#no plot

Baelor

The doors close behind you, and for a moment you think Baelor is upset. Not at you, but the air is quiet, the candles are scattered throughout the room, emitting a low orange glow. He's been gazing at you all night, his intense eyes hardly ever breaking away. You feel Baelor's body come up behind yours, his hand smoothing around your waist to your stomach, it's almost ticklish but you remain composed. He moves his hand up between the smoothness of your breasts, your collar bone, holding your neck gently. He has no intention of strangling you, maybe just some slight choking later. Baelor's lips are at your cheeks and he speaks softly, low. My wife, you consume me. He tells you and plants kisses across your cheek as you turn your face, he can finally get to your mouth. Baelor's other hand ventures down, between your legs, still over your gown, but he's slow. He's patient. He can do this all night, and he will.

When Baelor moves you over to your bed, his lips never break from yours. His tongue is quick, like his wit, his head turns and tilts, anything to move deeper inside your mouth. He pulls away momentarily to begin undressing you and you finally breathe, sitting on the edge of the bed. He undresses you first, pulling your gown off and admiring your body as he removes his clothes, pooling where he stands. You rest back onto the bed on your hands and he parts your legs, telling you to lay down. You do exactly as he says.

Good girl, Baelor tells you as he buries his mouth into you. You're wet and hot already, and he squeezes your breasts, one in each hand. When his mouth cannot bear to be apart from yours any more he moves up your body, kissing your belly, your nipples, your collar bone, then your mouth. All you can taste is yourself, but from his mouth it turns you on even more. Baelor settles against your body, his hands delicately moving your hair from your face as he then runs his fingers through your hair, grazing your scalp. He kisses you, his tongue unstoppable, feeling your legs wrap around his waist. Baelor teases you with his thick tip, grazing your pussy, your clit, up and down. He's slow and steady. As he pushes into you, he lifts your arms above your head, pinning you down by the wrists. He gazes, at your neck, strained, and red from his mouth, his kisses. You cry out but it turns him on even more, as his hand gently moves from your wrist to your neck, he grips carefully; he doesn't want to strangle you, but feel you at your throat. Baelor looks down at you, into your eyes and doesn't look away, nodding as you do.

Yes, God's like that. You kiss him, taking his top lip gently with your teeth, then your tongue runs over his bottom lip and slips into his mouth. He's noisier than you thought he would be, groaning against your skin and sucking you. Baelor pushes you up the bed further until you're almost worried you might slip off. He has you secure, and watches as your shoulders tip over the side, your body stretches and you arms spread out, holding onto the side of the bed for grip. As he fucks you, he can see all of you underneath him. When Baelor comes, he lifts his hairy chin up and moans, your fingers graze his downy dark chest, peppered with grey hairs.

Maekar

Maekar doesn't stop no matter how much you cry out in pleasure, no matter how pink your face goes. His mouth was at yours before the door had even closed, his large hands undressing himself first before tearing your gown off in one enthusiastic tug, ripping the material as it came away from your body. His beard, his lips gently grazes your soft skin, across your mouth, your cheek, down to your neck, he sucks and kisses you noisily.

When he guides you to the bed he ensures you are on your front, comfortable, as he strips your stockings from your legs. He looks down at the back of you, his hands running over your skin, up the back of your legs, your thighs, to your backside. He squeezes them with his fingertips, spreading them apart slowly. His face is between your cheeks before you can even turn back to look at him. His tongue finding your asshole, spitting on you quietly, hoping you don't realise. He loves to taste you from behind, spreading your legs just enough to make you wonder when he's going to fuck you from behind. His tongue moves all the way down to your clit, sucking at it, gently flicking you with the tip of his tongue. He works his way slowly back up to your asshole; he does it teasingly, and enough times to make you think you're going to go crazy, or come. You feel more of his weight on top of you, but it's not enough to suffocate you, just enough to press you down into the bedding, to make sure you're not going anywhere. A gentle gasp pushes out from your stomach from his weight. He massages his rigid erection against you, then drags the tip of his cock across your wetness, up and down, teasing until you can't take it anymore, groaning into the fur blankets. You wonder if he's going to fuck your ass first, for a moment, he's teasing you all the way up, and down again. You turn to look at him over your shoulder, his eyes boring into you as he pushes himself inside your pussy without warning, but not fully. You think he's fully in, but it keeps coming and you wonder how much more of him there could possibly be. A moan deep from your throat escapes you involuntarily, but you feel so full and he's teasing you. Maekar knows you love it. He doesn't want to silence you, but he can't help himself, putting his hand over your mouth for a moment, then his middle finger moving inside your mouth, across your tongue, you suck him gently. You arch your back to stick your ass back into him and he gently smacks you, his fingers dragging down your back, tracing up your spine as he grunts. He loves your ass, but he loves looking at your face even more as he fucks you.

When Maekar turns you over onto your front, he's desperate to see your face, your red cheeks, messy hair. He picks you up without much effort, as he swivels to rest his back at the head of the bed, guiding you to straddle him, your knees either side of his body. He lets you guide yourself onto his cock this time, letting you take as much time as you want, you're on top now - in control. He doesn't relinquish his control often but for you, in this moment he can, he wants to see you take over him. His mouth slightly opens, his breathing quickens as you catch his eye, an arm wraps around your waist to keep you in place, and one of your hand's moves to his shoulder, the other holding your bouncing breasts. When you pick up a rhythm and feel his cock burying inside you, he takes both of your hands and pulls them behind your back by the wrists, so he can watch your breasts bounce free, the redness spreading down to your collarbone from being so hot, so wet for him.

Daeron

You feel tipsy from the alcohol, but you're aware of what is happening when Daeron finally has you all for himself. He has his hands cupping your face before the door is fully shut, bringing you to his mouth to kiss. His wet tongue melts into yours, and almost sweeps you off your feet. You rest your hands against his chest as he turns, pinning you against the bookshelf. Daeron moans, pushing his fingers through your hair and controlling where your head tilts, so he has full access to your mouth. You lose track of time, completely encapsulated by his kisses, both of your moans against each other, his tongue. Nothing else matters in that moment until, he rests his erection against your body. He's stiff as a staff, and digging into your hip. Your hands roam down his body, feeling his shape over his black velvet breeches. It's a pleasant surprise, but slightly intimidating.

Mm. He presses his lips together, finally pulling his puckered mouth away from yours. Daeron gazes at you with his big blue eyes and smiles, as he finally begins to undress himself. You follow and start removing your gown, moving away from him so he can see you fully, and you can see him. You feel the fur rug beneath your feet, as you kick your shoes off and away. Daeron steps forward, pulling up his tunic and removing it from his body. He's toned, hairless, as you love. You don't have time to remove your stockings before he's on you again, taking your face, you both collapse slowly onto the fur rug beside the fire.

Daeron is on top of you beside the fire, resting his erection against your body as you kiss. His mouth sloppy and relentless. You moan into his mouth and he smiles, the sound filling him with joy and making him harder. When he begins to fuck you on the fur, you kiss his chin, his neck, licking him and gently sucking him. Daeron smiles uncontrollably as he feels your lips across his body. He presses his weight on top of you, so your bodies are against one another, his hands come to your face, into your hair. Daeron holds on to you as he keeps fucking you, moaning softly into your mouth every now and again. When he sits up slightly, you take over and roll him over so you're on top, looking down at him now, riding his cock and digging your fingers into his chest. He looks up at you adoringly, holding your breasts as you both move. Daeron won't stop until you've come too, he wants to feel your body tremble and erupt around him, your thighs tighten, you're almost there. His thumb gently tickles your clit and you know it won't be long before he's succeeded.

You've moved to the bed now, exhausted but satisfied, sweating from the fire, the physicality. Daeron still wants your mouth, your body on his. He cannot get enough of you. You can't quite know for sure how many times he's come, or even yourself, for that matter. On your side, facing each other, Daeron pulls your leg up to wrap around his body, he can easily access your pussy like this, but knows you're tender, sensitive - he has to be gentle. As long as you're with him, he'll sleep well. and so will you.

Valarr

You're finally alone with Valarr, wondering if he has any interest in you, on this night. He's been quiet throughout the ceremony, the celebration, like he's been lost in his thoughts. When you first danced, he held you tightly, close to his body, and it was a small reassurance that was worth a weight of gold. As the door shuts behind him, you're unable to find any words for this moment. You walk around the room, set up romantically for your first night together as one. There's wine, but you've no taste for it at this hour, there's food but you've eaten enough. Valarr removes his cloak and his eyes never leave you, watching you carefully, quietly, even when you're not looking his way. As you wander the room slowly, playing with your hair in thought, your eyes dance around the room hoping some words, anything, comes to mind. But you're nervous. You're hoping he likes you, God, you need a sign. Anything. You remove your shawl and shoes, then kneel onto the bed, without word, he steps closer and watches you for a moment before he takes his boots off, and he's on the bed with you, kneeling as you are, into the blankets, sheets.

Valarr begins to undo your hair, removing the braids, jewels. He's careful, his jaw tenses for a moment, and you almost hold your breath, scared to let him hear you breathe. You watch him and gaze at his mismatching eyes, gorgeous in their unique colours. He still hasn't spoken a word to just you. Valarr places the jewels on a table near the bed and returns to you, running his hands through your undone hair, the sensation sends ripples through your body, goosebumps erupt over your body. For a second you close your eyes and he notices, and he places his thumb on your bottom lip, his fingers cupping your chin. You gaze back up to him and kiss his thumb, feeling it slowly move in, across your bottom front teeth, you gently graze him with your tongue and taste him as he watches, his plump pink lips slightly apart.

You undress Valarr first and his thumb moves away from your mouth slowly. He begins to help you, then when half of his clothes are loose, not off, Valarr begins to undress you. His fingers pull at the laces, and when your body is exposed, he loses composure. With his open black shirt, you can see his bare torso, his strong chest, abs, but now he's at you, with both hands, desperately pulling you closer to his body. He kisses you finally as his hands feel your chest, massaging your breasts tenderly but focused. His lips are soft and completely take over you, as he pulls you in to him, you're almost sat on his lap. His lips are so soft, plump, sucking at your bottom lip. Valarr pulls your dress up and over your head, so you lift your arms up to help him. When he sees your naked body, he traces his fingers across your skin slowly. You close your eyes, the sensation is so effective, your nipples harden and you feel heavy between your legs, fiery almost.

I am yours, like you are mine. Valarr finally says and you hold his face with both hands, kissing him as if he were about to be taken away from you at any minute. His bare torso brushes against yours, and you help him remove his breeches, quickly. Valarr tosses them to the floor and drags you closer to him by your waist. He leans forward, until you're lying down, underneath his body. He's only dressed in his open velvet jacket, entirely nude beneath. It works, it turns you on. You can see his everything; the freckles across his downy chest, some platinum chest hairs, he's dotted with moles you want to trace with your finger. Valarr leans into your body and kisses you fervently, his tongue lapping up yours, melting into your mouth. His hands move through your hair, tugging ever so gently. You feel protected, almost hidden under his jacket, like you two are in your private world.

You look down at your bodies, as Valarr rubs his middle and ring fingers against your wet pussy, circling and then entering you slowly, one finger at a time. You moan into his mouth and run your hands through his brown and platinum hair. This man will drive you mad. Gently, he pulls his mouth from yours and then his fingers from inside you, bringing them to his mouth to taste. It leaves you speechless for a moment, as you watch without word and your mouth just slightly open. Valarr puts his fingers then to your mouth, gently gliding across your tongue. A smile wipes across his usually placid face, and you realise then just what he is capable of behind closed doors. The world to never know.

Valarr rubs his erection against your pussy and you feel his tip stretch you at first, it hurts but in the best way possible. You moan in a high pitch, and he adores that sound. Valarr is slow, he knows what this is doing to your body, your noises sweetly reassure him of that. He sits up as he picks up a building rhythm, he's moving slow and deep but unrelenting. You sit up, resting your hands back behind you into the bed for support. Valarr pulls you into him by the waist, you're practically in his lap now. your hands venture under his jacket, feeling his torso, his back, he's both hairy and soft. There's nothing coarse about this man, your Prince. He wants you close, and never to be part of him. As you roll your hips into him and back, he laughs shakily, the sensation drives him mad, kissing you then he holds you by your face. But you want his hands at your waist, you guide him with yours, squeezing your body, then moving up to your breasts, and down to your waist.

Just as you come to orgasm you hold your breath almost, his thumb at your clit, the other hand at the top of your back to keep you supported. It builds and when you fear he may stop or do something differently, your thighs clench around him, trembling, a high pitch moan escapes your body but he keeps fucking you. He smiles at the sight of you - you're his and his only forever.

Aerion

Aerion watches you in your private chamber as the doors close behind you both. He's circling, like an eagle taunting its prey. You go to drink some wine to maybe calm your nerves, but he's licking the corner of his mouth with the tip of his tongue softly, with one hand resting at his sword. You watch your step as you back away from him, trying to keep enough space between you both for a minute more, a smile creeps in the corner of your mouth as Aerion removes his belt. You love the anticipation, but what he's capable of you're not entirely sure. He takes his boots off and pouts in thought as you play with your necklace. Come here. He tells you but you stay where you are, as he lunges his foot forward, you flinch, realising he's staying where he is. But this is fun, he knows it, you know it. Aerion chases you around the room and tries to grab at your gown, his hands are not vicious, but you certainly feel his fingers scratch your skin at one point.

You circle your bed and Aerion has you, as he rushes towards you, he tackles you onto the bed. He's lying on top of you, pinning your wrists into the covers, furs, as you look up at him. His platinum blonde hair fluffed and face pink. Aerion kisses you passionately, his tongue rolling into your mouth to take over your tongue. You moan into his mouth, he's energetic to say the least. When you bite his bottom lip, grazing your teeth against him, something turns in him. You made him bleed a little. He growls through gritted teeth and pulls at your gown, he wants to see all of you. Aerion tosses your clothes to the floor and his mouth works down your neck, your collar bone, to your breasts. He sucks at you, his lips pulling at your nipples then his teeth, gentle at first but then he bites you back, hard enough to make you cry out. Aerion then undresses, the black and red velvet material falling to the floor without care. He's toned, he's strong. He has more physical strength than you think, as he strokes your face gently Aerion gives you an encouraging pat on the cheek, tenderly, but he wants you on all fours. Aerion lifts you up and guides you, as he kisses your shoulder, he then sits up and lifts your ass up for him to access you properly, pushing the back of shoulders down a little. His cock is hard, strong like a sword, and you feel him enter you fully without any teasing. He can feel you wet and welcoming him, as you move your ass back into him, he smacks your ass. At first it's gentle, but slowly they grow a little harder until you moan out into the bed. Harder, you tell him and he does as you ask. He smacks you harder as he fucks you until he grabs you by the elbows and lifts you up, he wants his hands over your body, up at your breasts, as he kisses your neck, sloppily and loudly grunting. Aerion gathers your hair in his hand, pulling downward until you look up at the ceiling, your neck exposed. His groin pumps hard against you, his hips smacking against your backside, loudly. He comes in another low grunt, inside you, but he's not done. He never is. Aerion has a sip of wine and is soon back at you on the bed, kissing, his tongue dragging over your mouth, across your tongue. He tastes of wine, now so do you.

Loud-mouthed, irritating, obnoxious, so painfully--

“Jabber.” The word slithered through grinding teeth, a jaw clenched so tight bones creaked.

"Whaaaat, dollface? You've gotta loosen up— I mean, seriously!" The man purred from above you, and the sound got on your nerves like a metal fork on porcelain, a headache that pulsed needily at the back of your skull.

It was an intel mission, a simple, no bullshit intel mission to get information about the spherite who'd passed through a busy town and had been seen by a man-- the makeshift "mayor" of the four dozen that lived in the run-down homes made of shacks with rotting wood. It had taken one low jab for the pudgy man's blood to spill, crimson on carpet, blades through flesh. Jabber's doing. Now the town stood without a mayor, and you without your promised reward from Zodyl, only blooming bruises of red and unsightly purple beneath thin clothing to speak of your failure.

"You absolute waste of space!" Your hand tightened around his throat, fingers flying across skin until you found a familiar thump thump thump, and pressed down onto his trachea, delighting silently in the wheeze of air escaping his lungs, you could hear so distinctly with his lips at your ear.

The metal of his Mankira rings dug into your hips, kneading the soft give of your flesh with a delight that was undeniable from the seat of his pants, where a bulge steadily grew from the promise of violence. Voice watery from the blood rushing from his brain, Jabber crooned as he lowered himself down closer to where you lay on the bed, leveling his face with your pelvis, "Gimme more, mama, I'm gonna tear through my pants at this rate." Revulsion, and then anger, tore through you. Red hot, violent vexation that dragged itself up your spine and clogged your throat. "You gravy-sweating motherfucker, I should rip your throat out and leave you voiceless for all your moaning!" The bruises on his throat bled tan skin a feverish red when you released him.

The small room within the depths of the Raiders' underground base smelled of ever-present blood that had made its home in the cracks of the stone floors, and the musk of need that loomed over you both. Your pants, artfully splattered with oil stains and the recent blood of the town's mayor, were slewn out somewhere on that floor, a discarded heap of clothing that represented both your dignity and self-preservation.

Long, ringed fingers trailing down to the hem of your underwear, Jabber looked up toward you with a dopey grin, one that turned upwards just a bit more when the fat of your thighs pressed against his ears on either side of his head, the pressure making his vision all fuzzy.

"Do something useful with that stupid mouth for once."

The demand guided his tongue flat against the flimsy fabric of your underwear covering your clit, dampening the cloth with each long lick. It was a taunt, a game he would never win, but he played anyway so he could enjoy his loss. When the cotton dragged down your thighs and the chill of the room meant sensitive skin, a shiver tore through his body, visceral in its wake as he stared at your exposed cunt like a drooling dog. A want so violent that when his mouth finally met your cunt, smushing against it like he wasn't to be as close as physically possible, you jolted. It was just once, a flinch from the heat of his lips, the dizziness of pleasure. Just once before your calves locked around the back of his head, forcing his tongue deeper, trapping him between your legs, a merciless strength that had stars of black dancing in his vision.

"Damn you…" You seethed.

Fingers fisted in the sheets on either side of your head, you let your hips grind against his face, eyes half lidded and hateful as you watched as your arousal glossed his swollen lips and drenched his chin. Each nudge of his nose against the sensitive hood of your clit had flashes of bliss shooting up from your toes to the roots of your hair. Ruthless, that was a word to describe Jabber. Ruthless in the calculated, deliberate curl of his tongue, the barbell embedded through the tip of it forcing your walls to gush and squeeze around nothing just. For. Him.

And still— “You won't shut up? Will you?!" Voice a pitch lighter, you pushed out the words with a throaty moan that filled the man with something needy, his hips gyrating against the scratchy sheets, each rut dampening the front of his briefs as he cooed against the warmth of your cunt. "S'sweet, so goddamn sweet." But he wasn't talking to you; he was talking to your pussy.

"Look at her, gushing like a fountain, and f'me? You shouldn't have, honeybun." He slurs, planting a balmy kiss on the inside of one thigh. If it had been anyone else, maybe you would've been embarrassed, but him? It only filled you with a want for more. To destroy that composure, to make him break.

The metal of the bedframe groaned with the movement of two bodies as you shifted positions, and Jabber obediently followed. Now, his back was pressed into the mattress, and you were on top. The material of his pants scraped addictingly against the back of your thighs as you sat yourself onto his lap, a hand drifting down between your heaving bodies to shove away useless fabric and yank the waistband down just enough that his cock slapped against his stomach, the tip glistening under the finicky light fixtures of the bedroom, arousal smearing against the curves of his abdomen.

Delighted, Jabber tossed his head back onto the pillow, locs splaying out around his head, a low, drawn-out moan falling from his lips as you dragged one nail up the thick vein on the side of his dick, the sharpness scratching deliciously against delicate skin. "Juuuus' like that, jus' like that.." His eyes were alight as he stared at the way his dick twitched and throbbed in your palm as you stroked it once, twice, before guiding it between your thighs, letting it rest heavy against your cunt. Every dull jerk his cock gave filled his gut with a pleasure so heavy he just had to laugh.

"I hate you so much." You whispered it like a vow and a promise, one he could catalogue as a way to keep you around just to hear you say it because it wasn't love, it wasn't something said between sighs of affection or soft confessions, it was hatred, a disdain that burned and made it all worth it.

The length of Jabber's cock rubs back and forth against your sex as you slowly start to rock your hips in lazy, drawn-out shapes. The wet noises of his tip catching at your entrance...juuust to slip back out again, and the catch of air you tried to hide was music to Jabber's ears. "You tryna tease me, girl— mmh!" The combination of you suddenly shoving a pillow into his face with wholehearted intentions of suffocating him, and the way your pussy practically swallowed him whole in one roll of your hips, had a cry so unashamed shuddering through him that the rest of the team was sure to hear.

But for once, you didn't think about how annoying it was or the cackles that still reached you from beneath the pillow over his face. Your body was abuzz with something new, something raw and addictive. Every inch, every noticeable vein tracing up his cock, you felt it, up to how his tip smooched your cervix like it had done it dozens of times before. The burn of the stretch was nothing compared to how right it felt to use, to take without shame.

Jabber's hands clawed at your wrists, blunt nails brushing skin, engulfing them easily in a way you tried to ignore, not to push away, but to encourage, forcing you to press the thick cotton of the pillow harder against his face, making air scarce. Each breath, each low, raspy whine he let out suffocated him, hias dick jumped needily inside you. He was loving this.

"Your shame knows no bounds." The disgust is clear, but so is your crumbling resolve; each shifty figure eight his hips made renewed the arousal crawling up your back, clinging to you like a parasite you suddenly wanted to welcome. Discarding the smushed pillow to the side where it fell to the floor near your pants, you brace both hands on his chest, ignoring the way his top clings to sweat-slick skin as you lift up your hips till only the head is inside, faces an inch apart, breath mingling in a way that's...too intimate, and drop back down. "Fuck!" Jabber gasps, his pupils dilating into saucers, the magenta of his irises almost extinguished by the black.

Your throat burns with the moan that spills free, half pleasure, half ache, it's so much; the unsteady rhythm of his hips pushing upwards to meet your downwards motions, how with each thrust your walls suction around him like your cunt's trying to cut off his dick's circulation. With a particular buck of his hips, his tip bumps lewdly against the sweet spot inside you that lights up the sparks of pleasure like a chain reaction, steady gasps and breathless noises no longer held back, but loud.

"That the spot, baby?" He giggles and plants his feet on the bed, positioning himself just right to slam upwards. The force sends you forward across his chest, tears of bliss blurring your vision as he abuses that gummy spot just right, over and over and over until you're gushing and he's just laughing as he rocks his hips to guide you through the electric high.

Infuriating.

It's the cadence in his tone, like he knows he's undone you. "I'm not done with you, you piece of shit." The promise lingers in the air as you force yourself up, shoulders straightening as you stare down at him. His eyes are wide and glossed over with a heat he only gets when he's half dead and pumped full of toxins.

A grunt of surprise precedes the wild look on his face when your hand finds his jaw, the hold so tight his lips push out in a pout and he's sure you could crush his skull. His cock gives a lazy twitch inside you at the thought. Then your other hand is moving to join the first, and it's impossible to describe the look on his face when two of your fingers push past parted lips, until he's choking on the feeling of the pads of your fingertips dancing across his tongue, the taste of gun polish and chemicals lingering on them.

"Suck."

The word, one simple word, short-circuits the man, his eyes rolling back so far that all you can see is the pearly white of his sclera as his hips give a violent jerk up into your dripping cunt. The whimper that follows it sets your skin ablaze with something akin to satisfaction as you feel beads of precum paint your insides, a creamy white ring forming on the base of his cock, sticky and loud as you begin to move.

His tongue laves over your two fingers, urging them deeper into his mouth as you start moving again, the flashes of pleasure overshadowed by the way his body shakes and his back curves into a pornographic arch as he finally breaks, cum painting the inside of your cunt. "fu...fuck. FUCK— 's se-sensitive, dolly, don't stop— hurts so good." Tears roll down his smooth skin when you truly don't stop moving, and for the first time that night, you feel like you've gotten your reward, even if it's in salty tears.

His hands reach for your waist, itching to feel, to push up thin fabric and grab at the warm skin, yet they find nothing when you smack them away, choosing to pin them above his head instead, keeping the man restrained as you use him, deaf to his moans and whines, treating him like a toy. Nothing's ever turned him on more.

You moan like nobody can hear you, sweet and perfect and something Jabber could totally get used to if you let him. "Baby, you tryna torture me?" Desperate and at your mercy, he eyes your tits hidden beneath a tight black shirt you hadn't bothered to take off, they're right. There. And he can't even reach them. This must be torture. He wants to be all over you like he doesn't know how to not touch you, and he can't? You're so good.

The stiff ridges of his veins slide so perfectly against the walls of your sappy pussy, it's pleasure and agony so similar for Jabber that he's not sure where one starts and the other begins. The cum makes everything so slippery, the friction's 10x better than before if thats even possible, and the expression on your face?

The hatred in your eyes, like you'd kill him if he didn't serve any use to you? Perfect, everything about it, the pinch of your brows, the line of your lips when you roll your hips just right, god it's just you, you're perfect, The thought has him cumming hard for the second time that night, harder than the last, harder than anything he's ever experienced in his fucking life, so hard his vision goes white and he's sure sex with you is better than heaven, cuz what could beat this?

"You— you have'ta be a sex goddess or sum, man..." He mumbles, unintelligible as his head lolls to the side, resting on the tear-damp pillow beneath him, his eyes fluttering closed, his cock still twitching in you, keeping all the cum inside.

"You’re so pathetic." The insult is more quiet exasperation than anger. You’re glad he’s too dazed to hear it.

────────────

“Puh-shaw. I barely peeked outside.” Rafayel waves the comment off. “Nothing happened.”

“More importantly I saw they’ve finally arrived home from work!”

“That doesn’t necessarily mean theyll be playing anytime soon.” Sylus says without even looking up from his phone leaning casually on the cafe counter. “Besides we saw them during their breaks at work.”

“You know, getting to play a round of kitty cards with them is not enough.”

“And I dont see the screen announcing Player’s soon to be arrival.”

“But I heard them say they have 3 days off!”

That has all of the others attention. To have a player’s near undivided attention for 3 days is like an impossible dream.

“Do whatever you want, but Im gonna go pick out an outfit for when they come.” Rafayel materializes a mirror and his clothes switch from one set to another with a swipe of his fingers across the mirror.

“It wouldnt hurt to get rea-“ Xavier starts

Suddenly a giant screen appears before them and a familiar tune plays.

The others materialize their own mirrors to pick a quick fit. Whilst Caleb uses his evol to flingout graciously clean up anything that shouldnt be seen by Player.

“C’mon, c’mon!!! It’s almost at 100%!” Rafayel runs over to the others and holds out a fist to them shaking it beginning their agreed upon way to decide who gets to greet player.

After a very quick run of rock, paper, scissors Xavier gets off The Couch Seat as Sylus stands in front of the screen in his Soft Distance fit with no added accessories.

“I swear somehow he cheats.” Caleb harshly whispers as they hide from view.

“We’ll ruin his outfit another time!” Rafayel pushes Caleb away from the screen. “Hide!” Xavier teleports besides them as Zayne joins them on the dark side of the screen.

Sylus follows his script about coffee and the beach. And as always they hear their player’s giggle.

“What’s happening?”

“They’re using up the stamina and checking on the Silver Galaxy wish.” Sylus provides in a low voice. “And now theyre clicking on events.”

Suddenly a bright white light engulfs but it just as suddenly disappears.

*Wait!! No! I dont want to start any events yet. Just let me check what events are on right now!*

“What just happened?” Caleb whispers.

“I think it was the game trying to get Player to start the Main Event.” Xavier supplies.

*Oh wow. This is a lot. Royal Masque, Timelock Key, Poetic Figures, Illusia Locus? Wait there’s more? Hearts Archive. Dont think Ive heard about it? New promise… Anniversary sale… I think I’ll start with checking out the new home feature first.*

The screen before Sylus flips sideways. And the environment changes to the inside of a barely furnished home.

“Uhh… wait I feel a little funny…” Rafayel groans.

Xavier points at their hands which were looking a little less than what theyre used to. They hold them up and begun touching their own faces feeling a little smoother and less textured.

“Well. It’s better than being in our chibi forms.” Xavier said trying to look on the brighter side.

“Speak for yourself.” Caleb poked at his arm. “This feels way more uncanny.”

“It will take some getting used to…” Zayne agreed.

“Would you mind keeping quiet before it finishes loading?” Sylus voiced low but harshly.

The screen before Sylus disappears replaced by Player’s Avatar.

Something was living in your drains.

At first you thought you had rats. It's an old house, and the area was lousy with them despite the feral cat population. It's funny, you never saw so many living in the city, but you move to a tiny village out in the rolling countryside and here they are, out in force. You'd never seen so many, or had to call the exterminator so many times to refresh their traps in your loft. Not that the landlord really cared, he was just happy to have a tenant who's unlikely to smash the place up. When next door was raided and a grow-op found to be taking up much of the upper floors, he made a point of sending you a note making sure you were alright. Not much, sure, but having a pretty hands-off relationship was good for you both. You sent him rent money every month and in return he didn't bother you. But there were still rats.

You paid it no mind. The scrambling sounds only happened when you ran the water, so they were probably quite thoroughly downstream. More than likely you were just hearing echoes up the pipework. Nothing to worry about.

One evening, as you often do, you stood in the shower, enjoying the feeling of the warm water over you, soaping up your nude body, maybe paying a little more attention than you needed to around your soft tits, sliding your fingers a little more between your legs than was strictly warranted. You weren't in the mood to properly get yourself off in the shower, you might see to that later. The sounds in the pipes are louder than usual. They're putting you off your game.

What's really weird is, they sound different. Not the scrabbling of tiny claws, more a slurping sound, like drinking the last few drops of a cup of soda. You didn't notice the drain seem to clog. You hadn't spotted the cover unscrew itself from the threaded fitting. You only clocked something was up when the water was an inch deep around the soles of your feet.

By then, it was too late to run.

A half dozen tendrils were upon you. Thin, whitish, veined with pink. Something else was sliding up from the drain, a bulbous mass, crowned with ever more of the squirming limbs. By the time you had screamed, it was in the bath with you. When you tried to move, it grabbed your ankles, pulling your feet from under you. The bathtub resounded with the force of your fall, somehow you'd managed to not hit your head.

The creature was upon you, holding your legs apart. Textured ridges on the tendrils meant it held its grip even despite the soapy water making it impossible for you to try and prise it off you. Before long, it had your hands, pinning them to your thighs, keeping you sat upright as it climbed.

You screamed again as it stalked between your thighs, the football-sized body headed inexorably to your crotch. All that got you was a pair of limbs in your mouth. It tasted bitter, a thin slime coating its body. The tentacles in your mouth throbbed, pushing to the very back of your throat before spurting out a stream of cold liquid.

You choked and spluttered. The liquid flew from your nose, dribbling down your face. A little went down your throat.

Your head began to spin. Your body got hot. So hot it felt like the shower was cold. Your nippes throbbed, standing on end. You felt your cunt ache, your pulse echoing through your body as it sped up. You needed something inside you, anything at all.

How convenient.

Were your hands free before? Did it matter? You grabbed at the pale ball, pulling it up, letting it kiss your folds. Another spurt of the bitter liquid filled your mouth, but you were ready for it now, swallowing it down, feeling your toes curl. Your hips ground against the thing. Something was protruding from it. Not an arm, something thicker, stiffer, you knew what you were going to do with it.

You moaned as you slid it inside you, the tendrils so recently stopping you escaping now holding it to your body as you ground your hips against the thick organ filling you up. You barely noticed it was already leaking. Thick, lumpy fluid, like if you strained boba tea and forced it through a tube. It was sliding up inside you, depositing as deeply as you could force it.

Maybe on some level, you knew it was filling you with its young. Maybe you would have tried to resist, had you control of your mind. Now though? Your belly full, your womb stuffed, your thoughts reduced to the animal urge to do nothing but breed?