hey friends! i'm queer-fictions (you can call me rat, brian or queer 🫶), i'm in my 20s, and i'm a gay trans man from canada currently studying film and television production with a focus on post production. this blog is going to be a bit of a mix of things as i hop from fandom to fandom like crazy! i will flirt!! tell me to fuck off if you don’t want me to!!
i'm a fanfic writer and am always looking for more friends/moots from the fandoms you see me posting about! for the most part i post my works here, however my other blog @queer-fictions-archive hosts my fics as well as some of my recs! you can also find me on ao3 here. if you want my insta or discord, just dm me for it!
a LOT of what i post is NSFW content, whether that's my fic writing or me hornyposting, so i ask that only people over 18 interact with my blog. minors will be blocked.
when it comes to my writing, i do not write female readers or characters. given the lack of mlm fics in a lot of fandom spaces, i'll only write for cis!male, ftm, or gn!readers.
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ASKS - OPEN! feel free to send me hc ideas, fic requests, character asks, or even just chats! i love connecting with people here, so even if my asks are closed, my dms are always open! it may take a little while for me to get back on requests as i'm a full time university student, however i try my hardest to update in a timely manner!
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fandoms i write for:
bolded - most interested in writing
* - slightly unfamiliar with character, but willing to try
italics - may write for, but not as motivated to. send asks regardless as i'll get around to it eventually!
dragon age veilguard: emmrich volkarin, lucanis dellamorte, davrin*
cyberpunk 2077: goro takemura, viktor vektor, johnny silverhand
content:
this area is subject to change and updates! this is pertaining to smut content (what kinks i will/won't write). i feel this goes without saying, but i do not mean to kinkshame! the kinks i won't write are simply not my thing personally and i feel like i wouldn't be able to do the prompts justice because of that. most kinks are on the table even if they're not explicitly mentioned (as listing everything i write will take forever). if you're unsure about something, feel free to send an ask or dm regardless and i'll let you know! <3
will happily write: bondage, premature ejaculation, dacryphilia, somnophilia, breath play/choking, bootblacking, blood, breeding (fantasy), spit, cigar play (smoking/ashing/burning), pup play (to varying degrees), fantasy creatures (werewolves/vampires/demons/etc)
will not write: scat, detrans/most feminization, emetophilia, eproctophilia, feet, pregnancy, abdl
A/N: Inspired by this idea from @missleamori that would not leave my head. I may write a continuation of this someday, but either way, here's Omega misusing his quintessence a little. As a treat.
Pairing: Terzo/Omega
Content: Magic sex toys, semi-public sex (if you squint), size kink
Dating Terzo for long enough meant that Omega was not a stranger to the idea of using quintessence in creative and perhaps inappropriate ways, and though the Papa would refute the second notion - the magic Satan gifts His creations with is meant to be harnessed for the cultivation of sin, he argues - it's undeniable that the present utilization of the ghoul's magic, particularly the unique ability to link objects and people, is certainly innovative, at the very least.
And even better: the idea had come from Omega himself; perhaps Terzo was rubbing off on him.
"You… want to try to link that to me?" Terzo points to the fleshlight the ghoul had sheepishly presented him with.
"If you're okay with it - I can't imagine it would be that different than linking someone to a voodoo doll, and I've done that dozens of times. You'd be able to sever the bond on your own at any time, of course, and I'd be able to hear your thoughts in case you needed to stop anyway. I-I know this is kind of out there, but-"
He shushes the quint with a finger over his lips. "Let's do it," he smirks.
"Really?"
"Si - you're right, it's definitely unorthodox, but since when has that ever stopped us? This actually sounds quite interesting, if I'm honest; I'd be able to feel anything you did to this?" He taps the plastic of the fleshlight, cocking his head.
"Theoretically, yes. Again, I've never done this before, so I can't promise it'll work, but I can certainly try."
"Try away, amore," he wraps his arms around the ghoul's neck, sighing against his neck as he feels the telltale warmth of quintessence easing its way through his body, coalescing in where Omega's free hand rests on his ass.
"Alright, we should be good to go," Omega confirms, pulling back enough to look the human in the eyes as he blinks the lingering quintesssence-violet tint from his sclera.
"…Did it work?"
"One way to find out," the ghoul chuckles, lifting the fleshlight into view of the human still wrapped around him.
"What do you- oh." Had he not been leaning against the quint, Terzo is sure he would have hit the floor from the sensation of a sudden intrusion against his hole. "Fuck, yes, it worked," Terzo breathes, glancing up at the ghoul's index finger against the fleshlight mirroring the pressure against his rim.
"I figured," he laughs. "How does it feel?"
"Weird - I know there is nothing there, but I can feel you, like you're- hah," he moans as Omega cruelly chooses that moment to push his finger just hard enough to breach the toy, the lack of resistance meaning Terzo feels none of the pain that would usually accompany such a sudden stretch, only the intoxicating fullness. "-doing that," he finishes.
"Interesting," he nods, tone as casual as if Terzo was simply telling him about his day. "Hey, weren't you telling me earlier that you had some work you needed to get done in your office today? I distinctly remember you mentioning you'd been putting off some paperwork for quite a while, yeah?"
"You bastard," Terzo grabs for the fleshlight, which Omega lifts just out of his reach. "Ah-ah-ah, it would be a shame for you to have this distracting you, so I think I'll hang onto it till you're done with your work for the day."
"So this was your scheme, eh? Was this whole idea just a ploy to make my paperwork even more miserable?"
"Remember that time you had the bright idea to try to give me a handjob during Black Mass? This," he gestures to the toy with a smirk, "is revenge. Enjoy your work, love."
—
As much of a sudden shock as the sensation has been, the anticipation of waiting for it to inevitably happen again, Terzo has discovered, is even more distracting.
The stack of papers at his desk lays entirely forgotten as he taps his pen rhythmically against the wood, glaring a hole into the wall in front of him. Despite the period of inactivity - what could have been ten minutes or four hours, as far as he's concerned - his erection hasn't flagged, and the tension of waiting for what he knows is coming has served to keep him fully distracted from the work he set out to do.
Not that he thinks Omega truly expects him to get anything done, and frankly, he doesn't expect it of himself either.
Just as his mind begins to drift to other topics, namely ways to make the ghoul pay for this stunt in the near future, the feeling of phantom fingers at his rim has him jerking up straight in his chair. He grits his teeth as the ghostly touch circles his rim, because of course Omega would tease him even now, before biting back a groan at the unmistakeable sensation of a digit pressing into him, unyielding and magically unhindered despite his lack of prep.
"Cazzo," he hisses, as the finger seems to find his prostate effortlessly, something he is sure is a product of the ghoul's own knowledge of his body, quite literally inside and out, rather than a feature of the magic. He can practically see the self-satisfied smirk on Omega's face as the digit rubs against that spot relentlessly.
The Papa bites the flesh of his arm to silence a moan, reaching his other hand below his desk to unzip his rapidly-constricting slacks, palming himself through his boxers for a moment before thinking better of it; if he comes now, the rest of his afternoon will be truly miserable as the quint continues his endeavors.
Sooner than he would have without the magical connection between them, Terzo feels Omega slip a second finger within him beside the first, wasting little time before scissoring him open. His hips rut forward of their own accord, cock dripping a bead of pre into his boxers as he bites down harder, heedless of the marks he's sure he's leaving on his arm. His lust-addled brain unhelpfully supplies him with the reminder that he doesn't need to be stretched - even Omega's considerable size wouldn't cause him any discomfort in their current situation. No, this isn't for his sake, this is simply Omega displaying a cruel streak Terzo has never seen from the gentle giant of a ghoul.
Somewhere, a masochistic part of himself hopes this is not the last he sees of it.
As suddenly as they'd entered, the digits draw back, and Terzo can't quite halt the quiet whine the emptiness seems to force from him. The empty feeling doesn't last long, though, as he feels the unmistakeable sensation of a familiar bluntness prodding at his hole, just barely pushing in before pulling away.
"Fuck, fuck," he hisses, fruitlessly trying to chase the sensation with his hips in a manner he knows would have Omega chiding him for his impatience, as if the ghoul hadn't been tormenting him for at least the better part of an hour by now. The head nudges his rim again, this time continuing forward until Terzo is panting against the desk, head resting on his arms as he just keeps going.
Somehow, without the visuals of how much is left to go, the cock he's taken probably on hundreds of occasions by now feels impossibly larger, and just as Terzo is sure he can't take anymore, it stops. Every minute movement that Terzo assumes originates from the ghoul shifting the toy in his hands seems to graze perfectly against his prostate, sending jolts of pleasure straight up his spine that have him writhing in his chair.
But the ghoul's movements don't resume. Seconds seem to turn to minutes as Terzo tries in vain to clench around the phantom length, rocking in his chair to try to find some friction that just never comes. He can feel the puddle of precum staining his boxers with every mindless roll of his hips as his cock drools a steady stream into the fabric, turning discomfort to agony as he fights to catch his breath.
With nothing else to do, the fullness showing no signs of subsiding nor granting him the stimulation he chases, he picks up his pen in an effort to distract himself from his distraction.
As if on cue, barely halfway through an absently-read paragraph on the first page he'd grabbed, the phantom length draws back again, brutally slow in a way that only Omega would have the patience for, leaving him entirely empty once again.
"Nonono," he whines, silently begging the Olde One that the ghoul will have mercy on him.
His prayers are answered in the form of Omega slamming back into him, the force of his thrust sending him crumpling against the desk, pen and papers scattering across the surface as he barely fights off a screamed moan, absentmindedly thanking Satan for gifting him the forethought to lock his office's door on the way in; even disregarding his poorly-stifled gasps and whines, the conspicuous flush he's sure has bled through his face paint and the way he squeezes his thighs together would be unmistakeable in their own right to anyone with the misfortune of seeing him in his current predicament.
A predicament which Omega seems to remain intent on perpetuating as he sets an agonizingly slow pace, lazily drawing back before slamming into him with each thrust, just enough to keep him shaking with every movement but not quite enough to be satisfying.
Oh, fuck it.
Terzo reaches for his phone, fingers finding Omega's contact through muscle memory alone and pressing the 'call' button.
"Can I help you?" The ghoul picks up almost instantly, voice frustratingly unbothered, not bothering to halt his leisurely thrusting.
"Stop teasing me," Terzo grits out, "and get in here, now."
"Calling me to your office during work hours, are we? How scandalous," he teases, smirk audible through the phone.
"Just get over here before I-" he gasps, unimpededly moaning as a particularly cruel thrust directly to his prostate has him slumping against the desk.
"Before you what? Are you really in a position to be making demands? Your threats would hold a lot more force if you weren't on the verge of cumming alone in that fancy office of yours, Papa."
He groans, half a product of frustration and half the overwhelming onslaught of stimulation. "You are the worst," he hisses.
"Oh, I am, am I? In that case, I'm sure you'd prefer that I…" the sudden pausing of the accelerated pace Terzo had finally been gifted concludes his threat for him, the ghoul's length drawing back until only the head remained inside.
"Don't you fucking dare," he commands, though it comes out far closer to a whine than he'd ever admit.
"What, is this not what you wanted? You'll have to be more specific, I'm not a mind-reader." While the nature of the very magic he currently torments his boyfriend with renders this statement technically untrue, the Papa lacks the wherewithal to call him out on it, instead responding with a frustrated groan as his hips rut forward in a desperate search for friction that never comes.
"Just get your ass over here and fuck me."
"What do you mean? I'm fucking you right now, aren't I?" For emphasis, he eases forward just enough to tease the head of his cock over Terzo's prostate.
"Fucking- fuck- just get in here. Please," he adds, barely audibly.
"Pardon? Couldn't hear that last part," Omega teases, grinding against that spot cruelly just to hear the human whimper.
After a moment, the Papa's resolve crumbles and he begs, "Please come fuck me, Omega."
Over the phone, Omega chuckles. "As you wish, my love." The call ends and Terzo lets his head drop back onto his arms as the length quickly withdraws, leaving him once again with only the agonizing anticipation of whatever the ghoul had in store for him.
There's no excuse for this; I just wanted to torture Frater 🤭
MDNI
You were bored. Almost dangerously so. Looking over at Frater, wrapped up in a Ministry meeting on Doom, you smile deviously. You know people never have their cameras on in these meetings; as you consider him, a wicked idea forms in your mind.
You stand abruptly, causing him to look up quizzically from where he's sank into the cushions of the sofa. He raises an eyebrow but makes no comment as you saunter over, plopping yourself down with a sigh and snuggling next to him, resting your head on his shoulder.
Pressing yourself further against the heat of his body, you test the waters with a gentle squeeze of his thigh; he squeaks slightly, before clearing his throat.
'...mi dispiace, eh- nearly knocked my coffee over. Continue, please.'
Muting himself, he looks at you warningly as you smile innocently at him, teasing fingers wandering lightly over his crotch, and unbuckling his belt deftly.
His breathing shudders as you pull his shirt from under his waistband. Dipping your hand under the hem, you ghost your fingers over his skin, enjoying the soft curve of his stomach layered with thick hair.
'Better keep quiet, Frater,' you coo mockingly, 'wouldn't want them to know that you're getting off on the clock now, would we?'
His expression is murderous, yet a desperate grasp encircles your wrist as heat burns in his gaze. Holding you firmly in place, he spreads his legs as he reaches over to unmute himself.
Your fingers follow the soft path of hair under his waistline, carding through waves of dampened pubic hair as his thighs tremble. Deliberately avoiding his hardening cock, you graze your nails gently over his balls.
A soft growl is muffled into leather as heterochromatic eyes burn into your soul, the meeting long since forgotten. You smile sweetly as you squeeze soft orbs between your fingers, listening as Copia tries valiantly to disguise moans between murmurs of assent and clipped sentences.
'Concentrate, my love,' you breathe teasingly as you continue to torture him, 'this is important, isn't it?' He huffs as he swallows another groan, nearly drawing blood with how hard he's having to bite his lip.
Finally, you take pity on him, gripping him firmly, as you run a thumb over his leaking slit. He crams a fist into his mouth, muffling a cry of ecstasy as precum spills down the length of him, soaking into the material of his trousers.
He lunges for the mute button, barely catching it with the tip of his finger before he's lost to your touch. Rolling his hips lazily, he fucks into your fist, eyes fluttering closed as he chases his pleasure.
'Tesoro, ti prego...'
Nuzzling into him, you paint kisses up his neck to his ear, smiling indulgently as you speed up your motions. The meeting continues in the background, muffled by the lewd slide of flesh against slick flesh; the participants blissfully unaware of Copia's extra-curricular activities.
'Gonna cum for me, Papa?' you murmur teasingly as the rutting of his hips grows more frenzied. 'Gonna make a mess of yourself, hm? Imagine if they could see you now: their boss, cumming in his pants like a horny teenager...'
This is the final straw for Copia; his fingers grip the arm of the sofa to the point of breaking as his back arches upwards, lips parted in a long, blissful moan.
Thick ropes of cum spurt over your enclosed fist, saturating his already ruined pants. You don't relent, your hand fucking him through one release and into another, admiring the strangled cries tearing from his throat.
Eventually, he slumps backwards onto the sofa, utterly spent. His cheeks are tinted a dusky pink, delicate beads of sweat running down his face. Looking over, you both notice that the meeting has since ended, the computer screen blank.
Smirking, Copia gazes at you languidly, chest still heaving with exertion.
'It would seem they finished without me,' he muses, freeing his softening cock from the confines of soaked material. Toeing his shoes off, he lifts his hips, sliding his pants down his legs before throwing them aside.
Guiding you down to kneel before him, he manoeuvres himself forwards until his cock is inches away from your lips. He cups your cheek, using his thumb to gently open your mouth. The taste of leather combined with the scent of his arousal has your mouth watering, aching to taste.
'Now, vita mia, seeing as though you were the cause of this mess,' he teases, guiding his slick cock between your lips, 'I think it's only fair that you should clean up after yourself, hm?'
PLAGUE!!! ANYTHING QUINTOSIS WITH OMEGA AND TERZO AND MY LIFE IS YOURS!!!!
maybe some onstage teasing that leads to some after show fun? 👀
A/N: Full disclosure: I had been writing some Terzomega quintosis before I remembered you'd requested it, so this isn't exactly what you asked for - I hope it's satisfactory nonetheless!
Requests are OPEN - see my pinned post for guidelines!
NSFW Below the cut!
Silence is a rare commodity to Omega; even beyond his role as a ghoul, dating the third Papa means near-perpetual noise in every waking hour. Whether he's helping Terzo work through one of the songs on the set list he's less confident in, listening to him ramble and rant about whatever nonsense Sister had gotten on his case for, gossiping about what he'd caught his older brother doing during Black Mass, or simply just sharing a heartfelt conversation in the garden when the setting sun granted Terzo the chance to drop the mask and simply exist, it's quite uncommon that a quiet moment between them lasts long enough to be any more than a momentary lapse in conversation.
Omega can't blame him, of course - beneath the masking and the papal paints and the ceremony, the ghoul is well aware that to Terzo, his voice is one of the few defining features of him; not the former Cardinal, not Papa Emeritus III, not Nihil's bastard son, Terzo. Without his voice, without his constant stream of flirting and singing and joking to give audiences and acquaintances alike just enough of the real him to be satisfactory, Terzo fears the rest of his carefully-constructed facade may crumble under closer inspection.
Of course, the human's penchant for vocalizing doesn't exactly come with an off switch, so it's perhaps unsurprising that his endless noise follows the two of them into bed. Between the endless moaning and whining and begging and petulant commands, it's safe to say Omega knows no peace until the man is finally fucked out and sleeping soundly in his arms.
None of this is to say that Omega has any complaints whatsoever - in any context, he loves to hear Terzo's voice, be it screaming his name loudly enough to wake the whole Ministry or whispering a horrible sex joke into his ear mid-meeting, but the seemingly endless propensity of the man to break any silence does make moments of these all the more special, a rare treat to savor whenever the opportunity presents itself.
And savor this he does.
"Stay quiet," Omega commands.
Terzo's mouth flies shut, quintessence purple-tinted eyes squeezing closed as the ghoul's pace picks up, every thrust knocking the bed frame against the wall and the air from the human's lungs in harsh huffs through his nose. But sure enough, his mouth stays closed.
The idea had initially been Terzo's, unsurprisingly, proposed after a long day of whatever hell the Ministry had been putting him through. Omega had initially been hesitant - the level of trust displayed from his lover asking him to take control of his very mind, to force him out of his own head and let him be solely consumed by sensation, is not lost on the ghoul, and while they both knew Omega was more than capable of ensuring that none of Terzo's boundaries or consent was overstepped in the process, the prospect of literally mind-controlling the person he loves most in this world was a tough sell.
But Omega had never been good at denying Terzo anything he asked, and after much reassurance, he obliged. And seeing the man beneath him now, his body relaxed and devoid of the tension and stress that had weighed down his frame just hours earlier, visibly empty of all sensations except absolute ecstasy, and for once, totally silent but for the stuttered breaths in time with the ghoul's thrusts, Omega would be lying to say he regrets his decision.
"Fuck, you feel so good," the ghoul praises. "You like this? Like letting me into your head, feeling me wipe out all those pesky thoughts? Nod for me."
The human nods frantically, mouth falling open in a silent gasp.
"Yeah, it's nice, isn't it? Tell me how nice it feels."
"It's good, it's so good, love it so much," he whimpers.
Omega rewards him with a harsh thrust, adjusting his angle to perfectly target that sweet spot inside him. "I know you do, you needed this, didn't you? Just needed someone else to do the thinking for you for a while, let you focus on feeling. Tell me - what does it feel like?"
"'S like I'm floating," the man gasps. "Like I- hah- I'm empty and so full all at once," he answers dutifully, voice airy and unrestrained, as though the connection between his senses and his mouth skips his mind entirely.
"That's it, just let yourself feel it," Omega groans. "Drop a little deeper for me, okay?"
Immediately the Papa whimpers, eyes glazing over as the violet tint in his irises seems to darken even further, body going limp beneath him as the ghoul accompanies his command with a wave of quintessence to amplify the sensations already beginning to overwhelm the human.
"Shh, I've got you," he half-reassures, half-commands. "You look so pretty like this, y'know?" He asks, knowing his lover wasn't comprehending a word being said. "All relaxed and pliant, letting me give you what you need. I hate seeing you so stressed, my love - you work so hard, we all can tell, you take such good care of the Ministry and you deserve to be taken care of in return," the ghoul coos, running a hand through Terzo's sweat-soaked hair.
Omega could feel himself getting close, and judging by the involuntary shaking and twitching of Terzo's limbs that wrack his body with silent, overwhelmed sobs, the human's cock red and dripping a steady stream of precum where it bounces against his stomach with every thrust, he's not the only one. Adrift within the onslaught of sensations that seep through every crevice of his mind once reserved for self-doubt, insecurity, fear, all those things that his new role in the papacy had wrought, the man looks both positively wrecked and as at peace as Omega had seen him in ages.
He's almost tempted to draw this out, to keep Terzo awash in mindless pleasure until one of their bodies can no longer take it - he knows Terzo would have no qualms with this, not that it much mattered when every cell in his body had foregone his own instincts to respond solely to Omega's commands instead - but he knows that as much as Terzo needed this break from his own head space, he needs the restful sleep that follows even more.
"So good for me, amore," Omega groans, "come for me, let it out."
Terzo's eyes roll back into his head with a soundless scream as his cock kicks against his stomach before spilling entirely untouched, Omega following behind a few shallow thrusts later.
The ghoul catches his breath as they come down from their highs before slipping his spent length out of Terzo, biting back a groan at the sight of his spend leaking from the human's fucked out hole. Grabbing the tissue box on their nightstand, he perfunctorily wipes them down before collapsing beside his lover, taking the Papa's face in his hands.
"You with me, love? Can you look at me?"
The human's eyes blink open, violet meeting violet as the quint chuckles. "There you are. Come back to yourself, nice and slow."
The tension, though far less than before, returns to Terzo's limp body as the quintessence fades from his mind, eyes returning to their usual green and white. He blinks a few more times before smiling.
"Hello, tesoro," Terzo greets him.
"Hello," Omega laughs. "How are you feeling?"
"Mm, so much better," he sighs, curling closer to the ghoul. "Thank you for indulging me."
"Any time. Thank you for trusting me with this," he wraps his arms around the smaller.
"Any time - you know I trust you more than anything," he mumbles sleepily into his chest.
"I know, and I'm grateful for that every day."
"That makes two of us," he yawns. "Goodnight, cuore mio, I love you."
"I love you too."
As the comforting silence of sleep blankets them, Omega can't find it in himself to truly mind that these moments of quiet are as few and far between as they are.
You lock Copia in the living room for a little bit when the mailman arrives that morning. Seeing as he hasn’t been caged yet you don’t want to risk any further sudden snaps, and you’re able to get the package in with surprising ease. When you open the door with your hip you find him staring at the TV, grumpily, his favourite hobby of harassing the postal worker interrupted. His gaze is dragged to the box you hold.
“What have you got there?” he asks, trying not to seem interested as you open it up.
“It’s something for you, actually,” you say softly, heart rate spiking when you see the chastity device. His eyes go wide but his tail gives a single wag when you pull the item free.
“I… ah… oh,” he says. The impact is instantaneous and you can see his sweatpants tighten a little, which is good - this only works if you both consent to it. If you both enjoy it.
“What’s that?” he tries to play innocent but there is no hiding what you have. You incline your head to the side.
“Something to stop you being a naughty boy,” you hum, and he whines in a mix of torture and pleasure. “Present.”
The last part is an order from a human, not a request from his lover. Copia rolls onto his back, showing you his soft tummy and slightly twitching cock as he pulls up his shirt and down his slacks. It’s an easy manoeuvre to slip the cage onto his dick when it’s softened enough. You click it into place, lock it, and place the key on a chain around your neck.
Copia whines as you scratch his hairy stomach in a gesture of affection. He yips - puppyboys really like belly rubs.
“There we go, puppy. Can you be a good boy for me?”
“Yes, I can be,” he agrees, cage twitching as his poor cock tries to get hard and fails.
“Do you like that only I can tell you when you can cum?”
Tears of overstimulation make his eyelashes wet, but he nods in submission. You smile.
“Put yourself together, then. We’re going out.”
“We are?”
“We’re going to see Marie and Tobias again.”
He pouts but doesn’t growl, which suggests to you that the cage is already working its magic, and he comes willingly when the two of you head to the park. Marie was very gracious in agreeing to help you test out the effectiveness of your new device, and also agreed it would be good for Tobias to be around an older puppyboy to learn how to ground himself.
The two of them are waiting by the pond, where Tobias is attempting to chase the ducks good-naturedly. Marie glances up from her book and greets you with an embrace when she spots you.
“Hi, honey, I’m so glad you made it! And hello Copia, it’s good to see you again.”
“Hello Marie,” he greets with a polite nod. Tobias looks cautious as he approaches, but Copia extends a friendly hand towards him. “Tobias. I am sorry about how I, eh, treated you last time.”
He seems sincere. Tobias looks to Marie for confirmation and, when met with a nod, takes Copia’s hand in his.
“It’s okay. I get protective of Marie like you get protective of your human,” he says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Copia flushes, perhaps embarrassed at Tobias’s frankness or his own earlier behaviour, but it seems that the hatchet had been buried.
“Would you like to try and get ducks with me? They’re really fast so it’s pretty hard. I’ve only done it once ever but Marie made me let it go.”
“Ah, I am okay, thank you. I am past my duck harassing days. You go and have fun though,” Copia says kindly. Tobias runs off and Copia sits on the end of the bench and pulls out a book of sudokus instead, shaking his head in bewildered fondness.
Copia keeps himself busy with his puzzles as you and Marie catch up properly. She seems to be doing really well with Tobias, he’s good company for her and they’ve clearly bonded quite quickly. Her active lifestyle is more suited to a younger puppyboy and you’re so glad she’s found a connection with someone so devoted to her - it’s very sweet to see the way Tobias will trot back up now and then to show everyone a new stick he’s found.
“Can I keep this?” he asks Marie, who rolls her eyes but smiles.
“Baby, you have lots of sticks at home. If you take this one, you gotta get rid of one of the others.”
He pouts but acquiesces. It’s cute to see how he is totally wrapped around her little finger. It’s not entirely dissimilar to you and Copia.
On that note, your puppyboy is perfectly behaved all afternoon. He puts up with Tobias’s antics and eventually gives in and goes for a walk around the lake with him. It melts your heart to see Tobias talking to him so excitedly, bouncing around his newfound friend with such enthusiasm that his ears bob.
“I told you caging works,” Marie says with a knowing grin. You chuckle.
“You were right. Thank you so much, Marie, you’re a lifesaver.”
She chuckles and bumps against you with her shoulder playfully.
“Puppyboys can be a lot of work, but aren’t they so worth it?” she sighs, dreamily. You look across the lake to see that Tobias has waded into the water to go after a moorhen. Copia is attempting to join in from the bank so he doesn’t get wet, their tails wagging enthusiastically. You go awwww out loud.
“They sure are.”
Copia is a bit worn out by the time you leave, but seems to be happy, too.
“What did you think?” you ask him gently. He chuckles, cheeks rosy from exertion.
“Marie is kind… and Tobias is not so bad. Engergetic, but not so bad.”
“So the cage helped?” you drop your voice low. His face goes even redder.
“Sì. Yes. It eh, grounded me, I think. Thank you.” he looks like he might combust. It lights a fire between your legs.
“You were so well behaved, puppy. We’ll take it off when we get in and I’ll show you what good boys deserve.”
He moans.
And you do. The second the front door closes behind you, Copia’s mouth is on yours. You kiss enthusiastically, his tongue hot and wet against yours. It takes a moment for you to push him off long enough to free the key, then guide him to the sofa and pull down his slacks.
“Good boy, lovely boy. So obedient for me,” you tell him, undoing the tiny lock and releasing his cock. You immediately start to stroke it and he fully hardens in your palm, head lolling back in pleasure.
“Oh… oh, amore mio, you are… this is…”
“Is it a lot, puppy?”
He nods. You can’t imagine how relieving this must be after an afternoon of being locked away. Your hand speeds up and you swipe your thumb across his ruddy skin, gently laughing at the way he whines when you play with his sensitive slit. Pre runs down his length and soaks his balls and boxers, and he grips the sofa to steady himself.
“What do you want, Copia? Your reward for being so good?”
“Please… m-mouth…” he manages, eyes pleading. So you do. You drop down and take his tip between your lips, tonguing around his head, and it doesn’t take much for him to lose control.
“I’m… I’m gonna…”
You keep going as a sign of consent. He cums in hot streams down your throat and you make a show of swallowing which has him whining in joy. You mouth at the softening tip and then reach up to kiss him, letting him enjoy the dregs of his orgasm on your tongue.
“So lucky… I’m so lucky that you take such good care of me, amore mio…” he whispers. You think you’re pretty lucky, too.
Can I pretty please get a continuation of the breeding la creatura fic 😵💫 wanna see cum dripping out of his slit
Part 1
you can’t hope to match La Creatura’s strength— if he wanted to, he could push you back and take control of the situation in an instant, reversing your positions until it was you writhing on the bed beneath him. he’s done so before, multiple times in fact, purring and chittering at you as he uses your body for his pleasure.
it’s a testament to how much he’s enjoying himself, then, that he hasn’t yet done so here. that he’s still lying on his back against the blankets, looking up at you with a broken, needy whimper as you sink your cock into the warmth of his slit. his arousal leaks from its edges, purple slick covering your dick and dripping down onto the sheets around him.
“feel good?” you ask, even as you know the answer. his walls flutter around your length, milking you for all you’re worth as your hands find purchase on his hips so that you can thrust even harder, even deeper. La Creatura keens in the back of his throat, clearly beyond words, and you’re not going to last much longer with him twisting beneath you like this, so pretty as he’s fucked out of his mind.
your beloved creature, your sweet boy. he makes a choked noise as you reach out with one hand to wrap it around his own cock, pumping a few times in rhythm with your hips. it sends him over the edge and he’s spurting that lavender cum that stripes over his stomach and paints a surreal picture in front of you.
he seizes down around you and the tightness of his slit is just enough. you cum with a shout, buried deep inside him, pumping him full of your seed. La Creatura continues to fuck up on your cock, ensuring that he squeezes every last drop out of you.
by the time you come down, you’re panting as though you’ve run a marathon and he’s purring deep and rumbly. you give it a few moments longer, letting your cock go soft inside him before you pull out of his slit. as you watch, your own cum oozes out of his walls, pearlescent in the faint light.
unable to help yourself, you reach down to spread him with your thumbs once more, watching the way his body twitches. La Creatura whines, shaking beneath you, and one of his clawed hands reaches out towards you.
you kiss the tips of his razor-sharp claws, so deadly to others but always gentle with you. when you’ve had your fill of watching the way his body drips with your seed, you collapse beside him and pull him into your arms. he’s large enough that it takes some maneuvering, but soon you’re cradling his head close to your chest, peppering his face with kisses.
“enjoy yourself?” you hum, and all you get in reply is a happy chirping noise.
happy halloween!! i hope you enjoy the holiday!! 🫶🎃
trick or treat 👻 (dealers choice of papa!)
You got... tails! Happy halloween!
-
you hadn’t meant to do it. but it was done regardless, Copia’s favorite mug slipping from your grasp as you pull it from the dishwasher. it hits the marble floor of the kitchen with an ear-splitting shattering noise as the cup breaks apart into pieces too numerous to be counted. you’re left with your arm outstretched, staring at it as though you could take back the last few seconds.
he comes running in from the other room at the noise and you almost wish you could step in front of the carnage to hide it from him; but he gets a good look at what you’ve done the instant he sets foot in the kitchen.
there’s sadness on his face. pain. and you instantly feel terrible, though your rational mind tries to tell you that it’s nothing worth getting upset over. it’s just a cup— but you know that he treasured it as a memento of his mother, “Employee of the Month” written across it in a gothic font.
“i’m sorry,” you tell him and he nods but doesn’t speak. the silence stretches between you two so long that you find yourself fighting back tears at how clearly upset he is.
happy halloween! this idea was swirling around in my head for quite some time, and i have finally finished writing it! we hope you enjoy, and hail sithis!
cw: religion, ritualistic suicide, detailed gore
17th of Frostfall
I was born in blood; in death. I’ll never clean the blood from my hands. The crimson has seeped deep into my skin, it is now a part of me, and my soul. These hands have slit many throats, stabbed many hearts, broke many bones. I am the intermediary between life and death, man/mer and the Void. An instrument of death, in service of the Dread Father himself, Lord Sithis. Yet, I find myself in a predicament I could have never predicted. A citizen performed the Black Sacrament, praying to our Mother… praying for my demise. I have read much of our history, the known stories of Dark Brotherhood past, and yet I can’t recall a time in which this has happened. I am the first, the only assassin in the name of Sithis and the Night Mother who must lay their will upon themself. And I must say… I am honoured. To be chosen by the Void for taking others’ lives, and now, the last life I will take will be my own. Yes… I will carry this out with my own two hands.
23rd of Frostfall
After much thinking, I have decided on my own fate. With the all the lives I’ve taken, the souls I’ve sent to the Void, and my unwavering devotion to the Night Mother and the Dread Father, I believe I have earned the right to choose how I end my life. I just need a little more time to put the plan in place. I hope Sithis understands, and will wait patiently for my demise.
31st of Frostfall
This is it. On this night, the 31st of Frostfall, I will die. Everything is in order. I will create a gruesome scene, and it will be perfect. I have set up almost everything, including the traditional Black Sacrament arrangement. The candles, the book, the dagger, the nightshade. There’s only one thing missing: the body and its parts.
In a hidden chamber of the sanctuary, I will sit in centre of my display; myself as the final piece of it all. My heart beats quickly, but this feeling is not fear. No, my heart races with excitement. My whole time in service of the Dark Brotherhood, I had felt that my life was leading up to something important, something I did not know yet. With this contract placed upon me, I have found that this… this is it. The moment my whole life has lead up to. Some may think this to be a terrible circumstance, but make no mistake, this is exactly what I want. This needs to happen. I shall take the dagger, my dagger that has seen the loss of many lives, in my hand. With it, I will slice a shallow slit into my hand. This deep crimson I shall never cleanse from myself. No, after this night I will never have the chance. Next, I will drag my bloodied hand across the cold stone floor, creating a ring around myself and circling the lit candles. Then, I shall press my hand gently on my cheek, leaving a deep red hand print on my face. In anticipation of the end of it all, I will lay in the centre of my circle of fire and blood. The finale is almost upon me, and I simply cannot wait a longer.
A Note to All Brothers and Sisters
If you are reading this, you are at the scene of my gruesome death, my greatest creation. As you gaze upon my corpse, the metallic smell of my own blood is filling the air. So sickeningly sweet, so wonderfully grim. Please, admire my work, my utter devotion to the final moments of my life. Understand that this was not a choice, not a sad escape of my life. No, this was required. You see, as the Listener, the Night Mother whispered to me the name of an individual in the need of our services. Upon arrival, the bounty they placed happened to be on my own head. As terrible as it may seem, who am I to refuse someone’s prayers to our Lady? This was my preordained destiny. There was no running from this, from my fate. I had no desire to, which left me with only one option: to take my own life. As you can see with the scene before you, I have carefully planned every last detail of my death. You may look upon me, my flesh carved from my bones and my heart free from my chest. There must be so much blood. Admire my work, please, sing my praises to our Night Mother and our Dread Father. Tell them of my devotion, dedication to the art of death, and may my soul sleep soundly in the Void. I beg you to use my body, make use of the complete list of requirements to perform the Black Sacrament. If someone must die, let me be the vessel to hold the prayer. I promise, I will bear the prayer and deliver it to our Mother. Even in death, I wish to serve the sanctuary and Sithis. I beg you, don’t let me go to waste.
He is the altar at which you prostrate yourself. Your guiding light, your shepherd in this world. You’d do anything for him, but in return, you know he’d do the same for you.
Yes, he rules you absolutely. Yet there will be evenings where his firm grip softens, where he allows himself a moment of sweetness so he can remind you of how loved you are.
“Hmm… so very lovely, fiore mio…” Primo hums, dropping a kiss to your shoulder. The tenderness of his lips makes you shiver in anticipation, and you can feel his smile against your skin.
“Papa…” you whine, desperate for a firmer touch. His name is laced with a plea for more. He tuts, and it is as close to playful as he can get.
“I will take my time, tesoro. Your Papa wishes to worship you.”
Another kiss, this time on your collarbone. He runs a finger along your sternum as if he were tracing the width of your heart beneath.
“So wonderful for me. Soft, warm. Ah, fiore mio, how lucky I am that you’re mine forever.”
His hand continues its journey downwards, finally alighting on where you need him most… and oh, you are the lucky one.
You sit on his lap, grinding your sex over his hard length. Secondo grins as he leans back against the headboard, more than happy to let you pick up the reins for the evening and simply indulge in the pleasure of you.
“Ahh, Papa…” you make a show of moaning, of playing up the role of his wanton little pup. “I love the feel of your fat cock beneath me… I love what I do to you, how turned on you are…”
“Oh? You like having me at your mercy, do you, little lamb?” he chuckles, but from the way his pupils are blown wide, you can see he's hanging on every word.
“Mm-hmm… it’s my favourite thing when you’re inside me, Papa. I like feeling you fuck me so hard that I can’t remember my own name. Love it when you fold me in half and show me who I belong to… but I also like riding you. Feeling you warm and deep in my guts.”
You lean forwards and press your lips to the shell of his ear so you can whisper the next part.
“And when you cum in me, it drives me wild. I like feeling it drip out for the rest of the day.”
With a growl, Secondo grabs your hips and flips you over. No more honeyed words drip from your tongue… just moans.
When you ask him to give you private Dark Communion, there is no doubt about what it is you’re really after. And what sort of Papa would Terzo be if he didn’t look after the most beloved member of his flock?
He reads his rites from behind the lectern, voice echoing through the empty Sanctuary, and when he has finished the Devil’s Eucharist, he beckons you forth with a crook of his gloved finger. The gold nails glitter seductively and it is so easy to fall to your knees before him.
The taste of wine dances across your palate but it is not what you really want to taste. Terzo sets down the chalice and takes one of the wafers, grinning as he holds it devilishly close to your lips.
“Open, amore mio.”
You do, sticking your tongue out, the picture of obedience and piety. But instead of soft bread hitting its warm plain, instead he presses a finger to it. You moan at the flavour of leather as he slicks himself up, humming as you soak his glove with your spit. It drips from the corner of your mouth and onto the floor beneath you both.
“Such a good little thing for your Papa,” he mutters, pressing his fingers back further. Your gag reflex has long been tamed at this point and you simply let yourself enjoy the feeling of his glove in your mouth. It sends a throb between your legs to let him use you like this.
It is Dark Communion after all… you’re happy to take what he gives you.
“Please. Please, I’ve been good, haven’t I?”
Copia looks up at you like a dog would when it’s begging your penance for being naughty. It makes your stomach light on fire, to be honest: to see him sitting nude at your feet, naked except for his poor, straining little cock against the bars of its cage.
You had to put it on him. He couldn’t stop touching himself when you weren’t around, and you couldn’t have that, could you?
Couldn’t have poor Papa forgetting who he belonged to.
“I don’t know, do you deserve it? Have you been well behaved enough?” you ask, pressing your toes against the metal and grinning when he whines. He nods so hard that he threatens to give himself whiplash.
“Please, amore mio, I haven’t cum for weeks… I’ve not touched myself all month… I feel like I’m going to explode!” his words are garbled with need and it does turn you on to hear him beg…
But you’re still not sure he’s learned his lesson.
“Then you can last more day, I think,” you say with a nod, and he sobs.
Papa V Perpetua is a god onstage. He commands an audience like he was born to do it. A natural entertainer, he is able to hold a crowd in the palm of his hand.
You are the one who knows what brings him to his knees, though. What makes pleas fall out from between those lovely lips of his.
“Oh… oh!” Perpetua whines, fingers gripping the edge of the dressing room couch as hard as he can in order to try and ground himself. You’ve told him he has to keep his hands to himself if he wants to cum, but you know how desperate he can be when he’s in the throes of pleasure.
Your mouth seals around his t-dick and sucks. It twitches in your mouth responsively and you feel yourself grin into him as his thighs tighten around your head.
“Please, my heart, I need more…” he begs. You look up at him from between his legs and raise a brow, knowing that your lips and chin are already soaked with his slick.
“Hmm? You need me here, perhaps?”
With that you lick a stripe across his hole and he nods with such enthusiasm that all of his ringlets bob. So you decide to be merciful. You press your tongue into his twitching entrance, tasting his wetness from its source, and you are blessed with the most melodic moan.
Three times, you think. You’ll make him cum three times from this. He deserves a treat after putting on one hell of a show.
A little Retired Terzo body worship for you all this evening ♡
MDNI!
Worshipping Terzo's body after you've both showered, admiring how age and retirement has enhanced him. Pulling the towel away from his ample waist and reaching for him, unable to be away from the warmth of his body for too long.
Massaging the swell of his pecs, pressing your hands into thickened skin. Enjoying his slight shuddering exhale, you watch how his eyes flutter closed as you graze over his nipples with your nails.
Kneeling before him, your name is sighed into the air as you move further downwards to his rounded stomach, chasing the silvery stretchmarks decorating his hips and belly with open-mouthed kisses and soft brushes of your fingers.
Mouthing at thick layers of hair, dark threaded with grey, you blow warm air gently over him, watching as goosebumps etch his desire onto his skin.
Pausing before you reach where he aches for you the most, you look up at him mischievously as you hear his voice catch on a groan. Wrapping an arm around each of his thighs, your fingers massage over lithe muscles embraced by layers of hedonism.
Grasping the thickness of his ass in your hands, you fuck him into your mouth, murmuring soft praises in between languid flicks of your tongue and soft grazes of teeth.
As you've come to realise, with age comes increased sensitivity which you adore. Using your lips, you trace every soft vein up the underside of his shaft, collecting the precum flowing down the length of him.
Murmured curses pour into the air as Terzo's dexterous fingers tangle into your hair. Delicate, sensitive flesh undulates under your tongue as he spills down your throat, excess pearlescent drops leaking from between your lips.
Smiling lazily down at you, he thinks that maybe retirement isn't that bad, after all...
A/N: Holy shit, Plague can write fluff? Stop the presses! Yeah, this one came out a lot softer than I expected, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless, even if no one was sobbing by the end, which seems to be my MO at this point.
It's certainly not uncommon that you wake up like this, but the novelty has yet to wear off.
As you drift into consciousness, the first sensation you're aware of is the sound of breathy, quiet whimpers and the tickle of warm breath against your ear. The next is a very familiar rutting against your ass, and a noticeable wetness against your pajamas informing you that the source of your awakening has been at this for a while.
You place your hand over his where it rests on your hip, turning to face him as his movements still.
"Good morning, love," you hum, not bothering to suppress the fond smile you're sure is plastered across your face as you take in the sight of your boyfriend, curled hair sweat-drenched and sticking to his face, the blush across his unpainted cheeks reaching down to his chest where it's still pressed against yours.
"G'morning, fuck, sorry for waking you up, honey," he rasps.
"It's alright, you did a good job keeping quiet for me, don't let me stop you," you praise, slotting your thigh between his.
He whimpers, hips stuttering back to their previous pace, sweat and pre slicking your thigh with every slow drag.
"So worked up already, Pet, had you been doing this for long?" You tease, already knowing the answer.
"Couldn't help it, y'look so cute when you sleep, I just- oh Satan," he gasps as you press your thigh just hard enough to shift the friction he'd been seeking from not quite enough to almost too much.
"Aww, it's alright - we've talked about this, you know I'm always alright with you taking what you need like this," you give him a gentle peck on the lips, smiling at the shiver your affection earns you.
"I know, jus' wanted to let you sleep in," he gasps, the pace of his hips growing more erratic.
"Always so thoughtful," you praise, "my darling lover."
"Fuuuck," he groans. "Say it again."
"Say what? You want me to tell you how thoughtful you are? How well you take care of me? How gorgeous you look, rutting against my thigh just to be good for me?"
He keens at the praise, pressing his forehead to your shoulder and gripping your hips tighter. "Sweetheart, please," he begs.
"You want me to tell you how much I love you? Because I do," you continue. "I love everything about you - I love how attentive you are, I love how hard you work for me and for the Ministry, I love your voice when you're serenading your fans almost as much as I love it when you're falling apart for me, and I love getting to see your beautiful face every morning when I wake up - especially like this. I love you, Pet."
"Shitshitshit, I can't- I'm gonna-"
"Gonna come for me?"
He nods shakily, his pace slowing as he looks up at you through hooded, tearful eyes. "Please, love."
"How could I say no to a face like that?" You chuckle. "Go on - be a good boy and come for me."
His hips stutter through a thrust once, twice, and then he's spilling across your thigh and onto your shirt with a whine.
As he catches his breath against your shoulder, you run a hand through his sweaty hair. "Hell of a way to start the morning," you tease.
"Could you be convinced to go back to sleep?" He smiles up at you with a yawn, snuggling a little closer, heedless of the mess between you. "I think we've earned some extra shut-eye."
"I'm inclined to agree," you laugh. "I still want to sleep in."
It's not uncommon that your mornings go something like this, but you'd be perfectly content to wake up this way for the rest of your life if you had the choice - and the sleepy smile of the man wrapped around you suggests you're not the only one.
--
Tag list: @queer-fictions @assmaster37 (Drop an ask or a comment to be added or removed!)
A/N: Plague stay consistent and post every day challenge (impossible). Anyway here's some CNC, which is definitely super rare for me and not like. The thing I'm known for. (/sar) (Admittedly, writing Secondo IS rare for me, and bottom Secondo is rare in general!)
Pairing: Bottom!Secondo x Top!GN!Reader
You're willing to admit you may have gone too far.
As you grin down at the Papa beneath you, hands bound above his head and legs tied spread-eagle to the bed posts, sobbing out pleas for mercy as he had been for what has to be nearing an hour by now - mercy you, of course, have denied him by means of the vibrating cock ring around his weeping length keeping release just out of reach - it's apparent that you may have reached the point a reasonable person would have acquiesced to the pained wailing of the man beneath them quite a while ago.
But, in your defense, Secondo has yet to say the one word that could end the misery, nor has he taken any of the chances you've given him to call it off, so you'd forged ahead.
"What, so you can dish it but you can't take it?" You tease.
"Cazzo, per favore, too much," he sobs.
You pout, thumbing over the buttons on the remote controlling the vibrator currently pressed to his prostate. "But we haven't even tried out the highest setting!"
"No, please-"
You pay his begging no mind as you turn up the vibrations, raising it to nearly the highest setting for just long enough to watch his back arch, writhing with a near-scream as his cock pulses uselessly against his stomach.
"Too much, too much, stop!"
"Aww, you don't mean that," you giggle, dropping the vibrations to their previous level. "I think you can take a little more."
The pained whimper that leaves his lips is something real, and you pause your exploits with a frown. "Color, love?"
"Green, fuck, very green - I promise I will tell you if it changes," he reassures you.
You nod with a fond smile. "Alright, I trust you."
And with that, you're back to your torment, bumping the vibrations up a few notches and smirking at the choked gasp you earn.
"I love seeing you like this, you know," you admire, your tone as nonchalant as if you were simply complimenting his outfit. "For all the shit you put me through, it's nice to see you on the receiving end for once."
"Please, amore, I- fuck," he gasps as you grasp his cock, thumbing over the head to spread the abundant precum across his shaft.
"It's surprising how quickly you started begging, though," you hum. "From someone as commanding and stone-faced as the Papa Emeritus II, I would have expected at least some semblance of dignity, but you really didn't put up much of a fight at all! I wonder what your congregants would think if they saw you like this, spread open and sobbing just from a few toys and some mean words."
"Tesoro, I cannot take it, just-" his pleas go unanswered as you turn the vibrator up to the maximum with a cruel laugh.
"Oh, I think you can - you don't have much other option, do you?"
"Please, mi dispaice, just stop this, I will do anything," he sobs.
"Anything, huh?" You cock your head, pretending to consider.
"Anything, just please-" You silence his words behind a wail as you remove the ring around his cock, barely stroking once before he's spilling across his chest, his own spend nearly reaching his chin, with a screamed moan that you're sure will follow you into your dreams.
As he shakes through the comedown, you turn off the vibrator still inside him and chuckle at the pathetic whimper he fails to stifle.
"Don't get too comfortable there," you tease, tossing aside the toy and unzipping your pants. "I was promised anything, after all, and I expect you to deliver."
--
Tag list: @queer-fictions @assmaster37 (Drop an ask or a comment to be added or removed!)
Copia stops sleeping next to your bed and starts sleeping in it and, oh! It is his favourite thing. How he loves to start each morning curled protectively around you, knowing that he can keep you safe from the world. He wakes with his cock hard and leaking most days just because such close proximity to you sets him aflame, but the two of you rut it out in bed together and he gets to go around carrying the scent of your orgasm for the rest of the day.
He thinks he might strain his tail soon, he simply can’t stop wagging it.
But, he hasn’t fucked you yet. The idea of it is simply overwhelming to him. If he knew how it felt to be inside you, to be encased in your heat and hugged tight by it, he’s sure that he would never leave your bed again. He’d keep you there forever, pleasured and loved and full of him. He barely wants to let you go even now. You are his perfect human, his his his.
So yes, for the moment, this is enough. In fact, if this was all there was, it would be perfect.
You’re just as happy too, content to spend your days with your puppyboy, walking on air from joy. It isn’t just that he seems to make it his duty to make sure you cum at least once a day - though admittedly that is remarkably sweet of him - it’s that he really is devoted to you. He plods around the house after you with a lovestruck, dopey grin which has you melting, will sit outside your office until you’re done with meetings and he can be in the room with you again. On days when you have to go into work in person he’s constantly texting you and you make sure to call him on your lunch break, and he’s so excited just to hear your voice.
You’ve had a couple more visits from the shelter and they seem very happy with your progress together. The fact you’re in a relationship doesn’t seem to surprise your case worker; in fact she’s very pleased for you both and can tell the feelings you harbour for each other are mutual. It’s pretty much settled: Copia has found his forever home with you.
It’s when you’re coming home from a shopping trip that the first non-perfect incident occurs.
Copia is helping you carry your grocery bags to the car when you pass your friend Marie who you’ve not seen for a couple of months - and you’re pleasantly surprised to see that she’s also adopted a puppyboy. Hers is younger, maybe in his twenties, ears pointed upwards and curly tail practically spinning.
“Oh hey, how are you!” you say, bringing her in for a hug.
“I’m pretty great, to be honest! This is Tobias, he’s my puppyboy. Do you wanna shake, honey?” Marie directs the last part to Tobias himself and he immediately sticks out a hand towards you.
“Yeah! Hi, I’m Tobias, it’s super good to meet you!” he closes the gap so you can reach his hand more easily to clasp it - but then Copia steps in between the two of you.
“Get away from my human!” he snarls, and snaps at poor Tobias, who yelps and hides behind Marie. You gasp, boggling at Copia.
“Copia!” you gasp, horrified. He can immediately tell he’s fucked up, falling back behind you, but won’t stop glaring at Tobias. You turn to Marie.
“I’m so, so sorry! He’s never done this before…!” you say, humiliated. She waves the problem away with her hand, and you see that there’s a knowing look on her face.
“It’s fine, babe. I’ll text you, okay?”
You put the shopping in your car and Copia follows along dutifully, quiet. You shake your head when it’s just the two of you.
“I’m sorry,” he mutters, but he still sounds grumpy.
“Copia, you can’t do that, honey. That’s not how we act towards other puppyboys, is it?”
“He was coming at you, coming near you! Wanted to touch you!”
“To say hello, Copia! He wasn’t trying to kiss me or anything.”
Copia growls. You stare at him, and he crosses his arms over his chest like a petulant child.
“Just wanna make sure you’re safe…” he mutters. You sigh and the rest of the drive home is in silence, the radio playing gently in the background to try and mask the discomfort. He takes all of the bags in for you, a silent gesture of apology… and you see you have a text from Marie when you open your phone.
Marie: Your puppyboy is new, right? Have the two of you only gotten together recently?
You watch Copia unpack the groceries for a moment before you shoot off a reply.
You: Yeah, only a couple of months since he moved in, a couple of weeks since we started…
You look at the screen. Dating? Is that the right word? You’ve sort of already made a life commitment to him, so it’s more than that, really.
You: Yeah, only a couple of months since he moved in, been together a couple of weeks. Is it that obvious? I’m so sorry about Tobias, is he ok?
Marie: Nothing some belly rubs won’t fix haha. He was the same when we got together. The thing is puppyboys can get real territorial real fast. They wanna protect their humans, you know? There’s a couple of good ways to train them if you’re together though. Cages worked wonders for Tobias.
She sends you a few links through, and as you wonder about the logistics of caging Copia in a crate overnight, you click on the first one…
And feel yourself get warm as you see it’s taken you to a cock cage site.
You take a moment to scroll through what she’s sent over. Apparently cock caging puppyboys has been scientifically proven to help calm them down, keep their possessive urges for their humans under control. It also seems that puppyboys really, really enjoy being caged by a human they trust. It can be a wonderful bonding exercise and bring you closer.
Puppyboys respond very well to being trained. Maybe that’s what Copia needs from you, a firmer hand…
Plus the idea of him letting you keep him in line makes you throb.
“Tesoro?” he asks from the door, scuffing his shoe against the carpet. “I’m sorry about earlier. I just don’t like it when people come near you like that…”
“No, fiore mio. I told you what you have to do if it gets too much.”
You grimace at the painful twinge in your bladder. Primo made you drink two full glasses of water in quick succession about forty minutes ago and he’s been toying with you since, sitting you on his lap with your back to his chest. His hand works between your legs at an excruciating pace, keeping you hovering on the edge of pleasure without letting you tumble over it.
When you do, you know what is going to happen. Your poor abdomen aches at the effort of holding your pee. It is humiliating.
You’re also not sure you’ve ever been more aroused in your life.
“Papa, please…” you try once more, hoping he will grant you pity.
“I said no, hm? Listen to your Papa.”
With that his hand speeds up, and you know you can’t take any more of this. You try to fight off your orgasm but find it being ripped out of you… and as you do you feel yourself letting go. With a pathetic little wine your orgasm bursts out of you along with a steady, warm stream of piss. It soaks the both of you and you find yourself sobbing in embarrassment.
But when Primo presses a kiss into your shoulder, you can feel his smile.
“Well done, cuore mio.”
A gentle clearing of his throat knocks you out of your reading. You look up at Secondo, always made pleasantly warm over just how big he looks from this angle. He is an imposing man, certainly, but when you’re sitting at his feet and staring up at him, it is as if he takes up your whole world.
He holds out his cigar between two thick fingers, the ember at its end smouldering expectantly. You wait for your cue: your mouth, or your hands?
It is answered in silence. He brushes your lips with one of his knuckles, careful not to burn you unnecessarily. Dutifully you open wide and present the warm plain of your tongue for him to do with as he pleases.
Secondo smiles and taps the end of his cigar. The ash falls onto your tongue like snow, scalding and grounding in equal measure. It is a sharp pain that you’re used to by now, and obediently, you swallow it down without complaint.
His hand falls to your head as he pets you, pleased with your submission. You grin and nuzzle into his touch.
“Good pup,” he rumbles.
Secondo can err on the cruel side of strict at times, but when you behave for him? Oh, he will show his appreciation for you all night long…
Papas are Satan’s mouthpiece on earth. Mortal lords of hell. Devils, in their own way. So they are physiologically… blessed by the Old One, too.
Terzo rams his cock home into you, your hole making wet, used sounds from between your legs. It is slick and filthy and perfect. He grins down at you when you peer up, throwing you a wink in the heat of the moment which has fond laughter bubbling up from your chest.
“Terzo… I want it…” you whine, desperately aware of the swelling at the base of his length. He hums, playfully.
“I don’t know, baby, have you earned it…?” he teases. The idea of not feeling him expand inside you is suddenly more than you can take and, with a show of strength he isn’t expecting, you reach up to grab his shoulders and flip him onto his back. Terzo goes with an oof, and stares up at you with wide-eyed awe as you start to bounce on every inch he has to offer.
“Give me your fat knot,” you snarl. His mouth pops open into a little “o” before he beams.
“Anything you want, amore mio…”
“Like eh, this?”
“Oh, no, baby. A little higher…”
You gently move Copia’s exploratory fingers where you need them between your legs, and he is rewarded with your moan of pleasure as he strokes. When you first got together you were not expecting him to be a virgin - fancy that, of the head of the Satanic church! - but it became apparent that he was an eager student and you were more than happy to teach him.
He lies next to you, both naked, and you can see how much your enjoyment of the situation is affecting him. His cock is rock-hard and ruddy red, gently leaking onto your thigh as he works to bring you to a soft orgasm. You tangle your fingers in his chest hair and tug a little, eking out an oh! of unexpected excitement. A gush of pre dribbles onto your leg and Copia goes to hide his face in the soft nook of your neck and shoulder.
“No, no, baby, I wanna see you,” you whisper, tilting his chin back up to look in his eyes.
“Sorry… you’re just so lovely, you know?” he whispers, rapt in his adoration of you. You plant a gentle kiss on his lips.
“If you can make me cum, I’ll show you what it’s like to get it sucked,” you state, running a finger along his length, and Copia squeaks.
He is so much bigger than you like this, and yet he keeps you ever so safe. His favourite treasure. His most precious thing.
Your chest is planted into the bed, hips up for ease of access, neck craned to the side so you can see where his claws make divots in the mattress. They’re wickedly long, eight inches of vicious keratin, yet they’ve never once nicked you during lovemaking. He is so incredibly tender when the two of you are entwined in bed.
There’s a sniffling noise and Perpetua halts the movement of his hips, cock nestled deep within you as he moves his muzzle down to your face. He scents your neck and his tongue softly slips out, tasting the sweat you’ve worked up. He lingers there until you realise what he needs from you.
“I’m okay, baby. I want you to keep going,” you whisper, reaching up in order to pat his cheek. He chitters in joy, leaving you with one final lick before he withdraws to his position behind you and begins pistoning his ridged cock in and out of you like he was put on this earth to do it. You hum in pleasure and let the sensation of his love wash over you.
Getting back from work and seeing Terzo reclined on the couch in front of a roaring fire, lost under the spell of his newest novel.
Admiring the way the flames flicker and dance across the wrinkles on his handsome face. Watching as his lips turn up into a soft smile of acknowledgement, his eyes not quite able to pull away from the salacious story unravelling in front of him.
Snagging your lip between your teeth, you undress slowly, walking over and kneeling in front of him. Almost automatically, he spreads his legs to accommodate you, purring as your thumbs knead into the plushness of his thighs. Mouthing softly at his cock over his trousers, you smirk as a small gasp escapes into heated air.
And yet, he carries on reading, his hardening length twitching against your cheek as you reach under his shirt. A hum of pleasure escapes him as you knead your fingers into the roundness of his stomach, enjoying the feeling of soft fire warmed skin and downy hair.
'Tricky, tricky, cucciolo,' he purrs, shifting himself subtly into your touch. Mismatched eyes meet yours, shimmering wickedly behind his glasses.
'Is this what you want, my insatiable little devil?' he enquires, palming himself teasingly. You nod eagerly, nuzzling your face into his crotch, already drunk on the scent of him.
Your mouth waters as he toys with his zipper, precum darkening the soft linen of his pants. Leaning forwards, you mouth over him again, trembling as you hear him groan above you.
The sharp rasp of his zipper breaks the spell, and you crawl up onto his lap, fucking yourself onto him before he has time to think. His book hits the floor with a thud as his arms wrap around you.
Rocking his hips slowly, his eyes flutter closed as he loses himself in you, his breaths falling in small whimpers and groans. He tries so hard to make it last; desperate to keep you here in this moment, where nothing else matters in the world.
All too soon, you feel his movements slow and stop, as he pulls you infinitely closer. An ecstatic moan is muffled into your neck as his cock kicks inside you, coating your walls in his release.
You smile softly against his shoulder as you tangle your fingers together, feeling your heartbeats slow as you melt into each other. You shiver as soft lips paint kisses up to your ear, ending in a teasing chuckle.
Contains: breeding kink, degradation kink, praise kink, and an unexpected amount of fluff
A/N: Yes, I know, I missed yesterday - at this rate, my kinktober is going to extend well into November, but I expect no complaints because that just means more fics to read and more kinks to explore! Shoutout to Levi @assmaster37 for being my beloved fount of endless ideas once again, and enjoy <3
"Hey pretty boy, you come here alone?"
Terzo greets the would-be hookup with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "Oh, me? Sorry, I am not - my table's just over there," he gestures to the booth you and the eldest two Emeritus siblings had taken residence in, close enough to the exit for Primo's ever-vigilant comfort, but close enough to the bar to be convenient for refilling drinks, a task Terzo had taken upon himself after noticing that yours had been emptied.
"Oh, I'm sure they won't mind if I keep you a little while," the man presses on, "can I buy you a drink?"
"Mi dispaice, I appreciate it, but I am just here to grab my lover a refill," he nods back to you.
The man chuckles, placing a hand on Terzo's hip. "C'mon, I think I could give you a better night than-"
"I think," he interrupts, "you should go find someone else to bother. And a breath mint, while you're at it."
The appalled look on the man's face earns a laugh from Terzo as he storms off, your boyfriend turning back to the bartender to continue his task.
From just within earshot of the bar, you watch the interaction unfold. It wasn't a new experience for you to see your boyfriend being flirted with - with the position he holds within the Ministry, it's very much familiar territory by now, and any jealousy you may have once felt is assuaged by watching him return to your side again and again - you have no doubt in your mind that none of his admirers are worth concerning yourself over; between how he'd watched Nihil's infidelity spawn a cascade of hurt that overflows within all of his sons, and how Terzo had made it abundantly clear to you from the moment you'd begun dating how absolutely enamored with you he truly is, you know that no matter how he may behave onstage, it'll always be you who he'll be crawling into bed with at the end of the day.
"I do not know how you did it," Secondo shakes his head. "It remains a mystery to me."
"What?" You ask.
"That," he gestures to the sight unfolding in front of you. "You've got him wrapped around your finger - if I did not know better, I would have no idea that was the man with the reputation of, uhm, how did Alpha put it?"
Primo chuckles. "'The Ministry bicycle' was the phrasing he used, I believe."
"Right," Secondo nods, his usual stone-faced seriousness giving way to the slightest of smiles as you fail to hold back your laugher.
"So how did you do it? What unholy magic have you mastered to have my brother at your beck and call like some sort of dog?"
You shrug with a smile as Terzo returns to the table, placing your drink in front of you.
"They were out of the brand you prefer, amore, but I believe you ordered this at that bar in California and you seemed to enjoy it, so I hope it will suffice."
"It's perfect," you hum, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Thanks, darling."
He smiles, the relief palpable on his face. "Of course, tesoro."
From across the table, you catch Secondo's mumble. "Like a fucking dog."
—
"Bark."
Terzo complies as soon as the words leave your mouth, not a moment's hesitation between your command and his eager yips as you chuckle down at the man on his knees below you.
"Good boy," you praise. He whines, hips rutting forward into the empty air as his neglected cock leaks another drop of precum onto the bedroom floor. "What, you want something, pup?"
He nods, a downright pathetic pout paired with those puppy eyes you'd grown to love as he whimpers up at you.
"Go on then, beg for it," you order.
"Please, amore, I- ghk," his words are cut off with a choke as you give a harsh tug to the leash clipped to the collar around his neck, the tag bearing your name clinking against the metal clip as he's jolted forward, very nearly losing his balance.
"Ah-ah-ah," you tut. "Dogs don't talk. Try again."
You loosen the slack to his leash and he's gasping in a breath before barking once again, his needy baying answered with a laugh.
"Aww, does my pup want a treat?" You coo patronizingly. He whimpers.
Secondo, you figure, had been right - in more ways than he was aware of, perhaps. In public, even basking in the attention his stage presence bestows, his devotion to you is never in doubt among any who know him, or even simply those who see the way he looks at you as if you'd hung the stars, and clings to your side as such.
But behind closed doors, adoration becomes devotion, unquestioning obedience long since devoid of embarrassment, no matter what you would have him do. There's no space for shame or doubt in his mind when he sheds his responsibilities, his stage persona, all the layers of masks he wears for public consumption and lays himself bare before you, consumed solely by the desire to do right by you.
It's a ritual and a sort of therapy for him, you know, to bask in moments like these where he's permitted to stop being Papa and simply be yours.
"How could I say no to a face like that?" You chuckle. "Present."
He's off the floor and on the bed in an instant, on his knees with his face pressed into a plush pillow that you have no doubt will be stained with tears and drool by the end of the evening. He arches his back in a transparent attempt to convince you to move things along, the tail plug inside him swinging between his legs with the movement.
"Atta boy," you tease, tracing a hand down the length of his spine, leaving goosebumps in your wake. "So obedient for me, so eager to get knocked up like a bitch in heat." He moans as you couple your words with a twist of the plug inside him, a taste of the friction denied to him for so long having him rocking back against your hand in a silent plea for more.
Instead, you draw the plug all the way out, tutting as he whines at the loss.
"None of that now, pup, be a good boy and be patient."
He turns his head, craning his neck to look at you, looking very much the part of a kicked dog, wet eyes and dejected pout drawing an answering frown of your own.
"Oh don't give me that look, puppy - you know I'll take care of you," you coo, pressing a gentle kiss to the base of his back.
The sound of your zipper has Terzo's cock twitching in a near-Pavlovian response, and you chuckle as you uncap the lube you'd discarded after prepping him, an act alone which had him plummeting head-first into his present state of mind, whimpering at the wet sound of your hand slicking yourself up.
"Ready for me, pup?" You ask, already knowing his answer as you line yourself up.
He yips in response. You really do have him trained well.
In a single harsh thrust that has him yelping beneath you, you sink yourself in to the base with a groan.
"Fuck, so tight for me, good boy."
He keens, high-pitched and desperate, into the pillow as you draw back painfully slowly, only your tip still inside, before pausing.
The effect is immediate; he sobs, an utterly wrecked sound, as a hand on his hips halts his attempts to shove himself against you to force your length back in.
"Such a needy little dog," you tease. "You want me to fuck you that badly, huh? Want me to keep going until I knock you up, 'till you're swollen with my litter?"
He nods frantically with a yip.
"You know what to do; beg for it like the desperate little bitch in heat that you are."
The series of shameless yips and barks that follows are nothing short of debauched, and the sound of your boyfriend, the revered Papa degrading himself at your command, sinking to this low just to please you, has you stifling a groan of your own.
Well, not just to please you, you suppose. You know he gets off on this treatment just as much as you get off on giving it, if the angry red cock leaking consistently onto the mattress below is any indicator.
"That's what I wanted to hear," you praise, slamming back into him with a force that has him wailing into the pillow.
You set a brutal pace, barely drawing back before pounding into him, the bed knocking against the wall with every thrust. He looks utterly sinful, a strand of drool dripping down his cheek where he rests it against the pillow, tears flowing unrestrained from his eyes as every harsh slam forces an exhaled 'ah' from his lungs, too far gone to beg or plead or do much more than sob beneath you.
"Fuck, so good," you moan. "Like you were fuckin' made for this, built by Satan to take my kits."
He half-moans, half-yips, cock kicking beneath him as his hole clenches around you.
"Yeah, you're just my little bitch, aren't you? Just dying for a litter of my pups," you groan. "Don't you worry, I'll give it to you, fuck you 'til it takes, 'til there's no chance you're not knocked up, 'til everyone can see exactly who you belong to. As many. Times. As. It. Takes." You punctuate your promise with cruel thrusts directly to that sensitive spot inside him and a yank to the leash still dangling from his collar, and Terzo's coming untouched with a sobbed bark, your own orgasm following a few shallow thrusts later.
Catching your breath, you slip your softening cock out of his hole, shushing him as he whines at the sensation of your spend leaking out.
As soon as you're out, he's straightening his legs and flopping flat onto the bed, no doubt into where his own cum soaks the sheets below, you note with a chuckle.
"How're you feeling, love?" You ask, unclipping the leash from his collar as he blinks up at you, giving you a shaky thumbs-up with a smile filled with so much reverent adoration that your heart aches a little.
"Don't want to talk right now?"
He shakes his head.
"That's alright. I'm gonna clean you up now, alright?"
He nods.
"Good. I'll be right back with a wet rag - should only take a second," you reassure him. He nods, that lovesick grin making you unsure if he truly processed your words at all, but you leave to grab a washcloth nonetheless, dampening it with warm water before returning.
Taking his cheek in one hand, you gently wipe away the sweat, drool and tears that streak across his face before pressing a gentle peck to his lips and reaching to unclip the collar around his neck. He whines, brow furrowing as your hand finds the clasp.
"You wanna keep it on?"
He nods, a more sleepy rendition of his puppy-eyed pout from earlier making its return.
"Alright, lemme just loosen it a little for you and I'll leave it on for the night." He hums with a smile, nuzzling into your arm as you add more slack to the velvet collar.
The rest of your cleanup goes without issue, both of you content to discard the soiled pillow and place a blanket over the damp area of the sheets and deal with the mess tomorrow, and you toss the washcloth in your hamper before climbing into bed.
As soon as you're settled, Terzo's arms are around you, head resting in the crook of your neck.
"Thank you for tonight, vito mio," he whispers.
You take one of his hands in your own, lifting it to your lips to kiss each knuckle. "Of course, I'm glad you enjoyed."
He hums in affirmation. "Goodnight," he mumbles, nuzzling against your neck with a sigh.
"Goodnight, my love."
--
Taglist: @queer-fictions @assmaster37 (Drop an ask or a comment to be added or removed!)
Kinktober Day 16: Remote Control (Copia x m!Reader)
I’m still sick. And I’m also tired of looking at this. I wrote it in one sitting and if I discover any typos I will be promptly deleting my account /j
NSFW past cut (+ terms) MDNI as always
Tags: Bottom Copia, Exhibitionism, Remote Control Vibrator, Cumming Untouched, Trans Copia, Top Reader
Terms for Copia: Hole, ass, cock, dick, pussy, breast, tit
~
Copia whines as you circle her hole with a well-lubed finger. She wines as her cock stirs in her tight slacks, trapped against her thigh. You have the waistband of them pulled down just enough to allow you access to her ass.
"Shh, come on cara. I can't put it in if you're this tight." Her mouth drops open in a long moaned "ah" as you dip the pad of your finger in. "Gotta stretch you first."
She nods, but she's still tense against your touch. You remedy this by reached around and cupping her clothed length and, with a long sigh, she tips her head back as her body relaxes enough for you to slip in to your second knuckle.
"Good girl," you coo as she bucks back onto your finger, trying to get you deeper. "So greedy for me, you're just trying to suck me in. Want me to fuck you so bad, don't you, dolcezza?"
"Please," she sobs. Her cock twitches and throbs beneath your palm. "Want you, amore. I can be quick, I swear."
You press a kiss to her back, just above the cleft of her ass. You line a second finger up and ease it in gently, beginning to carefully scissor her open. Her painted lips form a cute o as she moans and you can't help but reward her with another tender squeeze.
"There's my good girl. Think you're loose enough?"
She gasps when you remove your fingers and quickly nods. "Please, put it in, teroso, I can't wait any longer."
"Oh, but you'll have to," you warn when you fetch the small plug. It slides in easily, also aiding in holding in the lube you'd prepped her with. "After all, you don't get your reward until after the show."
You watch as her ass clenches around the new intrusion, trying to get used to it. She looks so gorgeous like this, you almost can't wait yourself. But she's on for her sound check in five, and the ghouls are probably wondering where she is. You pull her pants up the rest of the way and plant a gentle kiss to her white cheek.
"They'll love you. They always do."
* * *
You take your place behind the barrier just before the rest of the fans are allowed in. She always manages to get you priority admission, even before the highest VIP ticket holders. Perks of being the Papa's partner, you suppose.
The small remote seems to burn a hole in your pocket. You'd tested it, yes, but this would be the first time you used it inside her, as well as in public, and the thought aroused you both. Tonight was a special adults-only show anyways, so you didn't have to worry about unconsenting viewers, everyone having to have agreed to a more sensual experience when they'd purchased their tickets.
You knew it was mostly for you, though. As much as your girlfriend loved parading herself for the masses, she adored showing off for you even more. She knew you'd be watching for her reactions much closer than the fans, and it has her leaking in her briefs as she watches the clock tick down to when the show is about to start. She can't wait for you to play with her on stage, can't wait for her voice to tremble as the plug hums to life inside of her mid-lyric.
Her imagination can't compare to the real thing, though, when she's up there halfway through the third song as you finally click it on. Her voice cracks beautifully and she glances down to see your self-assured smirk as she struggles to remember the next words. She knows they're wrong the second they're out but she can't find it in herself to care, too lost and drunk on the pleasure.
She doesn't think she'll survive Monstrance Clock when she notices you turn it on and leave it on. Of course you'd choose to tease her throughout the entirety of a song dedicated to women orgasming; she's almost convinced that's what you're trying to achieve.
But, thankfully, you turn it off at the conclusion of it and leave her to her devices through the finale. She practically sprints into her dressing room the very second she's able to, wrestling her pants and boxers down so she can fist her poor weeping cock. She only pauses when she hears you knock and has to let you in. When your eyes flicker to a bead of pre on her tip, you grin, and she knows she's in for a punishment.
"I thought you said you'd be good and wait."
"I—" She whimpers when you walk her to the vanity and force her to sit on it. "I made it until the end of the show, amore, but I couldn't wait when I didn't know how long you'd be."
You click your tongue disapprovingly. "You have no faith in me, bella, after all I've given you." You reach into your pocket and turn the plug on once more, her yelping and dropping her head to your shoulder as she shudders at the sensation.
"Ooooh, I'm sorry, oh caro I'm sorry, please just—"
"Beg."
She opens her mouth to but is cut off with a squeal as your lips descend upon her collarbone, deftly undoing the buttons with your tongue and laving at the sensitive, flushed skin it reveals. She devolves into high pitched moans when you free her breast and suck one into your mouth. Your hot tongue swipes at her nipple and she bucks her hips into the air as you graze your teeth against the hardening bud.
"Words, cara, unless you've forgotten how to beg." Your words are muffled against her skin but she gets the point well enough. Her hands worry into your hair to pull you closer, to urge you to take more of her tit into your mouth.
"Oh, cuore mio, I'm so sorry, I should've been good like you asked and waited—" She hics when your hand massages her other breast, kneading it gently. "Please fuck me, please amore I need you, I've wanted you all day, the whole show I was hard and waiting for you and I just got so impatient and I'm so-o-rry!" She practically screams when you grip the base of her cock, pinning her hips to the wood.
"Since you asked so nicely," you coo as you release her with a wet pop. "I suppose I can indulge you." You reach a hand under her ass to ease the still-vibrating plug out. She lets out a sigh of relief, but it's short lived as you tug her legs forward to angle her now-gaped hole towards you. Her cock bobs against her stomach as you free yourself from your slacks and line yourself up, blunt tip pressing against her aching pussy. She howls as you sheathe yourself fully in one swift motion. The pace you set is relentless, pulling out until your tip is barely inside her and then using your grip on her hips to slam back in.
She sees stars, her eyes shut so tight the light of the room barley makes it through. She whines and sobs and moans as you fuck into her, taking her tit into your mouth and sucking at her like you could fit the whole thing into your mouth if you simply tried hard enough. A part of her believes you could, from sheer determination alone.
Her release rapidly approaches, and she babbles out a warning, but whether you hear it and ignore her or it was completely unintelligible she'll never know; all she does know is that your hips never slow, that the slapping of skin on skin echoing in the room is slowly drowned out as she climaxes and howls, spurting all over her belly and chest as you fuck her through it. She whimpers in overstimulation as your thrusts grow uneven and you bury yourself inside her, cumming as well.
It takes a minute for her to catch her breath; you're lost in the motion of her black lips fluttering as she huffs in and out. But, eventually, she opens her eyes and looks at you with a purely love-drunk expression.
"Oh, teroso… I think we need to do this for every show."
