

Agnes’ hand travels to the back of your head, her hips moving faster and firmer than you can comprehend. She takes over completely; driving into you for what she needs, making you gag obscenely, without a thought in the world for if it is too much.

Not having to make choices allows you to focus on obtaining your own pleasure. With every tear she forces from your eyes, you swipe over the pulsating bud of your clit. You can feel your own orgasm building low in your gut.

“I’m going to cum.” Agnes groans.

Delight shoots through you. She’s going to cum and it’s because of you; because you were good and gave her everything she needs. It feels amazing.

Why, then, do you pull off and out of reach?

Agnes growls. You blink.

Words. There are words to go with the desire you feel. You close your eyes, searching for them, mentally scrambling at the edges until you can wrap your hands around them and their meaning.

“Can I…” You start, voice rough from the beating your throat has taken, “Can I ride you?”

Agnes makes quite the scene; splayed open on the dining room chair, hair a mess and eyes blown out, cock twitching and needy through the fly of the jeans she ruined only a few hours ago. You clench.

Agnes licks her lips, “Yeah, alright.”

You stand on shaking legs and Agnes holds up a hand, stopping you as she lifts her hips and fumbles in her back pocket. She obtains her wallet and rifles through until she locates a small foil wrapper.

It’s safer, you know. You’ve used one almost every other time for the duration of your marriage.

“Agnes.”

The woman in question pauses before opening the condom. Her brow pops up in an unspoken question.

The words are instinct, comprehensive thought still far away, “I want you to cum inside me.”

Outside, the world rages on. Westview residents race down the street, returning home from last minute errands, gifts in tow that they’ll have to sneak inside. The wind is kicking up and through the trees as snow grows closer with every second.

And then there is you and Agnes, tucked in the warmth of your home, caught in the weight of your words. Stopped in the face of the potential consequences.

Agnes throws the unopened condom on the kitchen table.

“Then come here.”

You stand with your legs on either side of her own, steadying yourself on her shoulders. One steady hand settles on your hip. The other pushes your panties aside and aligns her to your entrance as you lower into her lap.

You could take her in one motion with how wet you are. Yet, Agnes keeps your descent slow, careful. She watches your face with every inch you take—same as you watch hers.

Agnes’ chest is heaving, eyes dark and stormy, face pinched in concentration. She’s the most handsome person you’ve ever seen. You clench around her and her hands tighten on your waist.

“Sorry.” You murmur, out of habit.

Agnes raises a brow, but doesn’t respond, helping you down the last few inches. When you settle fully in her lap you let out the breath you’d been holding.

One hand sneaks under your skirt to trace shapes on the bare flesh of your hip.

“You pulled an interesting stunt with Vidal today.” Agnes says. The hand on your hip tightens, “I’m not so sure I should reward your behavior.”

“Then why let me…”

“Why deny myself just because you’re acting like a brat?”

There’s a small testing thrust of her hips. You clench. She groans, head falling back against the chair. You whimper. Trying to move your own hips, eager for what you’ve been denied, you find yourself held in place.

That’s not fair. All day she’s been teasing you, driving you to the edge of what you want—what you need, just to deny you.

“You started it.” You whine, trying to move your hips again, still finding yourself held stationary as she leisurely thrusts up, “You woke me up and got me all bothered, it’s not fair.”

“Life isn’t fair, baby.”

“Please.” You whine, “It’s not my fault, please.”

Muscles in her arms tremble as she lifts you slightly before sinking you back down onto her. The fullness makes your toes curl but it isn’t enough.

“Calling me at work and getting me worked up wasn’t your fault?”

“…No.”

Agnes laughs, “If you’re going to lie, you could at least be convincing.”

You won’t win this fight by playing fair, not when Agnes is clearly uninterested in fairness.

“You… You feel so good. Can’t think properly.” You breathe, moaning a bit more than comes naturally, “I’m so full of you.”

The thrust of her is uneven. She stops moving you completely and you fight down a grin.

You press a hand between your bodies, applying pressure to your lower stomach as she continues to thrust, subtly picking up speed. Her pants are growing louder, a wheeze leaving her mouth when you press.

“That’s you.” You murmur, leaning forward and ghosting over her lips, tracing the bridge of her nose with the tip of your own. You press harder and enjoy the way she groans, “Nobody has ever been as deep inside me as you.”

“Fuck.” She snarls.

You’re pushed up again, suddenly empty, and whine, blinking at the change. But then her strong hands are on your hips and spinning you around.

Your front is pressed against the table, bent so your cheek rests on the top of it. The texture of her jeans is rough against the back of your thighs as she lines herself and fills you in one thrust.

“Oh, fuck!” You cry.

Agnes sets a brutal pace, chasing that which only you can offer. Every thrust has her cock brushing that perfect spot inside you and you lose control of whatever sounds you’re making.

“Is this what you wanted?” Agnes snarls in your ear, “For me to leave work and fuck you like some bitch in heat?”

“Yes!”

“You haven’t earned it.”

“No, Agnes, please!”

“Hold it.” She orders.

With every move she makes, you do all you can to ignore the pleasure, to pretend it doesn’t exist. It’s somewhat possible when it’s only her cock. But then she leans down and starts toying with your clit and you cry out, fighting not to roll your hips against them.

You want what you’ve been chasing all day, but you still want to be good. You’re her good girl, aren’t you? You have to keep being good even if it hurts.

So, you hold your orgasm at bay, while Agnes chases her own. Judging by the uneven rhythm of her hips it won’t take long.

“Please let me come, Agnes. Please.” You beg.

“Why should I?”

“I’ll give you anything—anything! Please, my love!”

“Anything, huh?”

The tone of her voice is low, dangerous. Layered with a rasp that nearly undoes you.

If she doesn’t let up, it doesn’t matter how good you are; you’re going to cum.

“Anything!”

Agnes phone is slammed down on the table right beside your head. It isn’t on, but you have the sinking feeling that you’ve just landed yourself into something far worse than expected.

Her thrusts stop, but she keeps a light, teasing pressure that grazes your clit just enough to keep you engaged without getting you off.

It is torture. And the silence building as you stare down the upturned cell phone is only making it worse.

“I’m going to make a call and turn on the speaker. Then, I’m going to fuck you. And you’re going to let whoever is on the phone hear you as I make you cum.”

The weight of it is like a lead weight of nerves in your stomach, “But—“

“If you want to act like a whore you’re going to be treated like one.” She snarls, then her tone grows softer, “Yes or no, angel?”

Whoever she calls and puts on the line, you’ll never be able to look in the eye again. But you’re so full and eager that you don’t truly care at this point.

Besides, it’s Christmas Eve, maybe everyone will be too busy to pick up.

“Yes.”

A harsh thrust that forces the air from your lungs, then her lips are next to your ear, breath hot, “That’s my girl.”

The echo of your own words from earlier make your toes curl. Her phone is snatched from the table and she continues to toy with your clit as she makes the call.

It rings… and rings… and rings…

Faintly, you hear the line connect, and you gasp.

You can’t make out who the voice belongs to, but you hear a faint, “Yeah?”

Agnes barks down the line, “Don’t say a word.”

The bang! as her phone hits the table again makes you jump, a small shriek leaving your lips. It wobbles. Faintly, you’re impressed she hasn’t broken the thing with how she abuses it.

A long finger slams down on the speaker button and as the phone tilts slightly, you read the name on the screen, and your eyes widen.

Vidal.

Before you can say a word, though, Agnes is back to work. Something in the action of being heard has made her more aggressive. You swear you can feel the bruises forming on your hips where she grabs, leveraging you for every single thrust.

You try to choke down your moans and whimpers, not wanting Agent Vidal to hear you like this, but Agnes won’t stand for it; one hand grabs your jaw and pries your mouth open.

She pushes in to the hilt and you let out a shrieking moan.

“You were so talkative before. Have you lost your nerve?”

“I—please—“

“Calling me this morning and getting me worked up, teasing me in the office, in the kitchen… and incapable of handling your punishment.”

“I’m sorry, Agnes. Please.”

“Please, what?”

“Use me. I want—I need you to fuck me until I can’t remember being without you—I need you to fuck me until you cum inside and make me yours forever—please!”

The knowledge that every word from your mouth is being heard by someone else is not forgotten, but you’ve been pushed beyond caring. Agnes is intent on making you beg for what you want and you want it bad.

Agnes’ fingers and cock alternate stimulating you. If her fingers are working, her hips aren’t—and vice versa. You’re frankly astonished she’s been able to last so long because you’re teetering on the edge of pleasure at the barest contact.

But her will has always been steel. And she wants to see you humiliated.

The hand on your clit slides to your lower stomach and presses, mimicking your own actions only minutes before, “When I knock you up, you’re going to feel it right here.”

Something inside you snaps. You wail.

Agnes’ hips are moving at a clip, every inch of her rubbing where you need, setting you alight from within. Her hand doesn’t move. The faster she goes, the deeper she drives, her hips begin to lose their rhythm.

Any words devolve into animalistic grunts as she ruts into you, mouth alternating between kissing and biting at your neck from behind.

You’re so fucking close. If she denies you now, you think you might die.

“Let me cum, Agnes, please—pretty please—I’ll be your good girl, please, I’ll be so good. Let me cum and fill me up, it’s all I want—“

Through gritted teeth, “Go on then.”

Something inside you snaps.

The command is exactly what you need. Your entire body clenches so tight you fear you may never relax again. You lose track of what noises leave your mouth, you think you may even lose consciousness for a few moments.

All you know when you come to is that your throat is raw and Agnes is driving into you, choking out in your ear, “Gonna cum—“

Her hips meet your own at full force and don’t pull back, remaining, pulsing forward as if she can’t get close enough. Every spasm of her cock paints your insides with her desire, marking you as hers. Agnes holds your hips as she presses in with every twitch, struggling to breathe.

Weakly, you reach a hand back to tangle in her hair. Your throat aches, “That’s it, baby. Fill me.”

A groan. Another rough twitch.

It reaches a point where the pressure ebbs. She remains, but she’s not twitching anymore, nor is she fighting to become one with you. There’s only the sound of your breathing in the room.

Agnes moves to straighten and pull out, but you whine, reaching back to grab whatever part of her you can reach.

“Stay.” You whisper.

She pauses.

A hand gently caresses along your spine, “You can’t stay like this, angel.”

“Just let me feel you a little longer.”

There’s a comfort in the fullness; in the knowledge that Agnes is the only woman who can provide this for you. That she even wants to.

It’s all a blur beyond that.

Eventually, you can’t stand being bent over on the table anymore, even if you never want to be without the feeling of Agnes inside you. The call with Vidal is disconnected at some point. You and your wife move slowly, hand in hand, up to your bedroom.

You gently shove her onto the bed while grabbing damp washcloths. Neither of you can stand a shower at this point.

The two of you take your time, being careful to mind the sore spots. You lean slightly into Agnes as you wipe some of the sweat from her flesh.

“You’re so good to me.” You murmur, kissing the underside of her jaw, “Thank you, my love.”

“Consider it an early Christmas gift, angel.”

You tamp down on the urge to say something sappy for her to scoff at. Instead, you guide her down and kiss her, soft and slow.

#agatha harkness x reader #agnes o'connor x reader #agatha harkness #agnes o'connor #agnes of westview #agatha all along #agatha all along x reader #agatha harkness fanfiction #agatha harkness imagine #agnes wandavision #wlw #wlw imagine #dec2024 #multimilfswritings

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dmc-tings · 2 months ago

Note

It’s been a while since I requested anything off tumblr! (Hope I’m doing it right) would you kindly write dating headcanons for Vergil? ❤️❤️

(Looks right to me lmao. Also I felt like this needed a sort of into to the dating, so enjoy)

Dating Headcannons for Vergil

First of all... what did you do to get the Alpha and Omega to notice you?

He doesn't just pick anyone.

Really we think Nero's mom got lucky

It was actually through Lady you and the Blue Devil met

She brought you too the shop

HEART THROB

He just saw you from across the room

Hehe, of course Dante saw the small signs if his big brother's interest

The straighter back, smoothed out shoulders, and you can't forget the lack of him showing off his arms (that vest? Fuckin please. Dude's got arms for days.)

But you clearly weren't impressed.

It took Trish to tell him it wasn't it.

Dante was happy to laugh at his suffering

Vergil promptly stopped peacocking

But... he still didn't know how to approach you

You're... quiet. Observant.

Like himself.

For a while it was just... longful looks from him.

But then (without reason) Dante suggested that you ask Vergil about Demon stuff.

Ah. His magnum opus... of himself anyways

That's when you went over to him finally

"Lemme talk to ya."

Oha? Not so shy then. More cautious

That led to a rabbit hole (No pun) that you fell down

Eventually Vergil let you accompany him to his favorite library... the only one in Redgrave (one could assume he simply just opened a portal to where he wanted)

And you? You took him to little quaint cafe's, or parks that didn't have too many people

Nook and cranny or hole in the wall places that didn't have people staring at him

He adored it

Mostly because he wasn't bothered

But your company, more over the private time with you, allowed him to see you

And he's a hopeless romantic.

So the day he asked you to be his (and only his) you gave him a sweet kiss... on the cheek

Gave ya mans the "butterflies" and he went home red eared

(Here are the relationship stuff)

Vergil... is horribly like a demon. He spent so many years in Hell or under Mundus' brainwashing, he's more devil than human

He... like a giant cat, he leaves dead devils heads or limbs at your doorstep.

You had to SCOLD him for it

He was, unreasonably, pissed. That wasn't good enough?

His "rizzlord" of a brother tried to help

It did not go well

Between the awkward "ayo girl's" or the tragic "Call me Mr Flintstone, cause I can make yo bed rock" (which Vergil didn't even know what the fuck that meant)

You told him "Verge. Stop listening to your brother. Anyone else would have called the police on you."

Dante got a proper beating that day

So Vergil eventually said fuck it and started to read those cheesy romance books

Things turned around then

Flowers. Chocolates. Your favorite foods.

A more normal human relationship

He is chivalrous

Fast to open doors for you, or pull out your chair

And a fast fist to anyone who makes you uncomfortable

He just can tell ok?

A little bit too close to him? Or an avoidant stare?

He's all action. No verbal warning.

YOU noticed the signs of him ready to swing

It's lighting fast. His eye twitches, and a head swivel. When he finds the target you have maybe second to grab him.

You usually are too slow though.

A sickening crack and someone is sleep

And it ain't neither of you

Vergil also likes to cook

Yes. Human food.

Superb sense of taste, he can almost tell you exactly what's in a dish

So asking him for something specific is easy. (I like to think he's kinda like Ignis from FFXV)

Sorry. But intimacy is a challenge to him

He's really like a cat

He'll come to you when he's ready

It's usually slow, heavy and careful steps

Visually cautious

"May I sit with you?"

Of course you don't deny- why did he sit so far away

He's like on the far end of the couch

Give him an hour

He slowly scoots closer

But... there about a 4 inches away from you

He does this so you can choose to close the distance

You usually do.

Hehe red ears.

He doesn't let his face heat up, but his ears. Hims ears always burn up

And then the small cocky grin he gives himself. Satisfaction

With that you basically tell him it's ok to grab you up

In his lap

Mf will fall asleep with you like this

Ah.

No one thought he'd have a safe haven in you

#vergil is trying #vergil dmc #dmc vergil #vergil x y/n #vergil x reader #vergil devil may cry #vergil sparda

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pseudowho · 1 year ago

Text

Fumus et Ignis

Sometimes, Hiromi smokes after a hard day. Sometimes, he makes love to you until you're both crying out for each other.

And sometimes, he does both at once.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Hiromi being a desperate mess, and smoking is bad for you. *Gavel tap* Naughty.

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Your thighs burn with effort as Hiromi's frown only deepens, one hand rucking your hips so your pussy presses down on his clothed cock, the other hand slowly raising a glowing cigarette to his lips.

He hisses, releasing a plume of smoke, charcoal eyes glinting like a hungry dragon as his jaw slackens, bucking his hips up into you. You whimper and shudder, feeling a gush of arousal seep from your aching pussy onto his black trousers; Hiromi's cock twitches within its confines, and his smoke-roughened voice breathes an open-mouthed growl of appreciation.

"You can do better than that, my love-- it's been such a long day..."

You feel the sharp sting of his hand slapping against your bare arse as your pace increases, rubbing your clit against the silk-on-iron sensation of his suit trousers over his throbbing cock. Hiromi sits up, hooded eyes heavy with lust staring deeply into yours, pulling his tie off with one hand and gripping your wrists behind your back with another. His cigarette, with its heady bitter scent and coil of rising smoke, is gripped between his teeth to the edge of his lips.

"Maybe if you're going to ride me, you need some reins," he rasps, sandy voice hushed against your ear, as he threads his black tie around your bound wrists.

Restricted, and so close to the edge of your orgasm, Hiromi groans through cigarette-gripped gritted teeth as he lifts your t-shirt over your head. It gets trapped at your bound hands, and he twists it round your bounds, using it to pin you down as he drops his cigarette into the ashtray beside him, taking your exposed breasts roughly into his mouth and hands, licking and rolling your now wet, puffy nipples.

Hiromi whispers his smoky breath against your breasts as he nuzzles, licks and sucks on you; "So filthy how wet you are, and I'm not even inside you...I've got to fill you up more than once tonight-- I need to-- I--"

The stinging pleasure of Hiromi sucking on your breasts like a man starved, connects like a thin thread to your clit as you roll your stuttering hips on Hiromi's cock, his groin now so wet with your combined arousal and pre-cum that you soak through to each other. Hot and shaking, you cum with a weak cry, Hiromi's bounds tight as he forces your fluttering pussy against his cock, pinching your nipples as he leans back and watches the show. As you tremble and come down from your high, Hiromi's gaze doesn't falter as he releases his cock, falling long and throbbing against his belly, the head red and angry with deprivation.

Pulling upwards on your twisted t-shirt and his tie, your wrists buckle and you're forced up onto your knees, thighs shaking with effort. Hiromi leans forwards, cupping you round the cheek and forcing your head to tilt as he nips the side of your neck, whispering dirty affirmations to you, his thumb dipping over your lower lip to stroke your tongue. Hiromi whines, biting your neck harder as you latch onto his thumb, flicking your tongue against its sensitive tip.

"We'll save that wet little tongue for later...but for now--"

With little warning, Hiromi bucks up into you, yanking you down against so your arse claps against his thighs, and you choke out a cry of his name as you twitch, his cockhead immediately deep and throbbing against your cervix. Hiromi moans through gritted teeth, bucking upwards, urging a constant pressure against your belly.

Leaning back onto the sofa and pulling you with him, Hiromi keeps you tethered down against him as he thrusts relentlessly up into you while you mewl his name, face muffled into his chest, smelling of sweat, smoke and this morning's cologne. Hiromi starts to fall apart, one hand twisting your wrists and the other grasping your cheek, urging you to look up at him. He hooks his thumb into your mouth again, an overwhelming burst of love and desire rushing through him at your flushed cheeks and glazed 'fuck me' eyes.

"Open up," he whispers, and you keen at him as he spits in your mouth, his spit hot and smoky, mixing with yours. Hiromi firmly squeezes the front of your throat as you move to swallow-- "don't. I need you wetter."

Holding his hand to your mouth, you coat Hiromi's first and middle fingers with your combined spit, and Hiromi ducks his hand between your flush bodies, coating your clit with the slick as he rolls, strokes and flicks your bud in his long, clever fingers. You gasp and your hips hump reflexively into him and Hiromi whimpers, desperate.

"Please cum with me-- I can't last--" Hiromi whines, eyes narrowed and desperate as his hips flick upwards, orgasm clenched in his thighs and back as he holds himself back, watching you twist and writhe your clit and cervix against his fingers and cockhead.

Sweaty and trembling with overstimulation, your second orgasm has you seeing stars, and Hiromi's eyes roll back as he feels your pussy flutter and clench around him, all he needed to bring him over the edge.

"Oooh, fuck-- fuck, please-- deeper-- deeper I'm--" Hiromi babbles, breaking off into nonsensical whimpers as he spasms roughly, his thighs cramping and head spinning with the force of his orgasm, gasping agonal moans into your hair as his seed coats your cervix in white, seeping down around his twitching cock until his lap is slick with cum.

You lean back together, both panting, inextricably tied. Hiromi lightheadedly releases the binds on your hands, floppy and pliable, his cock softening, sated, inside you.

Hiromi hears a grating flick, and smells a puff of flame, as you press something to his lips. Chuckling, he grips the cigarette between his lips, taking a dutiful inward breath and surrounding you both in a warm cloud of fragrant tobacco.

"Don't need one anymore," he whispers, sandy and playful, his embering eyes gazing at you in adoration, "you're far better stress-relief."

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Thanks to @gojo-mochi for the filthy banter and inspo

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sanospet · 3 months ago

Text

✩ GAME OVER ✩

𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 - 𝘎𝘈𝘔𝘌𝘙!𝘚𝘏𝘐𝘎𝘈𝘙𝘈𝘒𝘐 𝘛𝘖𝘔𝘜𝘙𝘈 𝘟 𝘙𝘌𝘈𝘋𝘌𝘙

𝘲𝘶𝘰𝘵𝘦 : collecting the nectar, you pressed them to his lips with a smile, following the actions he often displayed to you, tomura letting you set your digits on his tongue with a playful roll of the eyes, lapping at the liquid as you pulled them out with a sweet pop, "you're having too much fun," hitched breath cutting his words short as your fingers clasped around his length, pumping, a breathy moan all that he could manage. "you look so pretty like this, can you really blame me ?" whispering, tomura's skin burning as your lips grazed his ear, his mind whirring as the 'game over' screen's music echoed off of the walls. eyes squeezed shut, face contorting in bliss, a thin layer of sweat offering subtle highlights to his skin as you worked him, your thumb circling his tip, giving gentle squeezes.

warnings and notes!

18+ . mdni . smut . pwp . quirkless au . gamer tomura x gamer reader . oral (amab & afab receiving) . handjob . deep throating . edging . cum denial . fingering (afab receiving) . tomura lets the reader dom him a little . casual sex . they’re playing ff15 (heavily mentioned throughout but you don’t need to really know the game to read this imo) . whiny/pouty reader . usage of nicknames (“kid” , “baby”, “love”) . teasing & lots of giggles . sweet filth . reader is afab . reader’s gender is mentioned . reader’s pronouns aren’t mentioned . reader’s sex is mentioned . proofread though there may still be some spelling mistakes, enjoy!

authors note!

i haven’t posted anything in months but i’ve been writing, lol. coming up with a lot of different concepts as well as sparsely working on the next chapter of “veiled blossoms”, it’s just kinda heavy so it’s hard to write, haha. i feel slightly rusty and as if this isn’t my best work but i hope it’s good enough, i’m treating it as a warm-up (?) of sorts, as i get back into my flow. a lot has been going on and a lot has happened in my life in the past few months, life-changing things and i’m just trying to navigate it all as well as tap into my creativity more frequently and freely again. thank you so much for reading, i deeply appreciate it and i hope you enjoy this quick read! <3

- linus

the dull buzz of the game console echoed off of the white walls of tomura's bedroom, the paint tinted with a soft blue hue alongside the posters which adorned them, due to the television. the soft knocks of the knobs on the controller among the gentle, yet frustrated, grunts that slipped past tomura's lips offering a comforting ambiance, something you'd grown quite used to.

a subtle scowl, of which you were sure he was unaware, sewing his features together as noctis' movements slowed down on the screen for the nth time, tomura shifting to zap him to the nearest warp point, prompto falling in the meantime, leaving the low hp duo of gladiolus and ignis amidst the chaos of battle. your gaze shifting between the screen, tomura, and the urgency of his thumbs as countless coeurl's shredded through his team, depleting their health further as tomura frantically distributed health potions to evade death.

rigid posture cushioned by an array of pillows, tomura's gaze remained fixed on the screen before him, eyes darting from the gameplay to the wavering health status of each member, concentrating deeply, a slight furrow in his brow. he sat upright, alert, on edge almost, in contrast to your laying form beside him, attempting to watch his gameplay earnestly, yet failing to do so.

with his over-washed, slightly faded band-tee riding up his torso, almost matching the one you'd currently adorned, having stolen it out of his closet earlier that day. the shoulder seams hanging slightly lower on your arms than they ever did his, the faint musky scent embedded within the threading, mixing with the wafting vanilla candle you had lit not too long ago, offering a sweet sense of solace. with the thin trail of hair peaking beneath his shirt, exposed by the sliver of skin that was on display, crawling beneath the hem of his underwear, you'd found it increasingly difficult to keep your eyes straight before you.

you loved watching tomura game, just as much as he loved watching you. sessions filled with giggles and exasperated sighs, pushing the controllers into each others hands once things got too frustrating, celebrating your joint wins with high-fives and gentle kisses. yet, your offer to take over had been declined this time around, tomura refusing to let his pride wane in the face of his third "game over" screen, a controlled sigh leaving his lips as he entered the bounty's vicinity once more, teeth gritted.

niveous tendrils framing his soft features, shaggy hair resting on the tense, slightly raised, muscles of his shoulders. tomura's skin was slightly illuminated amidst the dark surroundings, ruby gaze darting across the screen in focus. his grip on the controller tightening as he moved with fervour, jaw clenching. your sight trailing over his disgruntled form, a small smile playing on your lips at the display.

tomura had the unyielding tendency to get riled up whilst gaming, often vocal in his distresses and victories, his concentrated glare on the screen something you'd grown quite fond of, bottom lip tucked between his teeth, immersed.

fingers lifting, moving to tuck loose tendrils behind his ear, earning a soft smile from the other, his muscles seeming to ease up slightly at the subtle action. touch shifting toward his exposed skin, drawing shapes on the flesh of his abdomen as your lips met his neck, tomura's head cocking to the side, offering more access, a shaky breath leaving his lips. "you're distracting me, kid," voice laced with gravel, your lips grazed his ear and he could feel your smirk against him "would you like me to stop ?" words whispered, a kitten lick, the tip of your tongue gently dragging up the edge of his ear, goosebumps rising in response to your touch, breath offering warmth to his skin, "i never said that," through a controlled exhale, "just continue on for me, then, love," setting a gentle kiss to his cheek.

fingers inching beneath the fabric of his joggers, resting upon the cloth of his boxers, you began to palm his most sensitive part, lips moving against the rough skin of his neck delicately, offering pecks and soft suction, marking him, a sharp gasp leaving tomura's chest. motions slow, grating, softly chuckling as he spoke, "you know i hate teasing, baby," a small scoff, brows knitting, "you tease me all the time," you pushed, "that's different," shrugging, tone relaxed, "is not!" you retorted, "and you never let up, no matter how much i beg," lips curling in response to your pout saturated words, his gaze remaining locked onto the screen, "i don't beg, kid," a gentle shake of his head as he spoke.

your fingers moving to slip from beneath his clothing, his hand leaving the controller, flying to catch your wrist, slowly turning meeting your gaze. with a taunting a quirk in your brow, smirk sewing your features, you sat in wait, teeth chewing the inside of his cheek as he took a beat, sighing in defeat, "please, baby," the words dripping with plead, guiding your grip beneath the layer of his dampened underwear, pre-cum soaking through the thin fabric, the sweetly spoken words sweeping a rosy blush across his cheeks, "anything else ?" you teased, head cocking to the side, a small smile curling his lips at the prod, "thank you," your nose brushing past his with a small smile, setting a kiss to his lips as his gaze returned to the screen, unpausing, "you're lucky i'm nicer than you are," a chuckle leaving his lips, "aren't i just."

shifting his hips as you pulled down the constricting pieces of fabric, a sharp hiss slipping past his lips as your fingers grazed the tip of his hardened cock gently. collecting the nectar, you pressed them to his lips with a smile, following the actions he often displayed to you, tomura letting you set your digits on his tongue with a playful roll of the eyes, lapping at the liquid as you pulled them out with a sweet pop, "you're having too much fun," hitched breath cutting his words short as your fingers clasped around his length, pumping, a breathy moan all that he could manage. "you look so pretty like this, can you really blame me ?" whispering, tomura's skin burning as your lips grazed his ear, his mind whirring as the 'game over' screen's music echoed off of the walls. eyes squeezed shut, face contorting in bliss, a thin layer of sweat offering subtle highlights to his skin as you worked him, your thumb circling his tip, giving gentle squeezes.

"fuck, you made me die..." through a laugh, it soon morphing into a chesty groan, a lazy, open-mouthed smile on his lips, "there's no way i'll be able to beat this when you're-" setting a gentle kiss to his tip with a change in position, licking a ring around it, offering gentle circles around it with a curved tongue before slipping his length into your mouth. pulling out, your gaze locking with his once more, your hand continuing to stroke him, "when i'm what ?" tone innocent with a cocked head in question, legs swaying in his playful kicks behind you.

"god, you're so annoying sometimes," through a choked giggle, earning one in turn from you as you set sweet pecks on his length, tomura's alertness dwindling. his gaze failing to stay on the screen for longer than a second, entranced by your performance, dusty rose setting deeply in his cheeks as your eyes fluttered shut, a loose smile hung on your features as your lips worked him, setting gentle kisses and kitten licks to his cock, soft moans slipping past your lips, offering subtle vibrations to his length as you took him into your mouth.

his core tightening at the sight of you seemingly worshipping his cock, goosebumps trailing his skin as your head bobbed, suppressed groans escaping his lips as your throat relaxed, nose kissing his pelvis in chase of his melodic sounds. the muscle contracting around his length as you choked, fingernails digging into your palms as you held yourself in position, a flurry of moans soon escaping his lips in tow. head thrown back, hips staggering, bucking reflexively as his back arched off of the slew of pillows in which it rested upon.

pulling back, a thin string of saliva, the only connection between the two of you before your hands moved to work him once more, gaze lifting to meet the screen behind you before shifting to him. lust swimming within the fire in his eyes, hot embers offering licks under his hooded gaze, piercing your skin with desire. tousled shaggy hair sticking to his skin, lips parted, pants falling from them with each breath he took. the pit of your stomach contorting at the sight, a small whimper threatening to leave your throat under the harsh gaze, tomura's trance like state snapping under your hooked forefinger, directing his attention back to the screen before him, "noctis is dying," a small gasp as his thumbs moved once more, "fuck-" through a chuckle as he gave him another elixir, "too distracting ?" you questioned, words laced thickly with tease, as you set a soft kiss to his tip once more, earning a small smirk from the man, "not at all," sarcasm drenching the reply.

a giggle leaving your lips at the snide remark, your hand shifting his own, threading his fingers through your locks, guiding your mouth onto him once more. tomura's free hand shifting to pause the movement on the screen, hips bucking as your throat relaxed around him, a whisper of a whimper falling from his chest as his hips rolled, head dropping back against the pillows once more as he used you. movements slow, inching deeper and deeper down your throat before pulling just up to his tip, pushing your head down once more with fervour, repeating the movements over, growing desperate as he continued. sweet, chesty groans falling from his lips, choked and growing in volume as the coil in his stomach tightened, your face deepening in rose as oxygen evaded you, fists tight, eyes squeezed shut as he decorated your throat with pearl.

with matching pants, your gaze met once more, the sight of his breathy and fucked out form erupting butterflies within your stomach, tomura thumbing your bottom lip in wait, the pond of his seed within your mouth inciting a smile from the man, needing nothing but for your eyes to meet once more to recognise his desires, soon displaying your tongue after a swallow. tomura's hand remained tangled within your hair, pulling you closer as your lips interlocked, tasting remnants of himself on your tongue as your lips moved.

pulling away, lazy gaze raking over your features, your eyes filled with yearning, breaths intermingling as he smoothed a hand over your messy hair, "such a sweet girl," the soft words whispered, filled with praise as he tucked unruly strands behind your ear, rose dusting your cheeks, heart swelling as he spoke. shifting to lay you down against the pillows, "you wouldn't mind taking over for me, would you, baby ?" pushing the controller to your chest with a smirk, situating himself between your legs.

"you don't actually expect me to beat it, do you ?" brows knitting as the paused screen met you, "what, you don't think you can ?" teasing, setting a gentle kiss to your inner thigh, "t-that's unfair," you pushed, a ghost of a pout, "what was it you said earlier about you being kinder than i am ?" chuckling, "but listen, i'll be nicer this time, yeah ? a reward is in store," the words convincing, "well, can i at least know what i'm working toward ?" eyes round, pleading as his fingers drew shapes on your skin, "cumming."

a sharp intake of breath, "you wouldn't..." brows knitting as your bottom lip jut out just so, "and why wouldn't i ?" a smirk curling his lips, teasing, "i hate edging and you know that..." your whines met with a shrug of his shoulders, "and i hate being teased, but here we are, love," a soft laugh, tomura setting encouraging pats to your outer thigh, "you oughta be more confident, kid," your silence erupting another giggle from the man, "what, you gonna call me mean ?" head cocking, teasing, pain pout decorating his lips, "no need to say it if you already know it," murmured words earning another laugh, "stop pouting and play the game, kid."

tomura's fingers inched beneath your shirt at the click of the unpause button, soon resting atop your bare chest. kneading the mound, squeezing harshly, earning a wince as he tugged at your nipple, pinching and rolling it between his forefinger and thumb. his lips planting kisses between your thighs, teeth grazing the sensitive skin, leaving blossoming marks that matched his own.

tomura's stomach tightened, throat forming a lump at the sight of your underwear, the only bottoms you adorned beneath his oversized band tee. the dark patch of fabric clinging to your skin, outlining your folds with precision, the soaked cloth practically peeling away as he removed them. throwing your legs over his shoulders, hooded gaze flicking over to your frazzled form, shoulders tense as his nose dragged over your bundle of nerves ever so slowly, causing you to jerk slightly, swallowing a moan through a clenched jaw. "relax, baby," setting soothing strokes to your thigh, "and let me hear you."

pushing gentle kisses to your heat, curled tongue offering circular strokes, lips wrapping around your nub, adding the slightest bit of suction before pulling away with a wet pop. diving back in with laps, nose dragging your essence up and through your folds, his arms wrapping around your thighs, holding your shifty form in place as your thumbs moved against the controller, attempting to heal your team despite having only half the brain to pay attention.

tomura's head dipping lower, your gaze unable to stay on the screen as he made out with your most sensitive part, his eyes shut in bliss as he tongued your entrance, soft mewls escaping you at the act, the coil in your stomach tightening at the sight, tomura swiftly retracting at the dull hum of the 'game over' screen, a frustrated sigh leaving your lips at the act, head thrown back in defeat, earning a laugh from the man.

"fuck," through an exasperated breath, drawled out with a whine, earning a soft laugh from the man, "try again, love," your fingers shifting as you entered the bounty's vicinity once more, a ghost of a frown haunting your features. tomura's movements continued, earning somewhat of a cry as he slipped a finger in, your frazzled mind attempting to win as you haphazardly switched weapons, healing team members as best as you could, the coeurl's seemingly appearing in endless streams.

doubling the dosage, his fingers curled, hitting that spongey part that only he could ever reach, a sharp intake of breath was all you could muster as his thumb continued to stroke that sweet bundle of nerves, tomura peppering kisses along your thighs. a soft laugh leaving his lips as your hips began to roll, meeting his stride as moans sat heavy on your tongue, his mouth meeting your heat once more, the pace of his fingers quickening as he pumped you, your eyes squeezing shut as your walls squeezed around tomura's fingers and soon, nothing at all, eyes flying open with a frustrated whine.

"rules are rules, kid," offering soothing strokes to your stomach, a wicked glint in his eye, shrugging, "but it's just...it's hard when you're-" a smirk, "when i'm what ?" pitch high, tone mocking as his hands were on you again, resuming his prior movements, earning an eye roll and a disgruntled sigh, tomura laughing at that.

thumbs moving swiftly against the controller, you were down to one coeurl and fresh out of both potions and elixirs, heartbeat rising as noctis, the only moving member on your team, performed his warp attack, his health depleting rapidly. tomura's gaze shifting to the screen for but a moment, a soft smile on his face, "you're so close, kid, c'mon," he pushed, lips on you once more as you finished the last one off through gritted teeth, the controller soon hitting the bed with a bounce as you dropped it.

tomura allowing your fingers to thread through his locks as your hips rolled against his tongue with a fiery need, his fingers pumping you at an unforgiving pace. the coil in your stomach tightening for what seemed like the hundredth time, soon coming undone in waves, goosebumps rising on your skin as your body shook, a flurry of moans leaving your lips as tomura worked you through your high.

chest rising and falling, tomura hovered over you once more setting a soft kiss to your lips, "that's a good girl," lips grazing yours, "i think a bigger reward is in order, don't you ?" his hardened cock dragging between your folds, gaze hooded as he spoke, your eyes rounding with plead, "please..."

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