an angel on the walls of versailles.

he has half a mind to flip her, but it's put on the backburner in his brain when she's coming down over him, grasping around his jaw and goading him to open his mouth for her, which is done without a second thought. he does not stop his thrusts, but slows them only a hair, so that as she rolls her tongue into his mouth, he does not accidentally bite her. and then comes the drool. drool that is swallowed with vigor and a moan stifled by the presence of her mouth against his own, pushed deeper only so that the previous idea can become a reality.

after all, it's easier to fuck deeper, harder, longer when he has more control.

rabies pinches her waist between his rough hands to keep her in place as he rolls them, pinning her on her back beneath his weight even as he shifts her little body into position. knees up near her shoulders, feet in the air, spine curled. his magic crossed cockhead will reach parts of her only god has managed before.

she's stuck beneath him in this fashion, his hips already pistoning with more gusto than he'd been able to manage a moment before, but now one of his hands leaves the back of her knee to slip between them, grabbing her face at either side, pressing harshly against the joints of her jaw.

         he's   so   beautiful   the   way   he   drinks   from   her,       serena   shivers   and   she   knows   he   can   feel   it   down   to   his   base,       where   their   hips   connect.           she'd   never   done   it   to   anyone   else   before,       but   wesley   ?           she   needed   to   see   it,       and   she   keens   like   a   pleased   bird   at   his   reaction.

         then   she   lands   on   her   back   with   a   gasp   at   the   force   it   takes,       the   way   wesley   is   deeper   inside   of   her   than   her   fingers   have   ever   reached.           she's   practically   bent   in   half,       stretched   beyond,       but   she   loves   the   feeling   of   him   inside   her.           it's   where   he   belongs,       connected   to   her,       all   sweat   and   saliva   and   cum   and   devotion.           it   would   drip   out   of   her   folds   if   his   cock   wasn't   keeping   it   pressed   inside,       further   and   further   with   every   thrust   inside   of   her.

         need   for   him   squeezes   at   her   rib   cage,       as   if   the   pressure   of   him   bearing   down   on   her   little   body   isn't   enough.           she   needs   him   to   melt   into   her,       until   there's   no   straight   ending   between   them.

         her   lips   part   for   him           —           as   if   she'd   deny   him   anything   when   he's   this   deep   inside   of   her.           but   the   combination   of   his   french   and   the   demand,       the   way   he   grips   her…           serena   moans   in   the   back   of   her   throat   as   he   spits   in   her   mouth,       and   she   swallows   it   like   a   sacrament,       like   holy   wine.           then   she   pulls   him   down   to   kiss   it   deeper,       to   swallow   his   tongue   and   his   cock   at   the   same   time.           one   of   her   hands   curls   into   his   hair,       while   the   other   digs   into   his   shoulder.

@wihlted gets a 'plotted' thing.

his breathing is heavy, even though he's only just begun, the way his chest rises and falls amplified by the inability for his back to expand when he sucks air inward, it already pressed too tight against the wall as he sits there on the floor of his dressing room. it's always so much to get ready for a show. so much anxiety. so much tingle in his fingertips and toes that crawls up his limbs the closer to showtime it gets. he can't count how many he's thrown up before in his years being professional.

but all of that is gone. the curtain's already fallen, the laughs already had, the audience mostly poured out of the venue leaving just a handful of staff that are primarily focused on cleaning up the seating areas.

it gives him time.

         it's   hard   to   breathe   when   she   isn't   wrapped   around   one   of   them,     preferably   both   of   them.         wesley   had   been   in   new   york   with   her,     until   vincent   called   him   away.           serena   had   pouted,       but   there   is   only   one   higher   power   than   her.         it   hadn't   been   a   difficult   decision   then   to   take   six   xanax   and   fly   to   amsterdam,       to   keep   richie   company.         the   plane   lands   just   as   he's   taking   his   bow,     and   by   the   time   serena   makes   it   to   the   theatre,     there's   only   a   few   people   left   to   let   her   in.         richie's   team   knows   her   by   heart,     and   she   glides   through   the   maze   of   lights   and   production   to   find   his   dressing   room.

         she   doesn't   knock,       doesn't   think   to           —           richie   is   hers,       every   bit   as   she   is   his,     and   what   privacy   should   exist   between   them   ?         maybe   it's   wesley's   ideals   that   have   rubbed   off   on   her,     or   the   exacerbation   of   her   own   traits,       but   regardless,     she's   thankful   that   she   didn't   when   she   sees   what   richie   is   doing.

❛  i can’t stop thinking about you.  ❜ ❛  i’m gonna make you scream my name.  ❜ ❛  you won’t be able to walk straight after i’m done with you.  ❜ ❛  you like it when i talk dirty to you, don’t you ?  ❜ ❛  i’m planning to turn you into a dripping mess.  ❜ ❛  you make me so horny i can’t think straight.  ❜ ❛  i’ve been thinking about bending you over that table and just having my way with you.  ❜ ❛  you’ve been a bad girl / boy, and deserve a punishment.  ❜ ❛  you’re gonna come for me later ?  ❜ ❛  i’ve been touching myself to the throught of what you’re gonna do to me.  ❜ ❛  you’re gonna be a good girl / boy ?  ❜ ❛  i want you to take control.  ❜ ❛  you didn’t think i’d just let you get away with all this teasing, right ?  ❜ ❛  if there weren’t so many people watching us, i’d already be on my knees in front of you.  ❜ ❛  i’ve got a suprise planned for you later.  ❜ ❛  tonight is gonna be all about you.  ❜ ❛  i’m wearing some nice new lingerie for you.  ❜ ❛  do you see how hard / wet you’ve already made me ?  ❜ ❛  your moans are music to my ears.  ❜ ❛  i don’t normally do this, but you bring out this craziness in me.  ❜

[ PALM ] ― your muse palms my muse’s penis / breasts through their clothes. [ NIBBLE ] ― your muse gently nibbles on my muse’s earlobe. [ SEDUCTION ] ― my muse whispers dirty nothings into their ear. [ FRENCH KISS ] ― your muse kisses my muse with tongue. [ WATCH ] ― my muse starts to masturbate in front of your muse. [ CLOTHES OFF ] ― your muse helps my muse undress. [ WALL ] ― your muse pins my muse against the closest wall. [ GRIND ] ― your muse teasingly grinds against my muse. [ SEXTING ] ― my muse sends your muse a dirty text / picture. [ VIBRATION ] ― your muse controls a sextoy my muse has inside of them. [ MASSAGE ] ― my muse gives your my a sensual massage. [ BLINDFOLD ] ― my muse makes your muse wear a blindfold. [ FLASH ] ― my muse ‘accidentally’ flashes your muse. [ SUCK ] ― your muse sucks on a banana / lollipop in front of my muse. [ STRIP ] ― my muse gives your muse a strip tease. [ DANCE ] ― my muse dances seductively for your muse. [ TIES ] ― my muse ties your muse down on the bed. [ SPANKING ] ― your muse spanks my muses’ ass. [ PORN ] ― our muses watch a dirty movie together. [ LAP ] ― my muse sits on your muses’ lap and teases them.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✉︎ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ ━━ BUTTERBUTT ♡

˗ˏˋ    ꒰     ✉︎     ꒱       ˎˊ˗             ━━             MY   WESLEY    ♡

⌯⌲           Yes. ⌯⌲           I'm   just   curious   what   it   feels   like… ⌯⌲           Is   that   weird?

         “ coño … ¿qué voy a hacer contigo? ”  mostly mumbled to himself as césar’s hand raises to his temple, where pressure is collecting, threatening to burst boiling blood vessels, the ones that pump oxygen to his brain to keep him thinking, breathing, beating, alive. confronted with the truth of himself, this is always about the time when césar starts wishing he wasn’t. his tongue darts out to wet the dry of his lips, not unlike how a predator might before devouring his prey. this time, he doesn’t mean it like that. 

         it takes everything in him not to push her away. it takes everything in him not to-

the wolf howls. just push her off the balcony, let her try to fly away, then. watch her fine ballerina bones shatter as they hit the ground. there, there, little birdie not your problem, no more. you always thought you’d eat her alive-

         jesus christ.   “ what’s the matter with you, eh? you can’t leave well enough alone. ”  he’s scolding her like he means to scold himself.  “ you have no idea what you are asking for, chiquita. you don’t want this.”

         still, his serena stays, pleading with him. he’s a stubborn man, a wolf whose pride is bigger than the both of them. he shakes his head, muttering, again to himself. césar clicks his tongue, scoffing.  “ i don’t care if you’re scared …”  he looks up, then, suddenly, taking her jaw in his hand. like a lover … or like a monster.  “ ey, you forget? i like when you are scared. ”

         she's   watching   him   closely,     a   deer   watching   headlights   approach   ;     curious,       astounded.           he's   answered   her   question   already,     without   so   many   words.           a   man   who's   never   tasted   blood   would   just   say   no.         scold   her   for   even   thinking   that   of   him.           césar   does   neither,       only   tries   to   divert   her   attention…           he   hasn't   said   no,       hasn't   said   yes…         and   serena   knows.

         she   should   be   disgusted,       afraid   as   he   claims…         but   she   just   isn't.         whatever   he's   done   is   a   disconnect,       away   from   her   doe   eyes   and   flesh.         serena   has   always   cared   more   about   what   he   does   when   he's   right   in   front   of   her,       when   she's   within   his   clawed   -   grasp.            is   this   what   keeps   him   away   ?           why   ?           that   makes   him   up   and   go   without   a   sound   then   come   back   in   the   dead   of   the   night   to   crawl   between   her   sheets   and   devour   her   ?       —     

         he   grabs   her   jaw,       fingerprints   pressed   into   her   rose   -   pale   skin.         the   suddenness   of   it   makes   her   gasp,       but   césar   is   surely   attuned   enough   to   know   it   has   less   to   do   with   fear   and   more   the   delight   at   his   touch,     regardless   of   how   rough.

       ❛       i   do,       i   do   want   this,     ❜                 serena   murmurs,     pushing   forward   to   sit   on   his   lap,     calves   on   either   side   of   his   thighs,       chest   to   chest   as   she   leans   in   closer.         but   she   never   shakes   her   head   of   his   touch,     only   leans   into   it.

         ❛       just   tell   me   the   truth.     ❜         tell   me   the   truth,        lover,       so   every   night   can   be   like   this.

         her   grip   on   his   collar   brings   him   down   to   her   height,       and   serena   is   not   afraid   to   use   that   against   him.                    ❛       non,       petit   hughie,     ❜                 the   nickname   she   copies   from   frenchie   is   just   as   accented   in   her   sweeter   tone.                 ❛       before   you   do   something   like   this,    do   you   really   want   to   explain   yourself   to   william   and   dogmeat   ?     ❜