Vincent Valentine Week

You're so fucked. You shouldn't be into this, you really really shouldn't be into this, but how are you supposed to even consider bringing all of this to a halt? This is your one chance to break the ice with Vincent, to approach the subject of getting closer to his monsters. Chaos says that Vincent already knows that you want them, and you have no choice but to trust the beast. Hovering between your legs, Chaos looks so much like your lover and your guard is down. For just a moment you wonder, wanting to know that Chaos might look like when he's not trapped in Vincent's form. Hopefully, one day you'll get to find out.

Taking a deep breath, you try to be confident, intending to taunt the beast, to put up a brave front even though it can clearly see right through you. "Do you really think you'll do better at this than him?"

"Oh my sweet little human," Chaos cackles, voice deep, inhuman and seductive. "Always running your mouth, always pretending. But your body betrays you. I can smell you," it hisses, wings beating the air behind it in time with elevated breaths. "And I am starving."

Trying to calm yourself, Vincent's head lowers. A wave of apprehension makes itself known through your curiosity and arousal, but it lingers only for a moment. Chaos sniffs at you, over exaggerated and luxuriously, scenting the air between your legs. Purring, the sound rumbles deep within its throat, echoing through its chest and reverberating off the cave walls. The vibration of it flutters across the sensitive skin of your inner thigh as Chaos breathes against your skin. Hot breath escapes in shallow puffs from between full lips, unable to close fully due to protruding fangs, starting to drip with saliva.

The sight, the sounds, the position, everything about this turns you on and there's no point denying it. You're already wet, Chaos' hot breath and the humid cave air drawing unignorable attention to the stickiness between your thighs. Vincent's human hand, skin pale and prominent veins tinted black, wraps tightly around your thigh. Holding you still, it presses hard, indenting your flesh. Pain mixes with anticipation as your body silently begs for more. Glancing momentarily upwards, slitted yellow eyes find your gaze, watching for consent. Finding no hesitation, Chaos smirks treacherously, leaning lower to press its tongue to your core.

Scorching heat, something far too hot, too malleable, wet, delicious and alive assaults your senses. Your hips buck involuntarily, breath catching in your throat. The thick flat of Chaos' tongue drags, wide enough that the edges slick your thighs as you're tasted. Licking and digging ever so slightly into your entrance, it rubs all the way upwards until it rests heavily against your bud.

You've never felt anything like this and anticipation makes you want more except Chaos withdraws it's tongue and you whine. Head pulling up slightly, it shows you the streaked mess of your slick pooled in the centre of it. Grinning even though its tongue is still sticking out, it rolls the entire thing back into its mouth, swallowing heavily with an exaggerated groan.

"Sweet," it hisses, tongue still in its mouth, lips not moving. Vincent's cheeks bulge as a too long tongue coats every part between his lips with your flavour. Eyes closing, the creature groans, looking content and hungry as it dives back down for more.

The far too thick, twisting base of its tongue rubs at your clit once more, tasting you, teasing you. Your hips twitch up into the sensation. Vincent's hand is still tight at your thigh, holding you still, not allowing you to move away. The sensation is different, familiar but exciting, unpredictable compared to what you're used to. Vincent's changed face pushes between your legs, eager and wilding. Licking and kissing, wet suction covers every inch of your desire with saliva and it feels so fucking good despite everything.

Chaos teases and sucks, making a complete and utter mess of you while hiding away the split tip of its tongue. Teasing you with the thick base, it wets your folds, dragging your arousal to the surface. Drawing out your pleasure, it refuses to give you what you really want. The creature wants you to beg, you know this, but you're not going to give it the satisfaction.

Prehensile wetness slithers inside of you, the split ends held together and moving as one. Long and overeager, it licks at your inner walls, squirming and teasing. You gasp, hips bucking, pushing into the sensation as you're stretched open, tongue so much thicker than it should be. Slithering inside, doubling over, Chaos fills your insides completely, feeling almost like its licking at your lungs. Playing with you, it tastes every part of you, except of course for the one little spot where you want it to the most. Apparently your monster is an expert marksman just like Vincent, avoiding your spot with an uncanny precision.

You're not going to beg, you're not going to give the thing wearing your lover's skin the satisfaction even though it's getting harder and harder to resist. Your thighs are shaking, breath heavy. You need more. Fuck, you're not used to this. Vincent always gives in, always gives you exactly what you want. He teases and riles you up, but when you beg, when your body begs, without words he always gives in with a adoring desperation, filled with arousal as he watches you come apart. Chaos does not appear to have the same weakness.

"Is this—," your breath catches as that thick tongue swipes inside of you, deliberately trying to derail your thoughts. "Is this all you've got? Vincent is better."

Chaos growls, an animalistic, delicious things that goes straight to your core. There's definitely something wrong with you. It notices, yellow eyes slithering downwards as new slick drips from your channel. Looking right at you with its inhuman gaze, you stare back at the devil wearing Vincent's skin. It gives a sly, desperate grin, speaking without moving its lips. "Your body betrays your pretty little mouth."

You gasp, hissing when Chaos pulls away, long tongue licking over Vincent's face, cleaning the mess of your fluids dripping down his chin. The expression on Vincent's face, it's pure fucking smugness. An expression he would never wear, a twisted, taunting too wide grin, shimmering teeth far too white and far too long, fangs peeking over his lip. Blackened veins bulge underneath his skin, large horns, double the height they had been sprout from his head, messing up his hair. He's ethereal, beautiful, yours, and you should be horrified but instead, fuck maybe you are actually going to start begging.

"If you will not behave," Chaos purrs, tongue out, speaking somehow even though those split ends are undulating graphically once more. "Then you will not find your crest until I allow it."

Vincent's body raises up, leaning over you, bending you in half. Human hand tightening on your thigh, Chaos' monstrous arm slithers between your legs, rough leather spreading your thighs apart.

With unmatched precision, Chaos slips lower, nestling your throbbing bud right into the little groove where the split ends of its tongue meet. You gasp, pleasure blinding as both ends start moving, pulsing, playing with you. It's like nothing you've experienced before.

Crying out, your pleasure quickly begins to build uncontrollably. Hips bucking, breathing increasing, you're suddenly impossibly hot, flushing. Eyes closing, head thrown back, your entire focus shifts between your legs. That forsaken tongue doesn't stop moving. Twisting and trapping, it plays with your hood, teasing at the bud that's definitely now protruding from underneath it. Pulling, kissing and sucking at you, all you can hear are the mortifying wet sounds of your pleasure. So fucking close suddenly, your hands scramble for purchase, tangling in the rich fabric of Vincent's cloak underneath you.

"Vincent," you cry, wanting to tell him that you're close, that you need him.

The pleasure stops completely.

You whine, so fucking close. Your entire body still pulsing and tight with anticipation.

Chaos stares up at you, mouth soaked with your fluids. "Wrong name," it purrs, smirking and so fucking smug. "Try again."

Lowering back down, suddenly twirling, duelling tongue tips assault your body. They move in time with your pulse, with the pleasure that starts skittering across your spine and tightens in your breath. Effortlessly, pressure builds, saliva and slick soaking you. You try to catch your breath, to give into the sensation, to get used to it, but it's overwhelming. Sweat beads suddenly at your skin, the air humid and overheated. You want more.

"Close," you call out this time, trying not to use a name.

A rush of hot air brushes between your legs and they tense, desperate for more. Tongue tips continue to dance, to shift independently and play you like they understand your every desire. You're close once more, that metaphorical band between your thighs so close to snapping.

But Chaos stops once again.

Howling, you smack your palms down against the dirt, the sound muffled by Vincent's cloak. Chaos laughs, not moving from its perch between your legs. "I told you sweetling. You will not find your release until I am satisfied."

Chaos calls all the shots and you're stuck along for the ride. Twice more the creature wearing your lover's skin brings you right to the edge, tongue moving in time with your pulse, with the rhythm of your body. Testing your endurance, there's nothing you can do. You're so fucking wound up, body tight, legs shaking and desperate. You can't catch your breath. Everything is so hot, between your legs soaked, thighs smeared with saliva and wetness. Sweat drips from your skin, the humidity in the cave stifling, the storm completely forgotten. Chaos' tongue moves inside of you, tips alternating and laving at your clit until you're worked into a desperate frenzy.

"Please let me come," you beg the beast, wings growing, blocking out your vision. Chaos stares back at you, yellow eyes shining, horns so large now that it has to angle its body specially so they don't get in the way.

"Admit that I am better than him," Chaos laughs.

You shake your head, still not wanting to give him. "I don't know, you won't let me come."

Chaos cackles. "He cannot do this for you, because he is too weak, too wanting for your release. I will ruin you."

Not letting you respond, Chaos gets back to work, adjusting his grip. This time though, instead of pressing its tongue to you, Vincent's monstrous arm, blackened leathery skin and dark veins, claw tips still retracted rub across your entrance. Pausing for a moment, testing your resolve, those tongue tips lash against your clit as a thick finger starts to slide inside of you.

Crying out, your hips shift, stretched around the girth of something monstrous. Vincent has never put his left hand inside of you before. The leathery texture is addictive, thickness mind blowing. You're so swollen inside, desperate, soaking wet and another finger slips in without any resistance. Chaos taps at your g spot, fingers curling expertly as its tongue continues to play with your clit.

You scream, the pleasure too much, too overwhelming for you to hold back. You're never fucking going to be able to get enough of this.

You can feel your release approaching, practically taste it, intense and strong. You need it, you're going to die if you're denied again. Tongue not stopping, thick fingers pistoning in and out of you, you think you're going to get what you want this time. Barely able to breathe, you reach down and grab onto thick horns. You tug, pulling hard so that Chaos won't be able to withdraw. You swear you feel full lips smirking against your core.

Chaos is too strong and you can feel the pressure on your hands as it pulls back, planning to deny you again. Fuck, you need this. "Chaos!" you cry out, voice breaking, desperation so fucking clear. Somehow it's enough, the tugging stops as the facade of your lover starts working overtime. Not stopping, the pleasure builds, tingling, pulsing and overwhelming until your eyes clamp shut and stars burn themselves into your vision. Hips bucking, you lose control of your body, lost to your release, to the build up of being edged so many times.

Chaos draws out your pleasure and it's unbearable, tapping at your g spot in time with your pulse, tongue tips circling your clit. Somehow, it knows when every single wave of pleasure is going to hit you, and enhances them. You can barely handle it. You've never come so strongly, never felt anything like this before. You can't stop falling apart.

Chaos is smirking, you can feel it in the air when it pulls away. Spots of light dance in your vision, not allowing your eyes to focus. Chest heaving, you struggle to catch your breath as Chaos gently lowers you down from being bent in half. It feels like your legs sink down through the floor. Vincent's cloak is soft underneath you, comforting as you catch your breath against the cave floor.

"See. I am better then him," Chaos preens, wings fluttering behind it. It looks so proud of itself, like an animal that's just solved a puzzle. You can see the creature hiding inside of Vincent now, the black outlines of a differently shaped skull, of extra teeth and protruding adornments. Your devil is hauntingly beautiful.

You try to reply but your words catch in your dry throat, body still twitching, you're lightheaded and not quite ready to face the consequences of what you've done just yet. Chaos allows you to calm, wings curling around you, blocking the disorientating flashes of thunder bouncing off the cave walls that you'd completely forgotten about.

Trying to sit up, Chaos helps you, touch so very gentle. You look at the creature trying to help you, unable to stop your eyes from being drawn to the absolutely obscene, monstrous bulge between its legs, practically bursting at the seams of Vincent's pants.

Chaos notices you looking, eyes darting to follow your gaze as it smirks. "Do you wish to return the favour? My sweet little degenerate?" Chaos hisses, drawing upwards.

Vincent's body contorts oddly, bending unnaturally as Chaos sits itself up. Vincent has definitely somehow grown taller and broader than usual, his clothes even more skin tight than usual. Chaos' wings flex to help it sit upwards allowing you to stare unencumbered between its legs.

Thick thighs strain the seams of Vincent's pants while the bulge at his crotch is so much larger than you know is possible, visible straining against the inside of his left leg, you can practically see the pop of veins and the outline of the head of his cock through the leather.

There's something so fucking wrong with you, because you want to. You're exhausted, breathing heavy, mouth dry, but you lick your lips all the same, nodding. "I need—," you struggle, "I'll need a moment though."

Chaos laughs. "Allow me to prepare your throat."