#subbotlispace

“Is that true Xavier?” his Queen’s voice is dripping with false saccharine. She knows the answer, judging by the way she rolls her hips forward, meeting Xavier’s ass with a loud smack, a satisfied hum leaving her at his loud open mouthed moan.

It is his fault.

But that’s beside the point.

Rafayel snickers at Xavier, smugness and self-righteousness radiating from him. The effect is almost comical given the full body flush and sweat shining on his temple. Rafayel of all people was in no position to be smug.

Xavier almost lunges at him, seeing red, except—

“Rafayel, you know better,” his Bride chastises him almost immediately, yanking at his hair for leverage to fully seat her strap into his plush ass. For the second time tonight, Xavier sees the whites of Rafayel’s eyes.

“What are you two doing? You’re supposed to be kissing and making up,” she shakes her head, the pearls in her hair catching the light to and fro. Her tone is light, as if chastising unruly children.

“Whatever will we do with you both?” they wonder out loud.

The Queen pets at Xavier’s hair, lovingly smoothing out some tangles, before reaching over him, kissing his back, leaving fire in its wake. She paws at him, silently asking for a kiss, which he eagerly obliges, happily turning back to meet her open lips.

“Do you need us to demonstrate?” she whispers dramatically.

Like dogs, Xavier and Rafayel instantly nod, wide-eyed.

She smiles, dazzling, before giving them both a kiss on the cheek, paying no mind to Xavier’s grunt as her movements press the strap further into his hole.

“Okay then.”

At the same time, they both grab the men by the back of their skulls, mashing their faces together in a farce of a kiss.

“Come on, make us believe you’ve made up to each other,” the Bride grabs Rafayel’s hips once more, fucking him in earnest again just as the Queen picks up the pace on her end.

A particularly hard thrust has Xavier scooting up the bed with a gasp, moving even closer to Rafayel. The two men look at each other, pouting ever so slightly, unwilling to be the first to give in. Rafayel looks like he’d rather be petting cats, glowering at Xavier while his Bride presses his shoulders down. The effect is diminished, mostly because he’s a little too busy arching his back, begging his Bride for more.

She clicks her tongue.

“Fine. Come here—” his face scrunches up before he finally reaches up and to meet Xavier’s lips once more. The other man pouts, just to get the last word in, before fully giving into Rafayel. The two men frantically kiss, open mouthed and sloppy, tongues everywhere, moving from lips to neck and back again.

The combined sensation of his Queen’s strap, coupled with Rafayel’s skilled kisses has Xavier humping the air, frantically seeking friction. He moans, loudly, into Rafayel’s mouth, any sense of pride swept away by want.

To an outside observer, it was an impossible scenario. The King of Darknight and the Lemurian Sea God, thoroughly under the spell of their lovers, seeking pleasure in each other while receiving it manifold from the fullness in their asses. Both men are on their knees, cheeks bouncing with each snap of the hip. With each thrust their kisses deepen, fingers entwining, holding hands while being split apart, while being taken.

Xavier noses at Rafayel's neck, pulling him, gliding his hands down Rafayel’s body, tugging and rolling at his nipples.

“Oh fuck—“ Rafayel moans, a full throated pretty sound that has Xavier wanting to hear it again. He moves his head down, right over Rafayel’s chest, mouth so close to his nipple that Rafayel can feel it touch everytime the Queen thrusts into Xavier.

The King peers up at Rafayel through his lashes, ensuring his gaze is on him before smirking and sticking his tongue out. He latches on, licking and sucking Rafayel’s nipple while working the other one between his calloused fingers. Rafayel arches with a cry, pushing his chest forward, chasing his Bride and Xavier’s attentions, rocking back and forth between them.

Several bite marks on Rafayel’s chest later and Xavier finally relents, just as his Queen starts to pinpoint the spot that makes his knees buckle.

“Nngh — please I— I need more,” Xavier whimpers, shaking his ass, finally fully casting out his pride. Rafayel can feel it in the way his shoulders relax, and how glassy the blue of Xavier’s eyes have become.

“I know, I know.” Her words are kind but her thrusts turn slow, almost fully pulling out each time before slowly pushing back in, admiring the way Xavier opens up so readily now.

The four of them are all on their knees almost upright— the two women continuing to show no mercy while their men kiss and moan and grind on each other, their torsos practically melded together. Through the haze Rafayel takes Xavier’s hand in his own, moving it over to grasp both their cocks. It was the barest, heavy handed, sloppy jerk but their eyes roll back in relief, grateful for the friction they had been missing all night. There's so much pre-cum that Xavier's palm is slick instantously.

“Yes right—unnh— Raf—“

“No.”

The command is simple, but they both freeze mid-stroke, breaths mingling harshly as they look at each other, wide-eyed. Later, they'll both come to the independent conclusion that they're nothing short of whipped.

“If you wanted that, you should’ve played nice. You both can either cum on our straps or not at all.”

“B-but— I— ohhh—” Xavier’s complaint is cut off by a twist of Rafayel’s hand. The relief is short lived though, as the Bride lands a sharp slap on the God's ass for his impudence.

“It looks like we’ll be here all night,” the Queen sighs, reaching over to tuck a piece of Xavier's hair behind his ear from where it had been plastered to his forehead. She then plants her foot onto the bed for more leverage, driving into his hole with renewed vigor. The new angle almost makes Xavier collapse in surrender, shuddering atop Rafayel’s body.

“Sorry about this one,” to Xavier’s utter mortification, she reaches over and pats his cheek, the same way an owner pets their dog, “he gets like this sometimes.”

Rafayel’s Bride giggles, just as she reaches under him to rake his firm thighs with her nails, causing him to yelp into Xavier’s shoulder. The dissonance of it all, a god writhing underneath his priestess, fills the other two with a thrum of energy despite the hour.

“Him too, I don’t know what to do with him sometimes,” she murmurs, kissing his ear before resuming her assault on Rafayel’s hole. He's starting to babble, sliding into incoherence.

“It’s like all they respond to are treats and threats."

The two women look at each other knowingly.

“Guess we’ll just have to use both til they learn their lesson.”

note: teehee i've been on a bottom!starfish kick lately and a foursome one i guess i don't know what says about me. i wrote this in an hour on my phone and to spread bottom starfish agenda. thanks for reading! reblogs, comments, likes always appreciated.