Alice

“Qifrey! Ahh- Please~” Your voice rings out, echoing off the empty atelier’s walls. Thankfully, the girls are out of the atelier at the moment, in the great hall visiting Richeh’s older brother. Qifrey and Olruggio would be horrified to find out they heard you, a small sensual sound heard by the girls? No sex for weeks or even months, you’d be too mortified to even think about it. Which is why you and your lover have resorted to waiting till the girls are out of the atelier, unfortunately Olruggio is not spared from you and Qifrey’s shenanigans.

The sound of skin plapping can be heard all throughout the Atelier, the sound even travels to Olruggio’s separate atelier, on the opposite side of the building connected only by a hallway. 

It’s obscene, truly. You’d feel shy if it wasn’t for your lover’s hands gripping into your hips hard enough to bruise, pulling you back to take his length fully whenever you tried to run from him. The smell of sex has filled the air of your shared room for hours now, Qifrey was pent up from having to wait weeks if not months to get you bare under him again. Now he finally has you like this, he isn’t wasting a single minute of it, you feel so full, so full of him, not just from his cock, but from the several loads he’s already fucked into you.

“My dear, you’re so tight still, looks like I haven’t been thorough with you, heavens- I won’t last if you keep squeezing me like that!” Qifrey’s voice rings out, bouncing off the walls. The declaration makes you clench around him even more.

“Qifrey- My love, please! I want more,” Although you are equally as insatiable, if not more than him. Can you really be at fault? Qifrey just has to go around looking like a snack you can’t have, you’ve considered cornering him and taking him deep in your throat, out of sight of others, but alas, you are also a responsible adult, no matter how badly you want to taste him.

Your endeavors continue for hours, you don’t stop until both you and Qifrey are satisfied, absolutely ruined, you can barely walk! When you finally do manage to leave your shared room for a snack or water, your eyes meet with a very disturbed pair of blue eyes.

Oh no.

The girls were out.

Olruggio wasn’t.

“I’m so sorry!” The words tumble from your lips before you can stop and think if he really did hear, but of course he did! You and Qifrey are quite the energetic pair, especially in bed with no reservations. Olruggio’s eyes look a mixture of tired and deeply disturbed. The shyness that was so conveniently missing earlier now returns, tenfold.

“I’ll make it up to you! Uhh, Oh! I know I'll get you your favorite honey buns from the bakery in town nearby! I can still make it before they close!” You dash out the door, half haphazardly grabbing a cloak, avoiding any further eye contact with Olruggio. While you are out, Qifrey comes down from your shared room, he sees Olruggio’s death glare and can only laugh sheepishly. 

You return with a box full of still fresh honey buns, alongside some sweets you know Olruggio likes. You drop the box full of goodies in front of him.

“I’m so sorry, if you ever hear us again I’ll buy you more, I promise!”

It happened again,

And again,

And again.

“Why are you wet?”

You feel like this is a fair question; your partner, Qifrey, who notably does not like water in the slightest, is soaking wet in your shared room. His hair looks crazy, sticking in odd directions, and he is actively dripping water on the floor. His hair is dark against his pale skin, not black but a darker grey compared to his usual white.

The look on his face is what makes you freeze; his expression is something that cannot be put into words, but a mix of terror and something else.

“What's wrong?” 

“I can’t feel anything,”

“What do you mean you can't feel?”

He relays to you his endeavours, you’re furious at him for taking such a risk, and not letting you know anything about it until after. You grabbed his arm, but he jerked it away.

“I didn’t feel that, it's the lightning spell; it electrocuted me, so I can’t feel anything, I can’t even feel you. ” He is shaking now, the knowledge that he is covered in water but can’t feel it unsettles him greatly, although the idea of never being able to feel you against him is worse. 

“I’ve heard that physical activity helps with this. Here, get your clothes off first, you’re making a mess.”  

You start undoing the fastening around him; you’ve gotten good at getting them off quickly from the amount of quickies you’ve had to sneak in, after all, Qifrey is a busy man with responsibilities.

 After stripping him down to his bare skin, you grab a towel and start drying him. As you are around his thighs, you realize all hope is not lost as his cock is stirring with interest, slowly growing thicker. Maybe it's the fact that it’s been a long time since the last time you had the time to have your hands on each other, or the fact that you are kneeling in front of him while he is naked; the sexual implications are there.

Qifrey stands still, his hands are slightly shaking from gripping his own wrists so hard, his knuckles are white from the force,  like inflicting enough pain will somehow break through the numbness.

You grab both his hands and pull them apart. 

“I have an idea. It’s like killing 2 birds with one stone.” You back him up against a nearby wall so he is flush against it. You drop to your knees and kissing his inner thighs, a devious smirk creeping on your face.

“I’ll fuck the feeling back into you.” 

You pin his hands to the wall, holding them by his wrists, all while pressing a kiss along his white happy trail. 

“My love,” his voice comes out gentle, “I’m afraid that I won’t be able to cum like this.”

His worry is logical. How can he when he can’t feel your hands on him?

Thankfully, you already had something up your sleeve for this. You had spotted some chocolate being advertised as aphrodisiacs while you were out, you grabbed some with the idea of having fun with Qifrey, but from the looks of it, it's getting its use prematurely, not planned, but you’re not against it either. 

Qifrey slowly chews on the chocolate, you gave him the one with less sugar cause he can’t taste right now anyway. He is sitting naked on the side of your bed, hair damp but not soaked.

After a few moments, you notice his ears are getting a bit red, his cheeks are flushed like he is embarrassed, but what catches your attention the most is his cock, painfully red and leaking from the head. Qifrey isn’t the biggest you’ve seen, but he is the prettiest, a pale cock with a pink head. He isn’t lacking in length either, sitting at 6.5 inches, while hard, it's enough to make your mouth water. Thankfully, he is a grower, not a shower, because can you imagine walking around with THAT in between your legs?

You kneel in front of him, nuzzling his hard cock. You kiss it, tasting his precum coating the tip of your tongue. You’ve missed this, the weight of his cock on your tongue, the musky taste of him that makes your mouth water in anticipation. Now you finally have it, you don’t waste a drop. You slowly warm up to having him in your mouth again; your jaw is sore from opening your mouth so wide, but you don’t care. He hits the back of your throat, each and every time his dick twitches in response, you look up at him. His eye is wide, looking at you, taking him with such skill; his face hasn’t stopped blushing, and his hands have found their place in your hair. He’s sweating, his hair sticking to his face, low moans and groans escape him, good, that means he can feel your efforts.

“Darling, you’re so beautiful. Nngh~” The praise falls from his lips; he’s always been the type to “talk you through it,” a louder moan escapes from his lips.

“Love, I won’t last long, you’re so pretty like this, taking me so well.” His hips start to buck up into your throat. 

Shame.

You haven’t even pulled out your deepest weapon yet. 

You take a deep breath, relaxing your throat, then swallow him fully. His hips buck up, and a borderline pornographic moan escapes him. You can’t breathe when he is in the depths of your throat, but the view you have of Qifrey is enough to take your breath away. He doesn’t last like this; he spills hot down your throat, and you pull back enough to coat your tongue in cum. The taste of him on you is slightly bitter but musky; you’ve grown to love it over your relationship. You swallow all of his cum, sticking out your tongue to show him what a good job you did, swallowing everything in one go.

He takes a sharp inhale at your actions, lewd and erotic wouldn’t begin to cover what this view of you is doing to him. You rise, standing up,

“Did you feel that one?” You purr against his still red ear.

“A little bit, I felt your throat and my cum coming out, but the view is what did me”

You frown at his statement. That's not going to be enough for you; you want the best for him. You want him to regain more feeling through this method.

“Looks like you need some more of my special treatment.”

You shove him down on the bed, and he hits the bed with a quiet ‘oomf.’ You strip the rest of your clothes, so atleast you’re equal in terms of clothedness, which is none, you approach him with a mischievous glint in your eyes.  You straddle him, making sure your warm core sits wetly on top of his “oversensitive” cock, you grind back and forth, spreading your slippery arousal all over him. His breath hitches at the sight of you spreading your folds open over him,

“Love, you look positively divine,” his eyes grow darker, ”and dangerous for my sanity.”

“I’ll drive you to the edge,” You bend down to speak sultry into his ear, “over and over, until you’re begging me for mercy.”

Qifrey closes his eye and shudders under you at your words; his poor cock twitches against you, unaware of the night it's about to experience. You take that as your sign to start, you position yourself over him, your own slick connected in strings to him, you tap the head against your clit a few times, the small wet sounds it makes are obscene. 

His head catches at your entrance, you sink down, he stretches you so well, just like you were made for him. You don’t give yourself the chance to savor him; you rock your hips back and forth, feeling him twitch inside you. You glance at the white-haired man beneath you; the sight belongs to your eyes only. His eye is wide open, staring at where you connect, his face is flushed, his mouth slightly open, letting out small ‘oohs’ and ‘ahs’. 

Positively sinful.

You increase the pace now, bouncing on him, his hands find your hips and squeeze them until his fingernails leave little crescent moon marks all over your skin. You don’t stop at this; if anything, you double down harder. Your legs are on fire and are about to give out if you don’t take a break, but you can’t seem to stop. 

You shift so you’re now kneeling instead of squatting over him, slowly bouncing, giving your poor thighs a little break.  You lean down, pressing a tender kiss to his eye, and the scar where his other eye would’ve sat. Qifrey whines at your kiss; no one ever looks at his missing eye, let alone kisses it. It makes him feel seen and accepted, something only you can give to him like this.

Maybe it's the kisses or the intimate rocking, but he gets pushed to the edge again. The chocolate made him extra sensitive, even when he couldn’t feel it. His hips stutter very slightly against yours, his hands drop to where you connect, rubbing slow circles over your clit. He is still eager to bring you over the edge with him, even when he probably won’t get to feel his own orgasm fully. His eye meets your pair, like he was asking together? without words.

You can only nod as you feel the edge approaching.

His hips buck up to meet yours, chasing to fall over the edge together, his hands haven’t once stopped their gentle assault on your now sensitive clit, and the stimulation while being on the edge is enough to send you over the edge, headfirst.

Your body locks over him, you feel the orgasm wash over you, and you let out a guttural moan. Your legs shake from overuse, and the intensity of hormones rushing through your body. Qifrey doesn’t fare much better; he lets out a broken moan followed by a curse, rare from him, especially now that he is a teacher. He shoots up into you, filling you with his cum, a rare luxury for you. 

“I felt that one,” Qifrey breaks the silence first, still panting, he sits up hugging you, “I’ve missed you, darling,” You perk up,

“That's great, that means your feelings are coming back-”

Your sentence gets cut off when Qifrey pulls out and flips you onto your knees in one fluid motion. You look back at your lover, only to be met with a harsh slap to your rear. His voice has taken a low and dangerous tone.

“Can you handle me now? You fed me the chocolate, now you need to handle the consequences.”

He thrusts into you in one motion, you swear you can feel him in your throat as he sets a brutal and unforgiving pace. He finds the spot that makes you scream, targeting it. It's almost like he wants to ruin you even more. How the tables have turned.

You’re lucky you have the silencing spell; otherwise, you’d have a little knock at your door, asking if you’re alright.

His balls slap against your clit over and over again, providing just the right amount of stimulation to push you close to the edge. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, you feel his hand grabbing your jaw roughly, he forces you to look up at him, his blue eye almost black from desire. 

“What's so interesting in the back of your head?”

His voice comes out close to a growl, but he doesn’t waste time for you to respond; he forces 2 of his slender pale fingers into your mouth, he gets close, and you’d think he’s about to kiss you, but he spits directly into your mouth instead.

 You swallow instinctually, your mouth full of him, full of Qifrey. He lets go of your mouth and jaw roughly, your head swings back to the bed, he grabs your hair, burying your face in his sheets as he pounds you. 

SMACK

You hear him smack your ass before you feel it; your poor brain is in overdrive.

“Be a good girl and take it, I’m close,” His hips slightly stutter before moving with more force, “I’m cumming.” His voice comes out close to a moan, directly into your ear. You feel so full, he must’ve missed you a lot, filling you this much at once; his balls must've been so heavy just thinking about you.

He pulls out tenderly, his cock still hard, his cum dripping out of you, your rear still up in the air like a cat in heat. His hands come up to your waist tenderly, soothing your cheeks, not before massaging them thoroughly.

“You can take one more round, right?”  His hands help you turn around so your back is against the bed. 

You would glare at your insatiable partner, but the innocent look he has on his face makes you falter. He cocks his head to the side and smiles, “Please?” 

He knows how to push your buttons, and how you have a soft spot for him like this, you can’t say no to him like this.

It's not like he waits for you to respond anyway; he hooks your legs and presses you into the bed. He teases your folds, which are wet from a mixture of your own arousal and his cum. He pushes in, and any complaint or remarks you had catch in your throat. The pace he sets is more sensual, gentle, purely focused on making love, instead of fucking like animals. His hand drops down to your clit, rubbing small, slow circles, making sure not to overwhelm you. He is still so considerate of you; even when he is like this, it makes your heart warm.

His lips capture yours, soft and gentle, but needy.

He doesn’t last long like this, how could he? He’s making love with you, kissing you breathless, not to mention how tight you get when he rubs you just the way you like it. You cum first, seizing around him, your walls sucking him in more. He whines at the sudden tightness around him, his eyes roll back, as he loses himself in your heat. He cums with a broken moan.

You milk him for all he is worth, you make sure he is dry, and the chocolate is out of his system. 

He collapses onto you, careful not to crush you, his breath hot against your skin. Qifrey pants against your nape, pressing lazy kisses to it, he gingerly pulls out.

“We’ve made such a mess, darling,” he says, looking down at the sheets between your legs, wet with your own arousal and his cum that dripped out of you. “I’ll clean you up.”

You expect him to grab a cloth or help you up, but his face is between your legs, looking mischievous. He presses a gentle kiss to your poor core, spreading your folds; he tastes you and him combined, he gives you a happy smile, “We taste wonderful, I can’t get enough.” His head buries itself between your legs.

Qifrey is going to be the death of you.

“Why are you wet?”

You feel like this is a fair question; your partner, Qifrey, who DOES NOT like water in the slightest, is soaking wet in your shared room. His hair looks crazy, sticking in odd directions, and he is actively dripping water on the floor. However, the look on his face is what haunts you; his expression is something that cannot be put into words, but a mix of terror and something else.

“What's wrong?” Your voice comes out concerned.

“I can’t feel anything,”

“What do you mean you can't feel?”

He relays to you his endeavours, you’re furious at him for taking such a risk, and not letting you know anything about it until after. You grabbed his arm, but he jerked it away.

“I didn’t feel that, it's the lightning spell; it electrocuted me, so I can’t feel anything, I can’t even feel you. ” He is shaking now, the knowledge that he is covered in water but can’t feel it unsettles him greatly, the idea of never being able to feel you is worse. 

“I’ve heard that physical activity helps with this. Here, get your clothes off first, you’re making a mess.”  You start undoing the fastening around him; you’ve gotten good at getting them off quickly from the amount of quickies you’ve had to sneak in. 

 After stripping him down to his bare skin, you grab a towel and start drying him. As you are around his thighs, you realize all hope is not lost as his cock is stirring with interest, slowly growing thicker. Maybe it's the fact that it’s been a long time since the last time you had the time to have your hands on each other, or the fact that you are kneeling in front of him while he is naked; the implications are there. Qifrey stands still without much of a fight; his hands are slightly shaking from gripping his own wrists so hard, like inflicting enough pain will somehow break through the numbness.

You grab both his hands and pull them apart. You stand, 

“I have an idea. It’s like killing 2 birds with one stone.” You back him up against a nearby wall so he is flush against it. You drop to your knees and kiss his inner thighs, a devious smirk creeping on your face.

“Let's fuck him up!” Olruggio swings his arm around you; you can still smell the wine on his breath. You take in your surroundings. Qifrey is now sitting at his desk, covered with what you can only assume are spells for the girls. You’re sure Olruggio has the best interests in mind, but maybe forcing you and Qifrey in the same room while you are arguing isn’t the best play, and “fucking him up” would not help either. You manage to shake Olruggio’s arm off your shoulder,

“I’m not interested in beating anyone up tonight,” you turn towards Qifrey, “sorry for intruding, I’ll take my leave now.” Maybe it's your fault for letting Olruggio drink so much, or taking your eyes off of him, but when you turn, you realize he erased the door with a wall spell, and he put the piece of paper down on Qifrey’s desk. 

Olruggio does something you’d never expect him to do, especially in front of you. You do forgive him since he is drunk, but kissing Qifrey in front of you is a bit much, no? Qifrey looks surprised for a moment before melting into the kiss, just like you weren’t even there. You were aware that they had a more intimate relationship going on between them, but seeing it with your own eyes makes your heart twinge. You should leave; you shouldn’t be watching this, but your feet are frozen in place like someone had bound them to the floor. The kiss gets more heated, but Qifrey pushes Olruggio off of him before any clothes could come off.  

“(Y/N), I’m sorry about what I said about your family.” Qifrey's apology surprises you; that's not what you expected from him after he made out with your best friend in front of you. You felt words fail you as you struggled to figure out what to say. You weren’t ready to accept the apology though.

“I’m still upset about what you said and what just happened in front of me.”

“You were supposed to join in,” Olruggio said, walking towards you, “Make-up sex is great.”

Atleast Qifrey shared the same horrified/surprised look on your face,

“I don’t think that's a good idea, me and Qifrey -”

“I know about the night you both got drunk, Qifrey told me eventually.” Olruggio now stood in front of you; you could feel the heat from his body radiating off of him. He had always run on the hotter side, while you and Qifrey ran on the colder side. Your mind scrambles for an excuse to leave; it's not that you don’t want to be intimate with them, but this is a little too sudden.

“I’m a virgin.” You blurt it out before you stop yourself, it is true though, aside from those hookups while drunk, you’ve never been touched or touched another person in that way, which is embarrassing to admit considering your age. They both look surprised, Olruggio grabs your wrist and guides you towards Qifrey. Qifrey spoke directly into your ear,

“We don’t need to go that far, would that be okay, dear?”

You feel your underwear dampen; you wanted this, you shouldn’t want this, but you need it.

“I suppose so,” you say, turning away from Qifrey. Olruggio acts first, gently guiding your face towards him and into a gentle kiss. His free arm runs around your waist, down to your rear, and he gives it a rough squeeze. You squeak in response, breaking the kiss, you’ve never been handled like this before, not by these two. Olruggio pushes you down into Qifrey’s chair that you didn’t realize had been moved. Qifrey had to have moved it the moment you looked away. These two always had good teamwork, but you never imagined it would translate to the bedroom. Olruggio gets on his knees in front of you, unbuttons your pants with experienced fingers, and it makes you wonder how much they’ve done this. That thought is quickly shelved when he pulls your pants and panties off in one go, the cold air shocks you, but the string of your own arousal connecting you and your underwear shocks you more. The two men freeze and stare for a few moments before Qifrey breaks the silence with,

“Damn.” 

Olruggio pulls it off completely, leaving you bare from the bottom down. He spreads your lips and dives in, but you’re too sensitive for how rough he is going; it's overstimulating, and you’re fighting the urge to close your legs. 

“Olly, you’re going to rough, look at her,” Qifrey kneels behind Olruggio. He places his hands on both your knees and spreads them out. Your brain freezes at the action.

“Be gentle, make sure to change it up, there you go, much better,” Qifrey purrs into Olruggio’s ear as he watches your face. His fingers are cool against your knees, but nothing about it makes the view any less hot. Qifrey keeps instructing Olruggio on how to bring you the most pleasure, and you start to block out any noise as your mind is spinning from how good it feels and how strange a situation this is. You can, however, catch little snippets of what Qifrey is saying to Olruggio,

“Good job, Olly, you’re doing so well.”

“Put a finger inside and slowly move it in and out. She liked it when I did it.”

“Curl it when you're inside, feel the ribbed spot? That's her G-spot. Pressing on it makes it feel really good.”

“Don’t forget about her clitoris, try sucking on it, ahh, there you go, look at her, she can’t even keep her eyes open.”

“Add another finger, Olly, she can handle it.”

You feel like you’re on fire, your body is burning against the cool air. Qifrey calls your name,

“(Y/N) keep your legs open for us.” His hands leave your legs and unbutton Olruggio’s pants. Your gaze has either been up at the ceiling or squeezed shut, so you haven’t noticed the large bulge in the black-haired man’s pants. You understand what Qifrey means and keep your legs open, your hands grabbing the sides of the chair to keep your balance. Olruggio is freed from the confines of his pants, and his penis is leaking precum, its stain through his pants and is dripping down his length. Qifrey spits into his own right hand and starts to work on Olruggio’s dick. Olruggio’s eyes are shut, but his focus is still on you, on giving you as much pleasure as he can. Qifrey rests his chin on the other man’s back. He flashes you an innocent smile, you would scoff or roll your eyes at him, but your eyes roll back instead.

You feel the pressure in your stomach, and it only gets more intense as Olly keeps ravaging you. You grow more sensitive as you get closer to your orgasm, you start squiriming in your seat wanting to pull away, but can’t because it feels too good. Qifrey sees your movements, he stills his hand on Olly, instead he grabs Olly’s own hand and guides it to his leaking cock. Qifrey gets up,  Olruggio is eating you out, fucking you with two fingers while running his other hand down on himself. A wave of pressure builds again, you squeeze your eyes shut, and you feel a pair of cool hands running through your hair. Qifrey had dried his soiled hand and is now comforting you, he presses a tender kiss on your temple before speaking.

“Look at Olly, he’s getting close, you can tell cause his ears are getting red, how cute.” 

Qifrey gets up and grabs a piece of cloth from who knows where. He hands it to Olly’s busy hand, the one working on himself. 

“I’m cumming,” you gasp as you start to tip over the edge. Qifrey returns to your side, and he holds you tight as you feel the orgasm hit. You’ve been trying to keep quiet this entire time, and for the most part, you’ve been successful, until your orgasm hits. You feel your body seize, you can’t stop the noise that comes spilling out of your mouth, so you turn and kiss Qifrey as an attempt to quiet yourself. Olruggio moans against you, prolonging the bliss. You hear Qifrey in your ear,

“He’s cumming too, my love.”

However, that doesn’t stop Olruggio from eating you out; instead, he doubles down, torturing your poor bud. That's how you found out that you’re a squirter: you feel a small gush before you can hold it back. Olly seems surprised, but he only slowed his antics, bringing you down slowly.

He leans back, and you see the mess you’ve made of him; his lips are rosy and swollen, shiny with your slick and squirt, it dribbles down to his beard, soaking it. He uses his linkrings on himself and is dry in seconds, along with the mess you’ve made of the floor, chair, and yourself.

“Do you take my apology now?” Qifrey asks, you turn to meet his eye for once. 

“I guess I do,” you respond, breathing hard. Hard to be mad at someone after an intense orgasm. Qifrey helps you up slowly, your breathing still erratic, he is about to guide you to the bathroom, but you pause and ask him,

“What about you?” You look down, and indeed, he hasn’t gone by unaffected. His own length is straining against his pants, but he pays no mind.

“You can pay me back next time.” Next time implies there's more; your heart almost skips a beat.

“I want to help you. I haven’t seen it before.” You feel your face grow hot at the confession; it is true, you had essentially blue balled Qifrey when you hooked up with him, you owe him an orgasm atleast. Qifrey slowly undoes his own pants and buckles that are in the way, you sink to your knees until your face to face with his throbbing member still in his boxers. Olruggio comes up behind you and helps you hold your hair back. You move your hands to pull his boxers down, his dick springing out, hitting you on the lips exactly. It’s pretty, it has a red flushed head with pale skin everywhere else, it's leaking precum but not dripping, it's smeared against Qifrey’s happy trail. He is skinnier compared to Olly, but his length makes up for it; you feel your mouth water. You envelop the tip in your mouth, and the taste of precum makes your mouth feel slippery. You try to take more of him, but gag when he hits the back of your throat. You try to force it down, but your throat refuses to open for Qifrey.

You feel a rough hand on your jaw; it's Olruggio, massaging it to help you relax. 

“Yer so tense, relax yer jaw, you’ll hurt yerself like this,”

He’s right, there was a pain from both sides of your jaw, you leaned back enough for Qifrey to fall out of your mouth. 

“Use your lips to cover your teeth, suck on the way down, love.”

Olruggio instructs you as you take Qifrey again, it's easier this time; you see Qifrey’s head fall back and a quiet “ohh~” escapes him. You find a rhythm, with Olruggio holding your hair back, adjusting you to a pace that Qifrey likes and using your hand on the parts of Qifrey you can't take. 

Qifrey’s knees buckle very slightly, he grabs onto the desk for support, and a moan rips out of his throat,

“Aah, I’m close,” You hesitate at the memory of Olruggio’s cum, it’s absolutely because of his horrid diet of beer and alcohol, and lack of sleep. Qifrey seems to understand your dilemma,

“Mngh- Don’t worry, I taste better than Olly, so swallow for me- hah, darling.” His hand moves to your ear, slowly rubbing it, almost like he wants to distract you from the mouthful you’re about to get. 

“You’ll be a good girl, right? For us?” Olruggio’s voice creeps in, his breath hot on your other ear. You feel Qifrey cum before he realizes it, an undignified sound coming from the man. He cums a lot, you feel it fill your mouth, and some spills from the corners of your mouth. Qifrey was right, he tastes oddly sweet, but sticky, almost like glue. You swallow a mouthful and let him ride out his orgasm on the roughness of your tongue, his hips buck into your mouth, running the most sensitive part of his dick on your tongue. He pulls back after a bit, the taste of him still sticking to your mouth. Olruggio’s hand comes back to your jaw and massages it; it feels sore now.

“You did so well for us,” his voice coos into your ear. You look up and make eye contact with a blue eye. Qifrey looks blissful; his cheeks are red from the activities you partook in,

“You should go wash up. You can use my bathroom.”

You nod as you stand; your knees feel like jelly from how you were kneeling on the floor. When you find yourself in the bathroom, reality strikes. You sit on the toilet lid with only your upper half still clothed, and your cloak hanging around you. 

Maybe you need to start thinking before you act when it comes to these two. When you emerge from the bathroom, you find your now clean pants folded neatly by the door. You put them on quickly and walk out to the main room. The lights are off, and the only source of light is from the moon spilling through the window; any evidence of your activities has been erased. You catch a glimpse of Olruggio leaving as you come into view of the door. There's a question you have to ask, for your peace of mind, and to know whether you should leave and never come back or stay. You open your mouth, directing your words at Qifrey’s figure, which has been standing by the door,

“You love him,”

“I do.” The white-haired man turns to you. You feel your voice catch before you squeak out,

“Is there room for me?”

“There's always been room, always has, always will, after all, we love you, not just me, Olly too.” His eye finds your own, the confession hits hard, and a sense of relief and embarrassment fills you.

“What are we?”

“Whatever you want us to be.” You nod at his response. Maybe being unlabeled for now would help you clear your mind.

“What makes you so sure Olly loves me? And where did you put my underwear?” You’re not sure if Qifrey had misplaced it, but the lack of an undergarment is uncomfortable. How was Qifrey so sure of Olly’s feelings, too?

“What do you think he came into?” Qifrey gives you a smug smirk, and the realization hits.

You become hyper aware of the uncomfortable wet feeling between your legs, and it doesn’t help that the reason for that is lying asleep within arm's reach. You take a second to assess your surroundings. You’re a light sleeper, so relocation meant you were really tired, or the person who did the relocating was someone you knew well. You slowly sit up, making sure not to rock the hammock, Olruggio, and you are on. Shimmying your way down, you find your cloak tossed on the side of the bed, and you quickly fasten it around you. You make your way to the door, the glowing path lighting up beneath you. You see Qifrey lying on a couch in the corner, his face a little scrunched, like the light is bothering him. So you scurry out to not bother him. 

The corridors are quiet and dark; it can’t be any later than 3 am and no earlier than 1 am. Your footsteps make no noise as you walk down the corridor. There's no way you can sleep after that dream; you find yourself in the living room next to the hearth. You draw a simple fire spell and sit down on the floor in front of it. There's something about being the only one awake at night that seems strangely comforting, although it does get lonely when you are truly alone. A full atelier makes it feel more comforting. You pull out a stack of papers from the bag you have secured to your waist at almost all times. You need to take your mind off that dream you had; even thinking about it makes heat rush to your cheeks. You start drawing spells you can use when you’re on the road again. The road sounds too cold compared to the warmth here, but you have a mission to do.

“What's got you awake again?”

The voice makes you jump; your mind was so focused on your intrusive thoughts that you didn't even process that you heard footsteps right next to you. Maybe you’re getting worn out. You look up to your left, and standing there is Qifrey; he looks tired but still has that smile on his face. You don’t meet his eyes.

“An-” you struggle to find the words, you can’t just say you had a wet dream about your best friend, “unpleasant dream, you could say.” You turn back towards your spell and see that you messed up a symbol. Clicking your tongue, you throw it into the fire in front of you. He gives you a small smile and nods,

“Ah, I see, would you care for company?”

You pause before saying, “I won’t mind.”

He plops down next to you, robes flowing. He peeks over your shoulder and sees what you’re doing. He starts slowly organizing spells for you, sorted by element. You have always been neat about your spells since you once set a tree in the grand hall on fire when you wanted to get a few leaves from it. You got in so much trouble that time and vowed never to make that same mistake again. Maybe it's because of the dream, or the fact that you and the Qifrey are sitting quietly next to each other, your mind keeps wandering, and a good chunk of spells have found their home in the fire because you keep messing up.

Qifrey hands you the small pile of spells back to you,

“Thanks,” you murmur, folding them and placing them into your bag. You curl up and stare at the fire. There isn’t really a difference between magic fire and natural fire, but you can't help but stare at a natural one if you ever pass by one.

“Ghostie,” Qifrey breaks the silence first,

“You’re still calling me that?” You scoff at him.

“Olly and I do when we talk about you.”

You roll your eyes, it's a trait of yours, you walk silently, talk quietly, and you often scare people when you walk up behind them without making any noise. This trait evolved into being able to disappear into crowds, walking into rooms you don't belong in, a critical trait for your goals. The nickname that Olruggio once called you when you scared him so badly that he dropped a magic pot has always stuck, but you didn’t think it’d stick even now, almost 2 decades later.

“What's there to talk about?” you say under your breath, and you lean more into yourself. You hear shuffling on your left, and you turn your head to see Qifrey closer than he was earlier. When you raised your head to ask what he meant, he kissed you.

It was unexpected, but not unwelcome, your body tensed before relaxing into the kiss, you closed your eyes and focused on how he felt against you. His lips were soft and wet, like he had wet them right before kissing you, like he was nervous about it. His hands ran gently up and down your shoulders and arms, careful of your still-healing wound. His right hand catches on the bandage, and he leans away from the kiss.

“Your bandage is undone,” he whispers before getting up to grab the tray of medical supplies. You look down, and it indeed is. He returns and begins to unwrap the current bandages. Looking closely at your arm, he notes,

“It's scarring already,” you quip back with, “Won’t be my first, I’ll add it to my collection.”

He looks almost sad before saying, “You shouldn’t be proud of all of them,” realizing what he meant, you quieted down, letting him work. 

“How much longer until I’m healed?” you ask, when he ties a pretty knot on the new bandages, changing the tension in the air.

“Do you plan on leaving soon after?” Ah, a different tension is here.

“I’m not sure, but probably,” you say sheepishly. How else could you say that you didn’t feel like you belonged here, in an already full atelier?

“The girls like having you around; they’ll be sad to see you go.”

“It's not like I'm being sent to be executed, I’ll be back,” you pause cause you know there's a chance, “probably.”

“You might die, Agott was scared when you collapsed this time,” Qifrey responds quietly. You try to comfort him with, “ She’ll be fine, you’ll all be fine, it's not like I was around much before,” you try to smile, but falter when you see the expression he has. His eyes are looking down, but you can see the pain behind them, the tears that won't form, no matter how sad you are. He looks up at you, and you quickly look the other direction,

“You’re so reckless, you’ll be killed at this rate.”

Turning back to the fire, you say, “So be it, if I get killed, I wasn’t going to complete my goal in the first place.”

“Your parents didn't beg you to avenge them before they were killed; they wanted you to live.” THAT hit a nerve; you felt yourself grow angry, and the next few words came out louder and sharper than you wanted.

“You don’t know anything about them, you can't say that,... I don’t even remember them; I lost them too young. I was forced to forget as time made me grow up. What makes you think you have the right?”  You placed a heavy emphasis on “you.” You feel anger boiling as you take a deep breath to ground yourself.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought them up; it was callous of me.” Qifrey carefully apologizes after seeing how upset you became.

You stand up, “I’ll get back to bed, thanks for keeping me company,” 

“Of course, rest well (Y/N).”

“You as well.” You turn and go back to your room, silently fuming. You toss your cloak over a chair in your room, you lie down on your bed, it feels cold, and you feel lonely even surrounded by those closest to you. You don’t often fight with Qifrey and Olruggio, but sometimes it still happens. Atleast sleep takes you quickly, but another “unpleasant” dream plays.

After a fight with Olruggio, you find yourself in the forest alone, with a bottle of hard liquor and a magic fire. It was a stupid fight, too, over the 5th test; he and Qifrey still thought you were too young to take it, you were only 2 years younger than them. Others have called you talented and bright, a true talent among this generation, but those two seem not to care; you had passed the 4th test alongside them, too. It's not that you were incapable, just that they think you’re too young or the fact that you're also born female. 

You take another swig from the bottle; you’ve drunk far past your limit, but you didn't care. The argument was so heated that you got into a magic fight with them. To be fair, you did start the fight by casting an offensive spell at them first, but you didn’t really want to fight; you wanted to show them that you weren’t the little girl they grew up with. Now you feel like you’ve lost your 2 closest friends; you have other friends, but those 2 are the ones you trusted the most. You feel tears forming. They always called you a big crybaby, but if they aren’t in your life anymore, they can’t call you that. That thought sends you over the edge, and you burst into quiet tears. Maybe if you had been more mature, they would have thought of you differently. You take a small mouthful of the alcohol and swallow. It burns, it burns a lot, but it makes you feel warm against the cold night. You wrap your cloak around you and bury your head into it. Maybe it's because you’re far past your limit, the fact that your head is buried underneath your cloak, or both, but you don’t hear the footsteps approach you. 

You only notice something amiss when a warm hand covers your left shoulder; you nearly jump out of your skin. You realize this mysterious person kneeling next to you is Qifrey, the friend that you thought you lost. You proceed to burst into more tears, using his cloak as a tissue for your tears,

“Hey-” he starts, but you hug him first, with an apology spilling from your mouth. It's the sudden closeness or the alcohol in your breath and hand that Qifrey realizes you’ve been drinking. 

“Damn, how much did you drink?” Qifrey is one who rarely curses or uses slang; the word “damn” coming out of his mouth surprises you, but you answer his question.

“It was full earlier,” you hold out the half-empty bottle for him to see, “but imma drink more, it makes me feel warm.” You feel the bottle get snatched out of your hand, but before you can protest, you realize that Qifrey is drinking the remaining half of it.

“Hey, that's really strong,” you tried to warn him before, but too late, and he started coughing because of the burn.

“You should drink water,” he manages to squeeze out before coughing more. He sits next to you. He hands you his flask, you take it and drink from it. The water feels cool against your throat, but your whole body still feels warm. Handing the flask back, you rest your head on his shoulder,

“I’m sorry for fighting with you and Olly.” He sighs.

“We’re just looking out for you. The 5th test is a bad idea for you,” Qifrey says. You look at him and realize his face is getting a little flushed, probably from the alcohol; he was a heavier weight than you and Olly, and the alcohol all at once must’ve been getting to him. 

“It's just because you think I'm a little girl,” you cry, tears threatening to spill again. Qifrey looks slightly alarmed at the sight. He grabs his handkerchief and wipes your tears himself, like a little kid. 

“No its because if you pass, we know you’ll run off and-” you interrupt him, “You still treat me like a child even now! I’m only 2 years younger, not 20.” You pout and lift your head, staring directly at him, “You still think that I'm this young kid that needs to be protected.”

Qifrey cups your face in his hands, holding your face still so you stop moving around so much.

“I don’t think that you’re like a young kid, I think that you are a full-grown, beautiful woman,”  his finger runs across your bottom lip at “beautiful woman.”

“Then prove it!”

That's how you found yourself kissing one of your best friends.

The kiss is not soft or gentle; it's aggressive. Qifrey has his hand in your hair, grabbing a handful of hair and forcing your face upwards towards him. His eyes, or well, his eye is darker than it usually is; the striking blue has darkened into a darker blue, much more sensual. He has you pinned against a tree, standing, hands roaming your body. He unbuttons your pants, shoving them down alongside your wet panties, leaving you exposed in the cold air. You almost want to shiver, 

He runs a finger down, and through your folds, he holds it up for you to see,

“My, someone’s excited,” his voice comes out thick next to your ear. He nips at it before dropping down to his knees.

You should’ve known, you really should’ve known, of course, Qifrey, a witch, would be good with his hands; his fingers are long, reaching places you never could when alone at night. He pumps a finger in and out, thumb rubbing small circles over your clit, and he dips his head down, kissing it. You nearly fall, catching yourself on the tree. Qifrey supports you with his free arm, his eye never breaking contact with yours. The eye contact is almost enough to make you cum on the spot, but his finger and mouth working on you makes it so much more overstimulating. You bite down on the back of your hand, imagine if anyone heard you, you didn’t want to think about it.

“So wet, think you can take another finger?” His voice comes out slightly muffled, as his mouth is still working on you. You don’t know, your head is starting to spin from how much and how fast you’re breathing, and your knees give out suddenly. Qifrey catches you with his free arm, and he leans farther down to not break contact between his mouth and you. Your back is now leaning against the tree, while Qifrey is feasting on you between your legs, his tongue circles and swipes at your clit before dipping back into you for more of your arousal. 

You feel the pressure building up, you want to enjoy this for a little longer, but the lewdness is a bit too much.

“Qifrey, I’m,” your voice cracks as you feel yourself on the edge of an orgasm, “gonna cum.” Qifrey’s eye contact hasn’t broken once throughout this; he keeps looking straight at you, almost through you, like he knows all the dirty thoughts you’ve had about him. You break eye contact first as you seize against his mouth, your eyes squeeze shut as your lids forcefully close from the orgasm. It burns you from the inside, the sensation traveling throughout your body, you feel it in your toes and finger tips. Hands flying to Qifrey’s head, you try to push him away, but he doesn’t stop eating. He finally stops when you start shaking in his grasp, kissing your inner thigh, and he straightens up. 

“Did I prove myself?”

He looks smug; you almost want to slap the smugness out of him, almost. You shakenly nod, he helps you stand up, your legs feel like jelly, not very secure, he bends down and pulls your panties and underwear back up, neatly buttoning them shut. Qifrey starts to clean up around you. He kills the fire spell that witnessed everything. He pauses before turning to you,

“I’ll be right back. I need the restroom.”

You nod as you find a stump to sit on. Your legs feel weak, but a little bit better. When Qifrey returns, you’ve dozed off, alcohol makes you sleepy, it's a great sedative for you if only you didn’t sleep with someone every time you drank. You feel Qifrey lift you and fly back to the great hall.

It’s been atleast 2 weeks since you fought with Qifrey, you’ve subjected him to the cold shoulder, avoiding him, and traveling out to the market with Olruggio when he is free. You’re still a little snippy at him, but you're mostly avoiding him because of the kiss and the dream. Atleast your shoulder is all healed! You can resume living on the road in a few days, but the biggest lead you have right now is in the atelier. Atleast Coco is progressing well, she’s learned a lot for what she's been through.

You find yourself sitting across from a drunk Olruggio; it's late at night, and the girls have long gone to bed. You’ve been venting to him about why you and Qifrey are not speaking, except for the dream and kiss. Olruggio is nodding at most things you say, but is quiet for the most part.

“Yknow, let's fuck him up,” he says, his words slurred. You don’t really know what he means, but Olruggio is already up and walking to Qifrey’s room before you can stop him, and you follow, trying to get Olruggio to sit down again. You grab his sleeve in front of Qifrey’s door and try to pull him away, but the door opens, and there stands Qifrey. Olruggio drags you in when you try to turn and leave,

“I thought we’re fucking him up?”