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PRESENTING ANOTHER BIGGUSCHEESIUS PRODUCTION: Corbeau x Fem!Reader x Philippe (NSFW) and let me tell you WHY

Corbeau flirts with the MC regardless of which character model you pick, and to me that effectively makes him pan or something of the sort. Philippe is also quite fond of his boss, especially his praise; we all saw that bit in the DLC. ThereFORE☝️🤨 I think it’s fair to hypothesize that they’ve messed around. And now Corbeau’s super strong and attractive hookup (you) wants to try something new.

As per usual, she/her pronouns are used for the main character, but no name, and very little body description outside of the bitties.

This is 18+, minors DNI. Full content warning below the break ❤️

CW: threesome, unprotected sex, creampie, oral sex, double penetration, anal sex, voyeurism, Eiffel Tower, jealous Corbeau

I saw you in the tags, specific blogger, referring to it as a Prism Tower… and I think that’s hilarious

——————

You’re wrapped up with Corbeau in his bed, blissful in the remainder of your afterglow. Something had been bouncing around inside you, a thought—a rather dirty thought at that—had been coming to mind. Corbeau alone was plenty for you; he was insatiable with a drive to rival yours. But, you’d seen the glances in his office, heard little stories at parties; spotted the obvious admiration present between Corbeau and his bodyguard. He sure had a body to guard with, and his steely exterior ruffled your feathers in a similar way that Corbeau did. Philippe had been nothing but polite and professional with you, but you wondered if he’d ever seen your gaze pause over his heavy frame. The boss is a little guy with a big dick, which is wonderful, but what could his humble right-hand man be packing?

“What are you thinking about?” A smooth voice pulls you from your thoughts. You’ve been caught, somehow, cheeks flushing even though Corbeau couldn’t read your mind. He raises an eyebrow at your blush, breaking into a smirk. “Yeah?” Corbeau starts to laugh and you cover your face with your hands, hating the way it heats further beneath your palms. His arm is around your waist, pulling you closer until his nose is brushing the shell of your ear. “What is it, darling? Something you’d like to try?” You spread your fingers to peek at him, eyes wide and terrified. Did he know? Did he guess? His face softens at your genuine embarrassment. “Aww, it’s okay, you can tell me. I love trying new things.” You take a deep breath and slide your hands down your face, reluctantly keeping his gaze. “Pretty thing.” Corbeau says under his breath.

“So-“ you don’t even know where to begin. He looks at you expectantly, but patient. “So… first, totally unrelated question. Have you and Philippe ever… done anything?” Silence follows, Corbeau’s face unreadable. The two of you weren’t exclusive, but neither of you were seeing anyone else.

“You want to have a threesome?” His expression is still blank, and you look up at him stunned, eyes shy and glittering. “You should see the look on your face right now.” Corbeau smiles, devious and knowing. “He’s big, you know.” Corbeau catches the way your pupils dilate, he hadn’t expected something like this from you.

“I just- I thought it sounded hot.”

“It is hot. Philippe and I haven’t done anything since the Syndicate’s last New Year’s party. Want me to ask?” His last sentence is teasing, but he means it.

“No, don’t ask! That’s so embarrassing! I don’t want him to think I’m- I don’t know, a slut or something.” When you meet Corbeau’s eyes again, they’re lustful, telling you maybe you are, and he loves it.

“I really don’t know if I can do that, boss.” Philippe’s voice is low, face red with embarrassment. Corbeau, on the other hand, has a wide smile, staring at him intently.

“She’s incredible, trust me!” He looks far too excited, raising his hands into the air.

“Yeah, okay, I believe you.” Philippe turns his reddening face away from Corbeau. He hasn’t won over the steely man just yet. “I just don’t think she’d be interested-“

“It was her idea.” Everything in the room freezes, Philippe’s eyes open wide, darting to Corbeau. “Yeah,” the smaller man chuckles, “she wants it.”

“Wow, you really know how to spot freaks, don’t you.” Philippe’s humor is confirmation, and Corbeau leaps from his chair.

“Yes! Yes, I do!” Corbeau’s hands grip Philippe’s shoulders, attempting to shake him. “Let’s take her to dinner first. She’s fun to tease; it’ll be a pleasant meal. Then, we can use her however we want.” Philipe’s eyes are unchanging as Corbeau continues his pitch. “She’s very obedient.”

You’re on the roof of Hotel Z when your rotom phone buzzes in your pocket. Begrudgingly, you let the device disrupt your beautiful view of the city.

Corbeau: We’re getting dinner tonight at 7pm. There will be a vehicle waiting to pick you up outside of Hotel Z.

You: you have to ask before you just plan stuff

Corbeau: Are you busy?

You: …

You: no

Corbeau: That’s what I thought. Come prepared for a long night.

You: ?

Of course he doesn’t respond now, he’d made his point and that was that. Corbeau was usually pretty direct with his motivations, but his boldness still sparked a fire inside you.

You’d forgotten almost entirely about the pillow-talk conversation you’d had during your last hookup. That is, until a familiar sleek, black vehicle pulls up to the curb. You were outside waiting, dolled up with an overnight bag. The tinted windows conceal the driver, but you knew who it was. Corbeau steps out of the vehicle, holding the door open for you. When you walk towards him, he takes your hand, intertwining your fingers, and pulls you close.

“Hello, darling. Are you ready for dinner?” He never failed to make you smile, and you offer him a chaste kiss before crawling into the vehicle. Philippe was driving, as you’d suspected; you could see some of his suit and the back of his distinct mohawk. You’d said hello to him every time he’d picked you up, it would be weird to not do so now. You barely hear your own greeting, but see Philippe’s steely eyes meet yours in the mirror. He smiles and says hello, but there’s a look of recognition in his features. Corbeau climbs into the vehicle after you, settling in the spot next to you. This time, however, he doesn’t close the privacy window, keeping the three of you oddly connected. You swallow hard, wondering if Corbeau had actually done something so terrifyingly bold as to ask his bodyguard for a threesome.

The drive was smooth, Corbeau and Philippe carrying on an easy conversation as they always do. You didn’t have much to add, content to listen, but there was something in the air. Something that lingered as the car parked, shut off, and unlocked. Corbeau shifts quickly to open the door, climbing out and holding it open for you. As you step out onto the sidewalk, you recognize a familiar façade: a rooftop restaurant Corbeau had taken you to once before. It’s lovely, and the entrée you’d had last time was wonderful.

Corbeau’s leading you to the holovator, hand tenderly wrapped around yours. When you make your way onto the platform, he pulls you to his side by your waist, effectively making room for Philippe. The larger man moves beside you, ever so slightly brushing your shoulder. For the first time, you sense two different colognes between them. It’s an intoxicating combination that has your heart beating hard all the way to the table. Corbeau follows the waiter, selecting a nice booth. He slides onto one bench, and you take the other. Corbeau’s eyes are on the larger man, motioning him to sit. You were across from both of them now, feeling very exposed under the weight of their stares. Corbeau is trying very poorly to hide a smile. Though you were embarrassed by the thought of him asking, Philippe’s presence across the table gave you his answer. Realizing he’d said yes was building an excitement to override the embarrassment.

To your own surprise, you were able to hold a steady conversation during dinner, responding smoothly to jokes and subtle flirting. The entrée you’d gotten was delightful, filling but light, a conscious decision with the rest of your night in mind. While the three of you prepared to leave, Corbeau hunched over the table, double checking the tip and total amount. A large, warm hand presses against the small of your back, and you look up and over your shoulder at Philippe. He’s smiling gently, waiting to guide you back to the holovator. His touch is respectful, warming a significant portion of your lower back. Corbeau turns around to see you smiling up at his bodyguard, his hand steady and protective. Something feels different, and your gaze flicks to Corbeau. His golden eyes are wide, brows raised, as if he’d forgotten about his own plan. Philippe’s hand gently shifts to your hip, what was protective had become possessive. The warmth on your hip and the fire in Corbeau’s eyes filled you with excitement, bubbling up inside you and threatening to escape as giggles. You fight a smile as Corbeau walks towards you, eyes on you like prey. Soon after, Philippe turns towards the holovator, maintaining his grip on your waist. As if he was your date, not Corbeau: teasing the boss, just like you. You wondered if he’d punish you for both of them.

The second car ride was tense, Corbeau had lost the opportunity to open the car door for you. He would have to get used to sharing you, but for now, his arm snaked tightly around your waist, walking you to his front door. A new wave of excitement rolls over you, hearing another car door shut, the sound of Philippe following you to Corbeau’s place.

It’s hard to tell what Corbeau has planned; he seemed almost infinitely patient while taking off his jacket and shoes, sharing a simple conversation with Philippe. His golden eyes meet yours, heart fluttering at the intensity. Your body clenches when he walks towards you.

The next moments are almost in slow motion: Corbeau’s hands around your waist, leading you towards his bedroom, kissing you sweetly, roughly grabbing your ass while you taste Philippe’s mouth; gently undressing you. Now you’re in bed, next to the larger man, and Corbeau is crawling over you. Your body is on fire, exacerbated by the two other bodies near you. Alongside your overwhelming desire is the rich feeling of being wanted, something you deeply enjoyed.

You found yourself face-to-face with Philippe’s cock, intimidated by how right Corbeau had been. He was big, but probably not unmanageable. Probably. Corbeau laid between your legs, eating you out like dinner had never happened. You wrapped a hand around Philippe, stroking gently. His expression is gentle, patient; wanting. You took your pleasure out on him, dipping to take the head into your mouth. He sighs, barely heard over the sounds of Corbeau sucking on your clit. When his mouth left you wet and cold, you sat up, letting Corbeau move your hips as he saw fit. It wasn’t long before he was pushing inside you, hands gripping your waist tightly.

The force of Corbeau fucking you was moving your entire body, pulling your mouth back and forth on Philippe’s cock. Most of him is being stroked by your hand, jaw aching but unwilling to give up. Corbeau had been gentle at first, teasing you by moving slowly until you begged him to speed up. He was happy to provide, loving the way you cried out for him. You were so good for him, taking him so well. Now, Corbeau’s nails dig into your waist, and he groans, a new warmth spreading inside you. He rides out his orgasm, thrusting into you lazily before pulling out, giving your ass a little pat. As Corbeau stands from the bed, you make eye contact with Philippe. You’d suck him off as long as he liked, but a new spot just opened up. Philippe picks you up and spins you around, and you let yourself fall into the blankets, ass up for him. His tip presses against your entrance, large hands sliding down your sides, and you feel a new burn inside you. He’s bigger than Corbeau, filling you up more than you thought possible. Philippe’s hands slide along your waist gently before settling on your hips.

“Are you alright?” You’d never hear his rough voice the same way again. You nod aggressively, pushing back against him. He’s conscious of his size, thrusting into you until there’s just a little resistance. His pace is slow, emphasizing the drag inside you and easily grazing your G-spot. You were grateful he didn’t target your cervix like Corbeau does, rewarding him with frequent moans. You couldn’t help it, truthfully, your body was so hot, mind totally fogged over from pleasure.

“You.” A hand is roughly grabbing a fistful of your hair, yanking your head up. “Are having too much fun.” Corbeau’s eyes are deadly, you were moaning too loudly without him. Philippe’s movements are consistent, and you’re staring Corbeau in the eyes while his bodyguard fucks you. There are wet noises coming from between your bodies, heard amongst your stuttering moans. He watches you like this for a moment, a wicked smile on his face. Corbeau kneels on the bed, situating his hips in front of you. His grip on your hair stays tight, and your tongue lolls out at the sight of his hard cock. It was his idea, face fucking you, no matter how grateful you looked when he thrusted into your mouth. Tears welled up in your eyes as he strained your throat, pulling your hair.

“Hey, boss.” Philippe’s voice is low and rich with lust. “Let’s get her between us, like we talked about.” They what? Corbeau hums and pulls from your mouth, and you glare up at him.

“You talked about it!?” Your disdain is genuine, feeling shame at the thought of them discussing you in his office like dinner. Corbeau laughs, and you maintain your glare while Philippe pulls out and sits you up.

“Of course we did, darling. I told you I was going to ask.” His hands reach to cup your cheeks. “Are you really that upset about it? We know what we want to do to you.” His words excite you even further, realizing how hot it would’ve been to hear that discussion. Corbeau kisses you gently, then pulls away, letting his hands fall from your face. “Spin around, sweetheart.” You do as you’re told, fumbling to do a 180 between the two men. Your gaze meets Philippe’s, and the look in his eyes has you giggling with excitement. His large hands press against your sides, lifting you to straddle him. You lean forward against him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He’s warm and sturdy, and you feel the head of his cock graze your entrance again. You allow yourself to drop onto it, moaning at how far it stretched you. There’s another set of hands above Philippe’s, and Corbeau’s chest brushes your back. There’s a pause as you rest your head on Philippe’s shoulder, breathing in his distinct, masculine cologne. Then, Corbeau’s tip is pressing against you, attempting to slide in next to Philippe. The burn is addicting, stretching you farther than before. Your nails dig into Philippe’s back, crying out when Corbeau pushes in deeper. Both sets of hands hold you tightly as Corbeau rocks to seat himself inside you alongside the larger man. Once he’s settled, he stills his hips and starts leaving soft kisses on your neck.

“Fuck- wait, just a moment.” Both men hum at your words, vibrating through your chest and back. You squeeze lightly, testing how softened you were around this new, overwhelming presence inside you. Corbeau kisses your neck, arms holding you tight until your body relaxes. It’s your turn to hum, having adjusted well enough, and you lift your head to meet Philippe’s gaze. You kiss him softly, feeling Corbeau’s fingertips dig into your sides. This motivates you to deepen the kiss, tilting your head and leaning into Philippe. His arms tighten around you, covering a wide portion of your lower back, and you feel him twitch inside you. Corbeau must feel it too, because he quickly leans forward and bites your shoulder. Hard. You gasp and pull back, eyes darting back and forth from Philippe’s lips to his steely eyes. “Okay… okay, I’m ready.” The two men begin moving slowly, and you gasp, head falling forward again. Their paces are slightly different, cocks sliding past each other inside you. The noises leaving you are pornographic, fueled by the two bodies grinding against you. You feel filthy in the best way possible, attention focused on the feeling of them wearing you out. Corbeau’s hand covers the lower half of your face, thumb slipping into your mouth. You suck on it, biting down just above the first joint. Corbeau groans, thrusting up into you hard. He lets you suck on his thumb for a little while before before pulling out. You whine at his absence, unsure of his plan until his wet thumb leaves your mouth and presses against your asshole. He traces slow circles, pushing in ever so slightly. Corbeau loosens you up this way, while Philippe fucks you slowly. His thumb leaves your asshole, quickly being replaced by the head of his cock. Corbeau’s insertion is patient, listening to your body carefully. The stretch burns here as well, but the angle is better, and your vagina is grateful for the switch. He fully seats himself this way, breath ghosting your ear.

“How do you feel, darling?” In response, you clench as hard as you can, effectively squeezing them both. He growls, but doesn’t give up. “You feel good?” You nod; a moan as extra confirmation. “Yeah? Tell me how good.”

“S-so good. So big.” Your face burns, praise feeling vulnerable.

“You’re fully drunk off of our cocks, aren’t you?” His voice is smooth, teasing you and heating your body.

“Yes, sir.” Corbeau twitches inside you.

“Fuck, that’s nice. Such a good whore.” His mouth falls to your neck, leaving wet kisses and soft bites. For a moment, Corbeau’s mouth on your neck is all that can be heard.

“Do you normally talk to her like that?” Philippe’s deep voice catches your attention, and you can’t help but giggle at his question.

“What?” Corbeau’s confusion makes you laugh even harder, and he sounds as if he’ll laugh too. “Stop laughing, I can feel it.” Despite your embarrassment, that’s the funniest and potentially most awkward thing he’s ever said. Your laugh is mixed with a loud complaint, and you swing an arm behind you, attempting to hit Corbeau in protest. He leans forward before scooting his knees in tandem, squishing you tightly between them. Your laugh is cut short, and you bite your lip at the feeling of them fully enveloping your body. Their colognes are intoxicating, each a fresh reminder of their presence. Not just a couple of guys, but Corbeau and Philippe, the two strongest—and highest ranking—individuals in the Rust Syndicate. “To answer your question, Philippe, she likes it.” The larger man hums in response, hands stable on your sides.

“Do you like it?” Philippe’s voice rumbles through your chest, words right next to your ear. You move your head to look at him; his expression is kind and patient.

“I do, thank you.” You admire his steely eyes for a moment. “You’re so sweet.” He smiles softly, and Corbeau whines, teeth sinking into your neck. You roll your hips between them, shifting them both inside you. Corbeau huffs, starting his own, slow pace. Philippe moves with you, adapting to the way Corbeau’s body pushed yours into his. You moan openly, nothing existed outside of your senses. The smaller man is saying filthy things in your ear, thrusting into you harsher than before; he’s more into this than you were expecting. The three of you move with increasing desperation, Corbeau barely holding back his urge to destroy your asshole. His teeth sink into your shoulder again, growling as he rakes his nails along your hips. Philippe shifts, hiking you up and shifting your angle to give your clit more friction. He moves like this, eyes searching your face for signs of pleasure. You feel it creeping up quickly, the newfound angle stimulating your clit while their cocks stimulate everything else. A high, breathy noise leaves you, and you cling to Philippe.

“That’s- ah- that’s good.” You hum, rolling your hips with him. Corbeau’s forced to match your pace as your orgasm approaches. The movement is perfect, rubbing and sliding just right. Your hips buck against Philippe, his hands aiding your motions. “Oh, fuck… fuck, I-“ The tension in your abdomen is overwhelming, a sweetness growing rapidly where your bodies met. You come hard, desperately clenching around their cocks, but you can’t, already stretched so tight that your pulses are forced to become intense waves of pleasure. The cries leaving you are loud and breathy, though you hardly hear them. Corbeau does, and he loves them, fucking into you hard as you ride out your orgasm. He swells from arousal, stretching you just a bit further, grunts and moans blessing your ears. He thrusts into you harder, and his hips stutter as he comes inside you. You feel his face press into your shoulder, body still moving until his cock begins to soften. Philippe is rock-hard inside you, obviously growing close himself. His pace quickens now that it’s his turn, and you let out frequent whiny moans.

“Where should I-?” Philippe sounds strained, still wanting to be considerate.

“Inside, please.” It’s almost embarrassing, how weak and desperate you sound. Philippe looks as if he wants to double check, but he’s too late. You clamp down hard around him as he comes, painting your walls with something other than Corbeau.

After he pulls out, Philippe holds you tighter, moving his knees to the edge of the bed, step-by-step. He stands with you in his arms, one dipping to support you by your bottom. Your arms wrap tightly around his shoulders, allowing him to carry you to the bathroom. Corbeau blows you a kiss on the way out. Once you’re in the bathroom, Philippe lets you stand on your own, supporting you until you’re certain you’re stable. He kisses your forehead gently, then steps back. You pull him into a proper kiss, his hands warming your waist again. One hand leaves your side, and you hear the bathroom door shut. Philippe pulls away from the kiss, then swiftly lifts you onto the bathroom counter. His mouth is back on yours, pulling your body tight against his. Your legs are around his waist, allowing his tongue to explore your mouth. Despite the soreness between your legs, you can’t help rolling your hips against him, feeling him harden. You’re both naked, and his cock is brushing very close to where it could slip in. You reach down and line him up with your entrance, where he immediately slips in a couple inches. Your eyes meet his, lustful.

“Oops.” One silly word from you, and he’s bottoming out inside you. Philippe’s still almost too big, but he knows what he’s doing. It’s quick, leaving you moaning and panting on the soiled countertop. Once you’re done, he helps you off the counter and politely dismisses himself. You can barely keep your eyes open, going through the motions of cleaning yourself and the countertop, before washing your hands and drying them off. When you stumble back into Corbeau’s bedroom, you see the two men in his large bed, an alluring space between them just for you. You crawl over Corbeau, who has that fond look in his eyes, and settle between them. His bed is softer tonight.

The sunlight casted orange rays through the curtains of Corbeau’s bedroom. He woke first, taking a deep breath and stretching. He rubbed his eyes and made sense of his surroundings. His bed had plenty of company, Philippe fast asleep, and you, curled up with your back against him. You’re facing Corbeau, one arm outstretched, hand resting on his chest. As gently as possible, he takes your hand and sets it next to you on the bed. He’s momentarily entranced by your peaceful appearance, eyes fluttering at the warmth in his heart.

“So beautiful.” He whispers to himself, before getting up, gathering his clothes, and quietly padding out of the room. Corbeau dresses in the bathroom before silent footsteps bring him to the kitchen. He slides open the curtain covering the kitchen window, allowing the morning rays to light the room. The cabinet above the sink held a wide array of coffee grounds, everything from mild roasts to breakfast blends to the bitterest shit on the market. He enjoyed them all, picking a full-bodied light roast; something to surely please his company. Corbeau loads his coffee maker—though capable of producing many drinks, he usually reserved it for black coffee and espresso—and starts it, listening to the sound of water heating. When you were up, he would ask how you liked your coffee. Philippe’s order, he already knew, depended on the quality of the coffee. His sensitive palate wasn’t fond of the overly acidic dark roasts, but would drink a fine breakfast blend without cream or sugar. Grounds of this quality surely warranted a plain, black cup. Corbeau hums to himself, checking the contents of his fridge. He’d take you to breakfast if he wasn’t satisfied with his own pantry. As he shuts the fridge, he hears faint noises from the other side of his house, likely emanating from the bedroom. Pleased at the thought of early birds joining him for a quiet morning, Corbeau pads back to his bedroom. The noises grow louder as he approaches… it was you, moaning. He steps into the room, eyes wide at what he sees. You’re riding Philippe in Corbeau’s bed, enjoying yourself far too much to notice the man in the doorway. Corbeau had come at the right time, because so were you, giving him a full view of your arching back, delicious noises filling the air. He watches greedily as you keep riding Philippe’s cock, continuing to pleasure yourself. Corbeau is quickly growing hard in his boxers. It sounds like you’re coming again, and he sees Philippe’s face: brows furrowed, pupils blown; mouth open. He looks as if he wants to say something, but your eyes are squeezed closed, still seeking pleasure, and soon he’s coming inside you. Your motions slow, eventually stopping and breathing heavily above him. His eyes flick to the doorway, and you look over your shoulder, seeing a very hard—but perhaps not very happy—Corbeau.

“Good morning.” His voice is dangerous; plotting something. The two of you share lustful greetings, and you pull yourself off of Philippe’s cock, wobbling as you make for the bathroom. Corbeau’s arms are crossed as you approach him, eyes not leaving yours. Just when you’re about to pass him in the doorway, you lean in and give him a long, gentle kiss on the lips. He kisses back, but otherwise stays completely still. As you’re shutting the bathroom door, you hear Corbeau’s voice again. “I’m making coffee, I want you to try it black first, then you can add cream if you like. I think you’ll enjoy it.”

There’s motion outside the bathroom door as you wash your hands, fading as you dry them off. When you open the bathroom door, Corbeau is standing just on the other side with his arms still crossed.

“Hi.” You smile sweetly at him, acting as if you hadn’t just fucked his bodyguard in his bed, without him. “You made coffee? Can I have some?”

“Get back in that fucking bedroom.” Corbeau’s voice is low and aggressive, arms unfolding for one to point towards your destination. You bite your lip and move down the hallway, quickly at first to get your ass out of Corbeau’s slapping range. You pause in his room, about to turn around and face him. He’s right behind you though, hands on your waist, pushing you towards his bed. You’re falling backwards, Corbeau crawling on top of you and shoving his thigh between your legs. He lowers to his elbows in front of you, golden eyes molten and hungry.

“You like his cock, huh? Enough to fuck him when you think I can’t hear? I can make you feel better than that.” Corbeau’s mouth is on your neck, biting and sucking hard everywhere he can reach. “How desperate are you? Coming for him before I can even make a pot of coffee.” You giggle, toying with the hem of his boxers, about to properly earn your punishment.

“He feels good.” You purr, looking Corbeau in the eyes. “I got off twice up there.” He scoffs, unimpressed but burning with jealousy. Corbeau stands, pulling off his boxers and crawling back over you. His hands grip your thighs and lift them over yours. With little warning, he’s forcing himself inside you. Your punishment was no foreplay—not that you needed any after getting stretched out by Philippe—and you whine. Immediately his pace is harsh, possessive; fucking you into the mattress. Once his anger wears off, he switches to slower, intentional strokes. Corbeau’s eyes are intense on you, relishing at how you have to look away, face flushing. He’s working you perfectly, reminding you how familiar he is with your body. He’s centered entirely on your pleasure, proving that he can make you feel better than Philippe. That his cock is better; that he’s better. Your body is heating quickly, reacting strongly to his ministrations. He’s easily pulling moans from you, smiling wider the more frequent they become.

“Yeah, that’s it. Who do you belong to?” He sounds far too proud of himself.

“You.” Your voice is strained, nearing the cusp of release. He hums and rewards you by bringing you closer.

“Good girl. Say my name.” You’re preoccupied, coming hard around him, hands pressing against his chest when it fades, but he doesn’t stop. “Say my name.” You moan loudly, feeling that sweetness persist inside you.

“Ngh- Corbeau.” You’re quiet, suddenly shy about his company.

“Louder.” His hips are still rocking against you, legs shaking as you come again. You throw your head back, releasing short, high-pitched whines. He doesn’t tell you again, instead opting to let you cry out what you needed to first. Your hands are tightly gripping Corbeau’s shoulders, nails digging into his skin. Still, he doesn’t stop, using that same, perfect motion. He’d force as many orgasms out of you as he pleased. Finally, you obeyed, lungs catching up to your brain. He smiles wickedly at the way you cry out his name, loud and stuttered by the rhythm of him fucking you. Your moans are desperate, feeling as if you were coming again and again with each movement of his hips. There’s tears streaming down your face from overstimulation, loving every moment, even when you have to beg him to stop. You have no idea how many orgasms he’d just ripped out of you. Corbeau pulls out and crawls upwards, pinning your arms to your sides with his knees. It squishes your boobs together, suddenly getting a beautiful view of Corbeau jerking off in front of your face. His mouth is open, panting; brows furrowed. You open your mouth and stick out your tongue, raising your head to lick the head of his cock. He laughs darkly and slaps it on your tongue, before his face falters, hips bucking in front of you. He comes in your mouth and on your face, moaning at the sight of you accepting all he has to offer. Before you know it, Corbeau’s face is above yours, licking off whatever had missed your mouth. Then, he kisses you sweetly, slowly, soaking in the strongest moments of his afterglow.

Philippe is sitting patiently on a couch in the living room, idly sipping on a cup of black coffee. He’d definitely heard the pounding you’d just gotten. Corbeau offers to prepare you a cup, clothing wrinkled, his hair ruffled and messy. You hobble over and sit down next to Philippe sheepishly, wincing at the discomfort between your legs. You’re ashamed—expecting a smug look like the ones you got from Corbeau—but his smile is kind, judgement free, and he asks you how you slept.

——————

I AM GNAWING ON THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE

I hope u liked it ok ily baibai 💋

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