“I don’t put things on my blog because I don’t want to be perceived.” Honey.
We are all at the devil’s sacrament together. You became a part of the ritual the moment you created an account.
I promise no one important gives a shit what you put on your blog. It’s your locker. Your dream teenage room with your favorite posters and knick-knacks lovingly strewn about the place. It’s a chance to show your friends your favorite holographic stickers and those cool Lisa Frank notebooks you never let go of.
No one here will perceive you for sharing the things you love (including fanart and fanfics) because everyone’s too busy trying to build their ideal dollhouse.
Quick drabble bc I am constantly thinking about Sylus's new promise card. Formatting and linking may be weird idk I'm doing this from my phone lol
Probably gonna drabble a couple scenarios for his new card tbh. Cuz like. That fucking back 😩
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Sylus grunts as a weight lands heavy on his back. In any normal situation, he would be up in a heartbeat, knocking the threat aside and pinning them with his Evol as he retrieves the gun under his pillow - the gun currently touching his wrist. However, this is no normal situation, and this is no threat.
"Daddy!! Daddy, wake up!!" His daughter, equal parts sweetheart and menace, shakes at his exposed shoulders. Tiny hands tap, pat, shove against him, insistent. "Waaake uuup!"
He sighs low through his nose. "What is it, baby?" he mutters, half muffled by his pillow.
She giggles, finally given an ounce of attention. Her knees dig into his spine as she shifts positions. She's wholly oblivious to the grimace on his face as she leans over him, pressing a hand down beside his face to keep herself from falling. Despite this, her hand keeps sinking too deep into his pillow, so she has to keep readjusting herself. "Mommy said not to wake you!"
He huffs, half amused. "D'you know what that means, baby?"
She hums. "Yeah! It means I shouldn't wake you!"
Oh, she's sooo close to grasping it. He relents to her, sighing long and low as he presses himself up onto his elbows. "Very good," he mutters. She, gratefully, goes back to straddling his back, his spine free from her bony little knees. She wraps her arms around his neck, trying to peek at his face over his shoulder. "Where's Mommy?"
He pushes himself up to his knees, then sits on the edge of the bed to stand up. His daughter is so tiny compared to him, looking like a backpack as her feet try to find support kicking into his sides. He reaches an arm back to hold her up. He's glad she's not wearing shoes.
"She's makin' breakfast. I helped make the stuff for waffles!"
"The batter?"
"Mhm! I got big strong arms, Daddy! I mixed it real good!"
"I'm sure you did, baby. I can't wait to taste the fruit of your labor."
He tiredly listens to the rambling in his ear as he leaves the peaceful sanctity of his bedroom. She chatters on and on about her dolls and the convoluted storyline she's created around them. Apparently, Pinky Pie is in a really bad argument with the Hulk and must use her magical powers to stop him from destroying her mansion (a dollhouse Sylus built for her). She's still ranting about the Hulk breaking the living room couch when he steps into the kitchen.
You turn at the sound of her voice, too busy tending to the expansive breakfast you'd planned to save him from her relentless energy. "Sweetheart! Did you go wake up Daddy?"
Her cheeks squish up in a wide, toothy smile, so proud of herself. "I did!"
"And what did I tell you?"
Sylus shakes his head. "I already tried that." You bite back your chastising as he comes to stand behind you. He wraps his free arm around your waist, holding you to him as he drops his chin to rest on your shoulder. He sighs, tired but content. "What's all this for, then?"
"Your birthday!" your daughter cries, upset at the mere possibility of him forgetting.
You kiss his cheek lightly with a chuckle. "I was trying to surprise you. Happy birthday, love."
He grins. When he kisses you, it's impossibly soft, containing all the love he can't express in words. "Thank you, sweetheart."
Your daughter pats his shoulder. "What about me?"
"I haven't forgotten," he assures. He lifts his head from your shoulder, turning to find his little girl's round cheek. "Thank you, too, baby."
Okay your workingdad!Sylus thoughts are amazing. Some prompts that come to mind:
I love the idea of his diaper bag contents doubling up as improvised weapons. Like, someone lunges for him mid-meeting and Sylus just knocks him out with a metal sippy cup while he burps the baby.
Or The World’s Quietest Arms Deal with napping baby and some intensely threatening negotiations held at the quietest whisper possible, one person raises their voice and Sylus shuts them up with a spare pacifier.
Feel free to ignore these if you’re not interested but this whole concept has brought me so much joy lol I needed this today xx
Oh my god the pacifier 💀
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The room is tense. Well, it was tense before he even walked in, but now the added frustration of keeping their voices down has multiplied it tenfold.
Sylus' brow is pinched tight. His eyes glare at the others around the table. He's already tired, forced to come here during the daytime while his beloved took a day for themself, forced to come here during his daughter's own nap time. He's grown deeply fond of sharing this time with her, cradling her against his chest where he can feel her heart beat against his, petting the soft tufts of white hair just beginning to show.
Now he has to settle for holding her to him while he whispers heated negotiations and not-so-vague threats over her head.
It's not going well. It's not uncommon for the N109 Zone bosses to come together like this to discuss feuds and land-grabs, but it's just giving him a damn headache. He isn't going to budge his own territory to this inexperienced prick. And he isn't standing for any threats to claim it by force. His daughter and spouse live here; why would he give up land now when his instincts seek only to claim more and more for his darlings?
He sighs as he looks down at his sleeping angel's face. She's so at peace. Chubby cheeks, long eyelashes, pouty lips that shimmer with drool. He could never tire of the sight.
So when the man down the table slams his fist down and raises his voice, and his little dragon's face cinches in an upset grimace, it's a miracle he doesn't kill him.
No, instead his hand shoots out. Red tendrils of energy angrily dart for the man. Wrap around his body, containing him back down in his chair, arms held tight to the wood, enough for it to creak under the pressure. The man opens his mouth to shout his protests, but just as he does so, a little bright pink pacifier is behind shoved into his gob. Red tendrils wrap around it and his head, keeping him from spitting it out.
Sylus' glare is deadly. Sharp. Dangerous. He puts a finger to his lips. The whole room is silenced at once. People stilled in their seats for fear the slightest creak will bring his wrath down on them.
He looks back down at his daughter. He shushes her softly, brushing a knuckle against her cheek. As quick as it came, the grimace eases. She relaxes back into her dreams. Nuzzles her cheek against his shoulder, wiping her drool onto his expensive shirt. He lets out a quiet breath of relief.
Red eyes that seem to glow with warning set on the restrained man. In a low whisper, he utters, "I will not be moved."
His chair slides out silently. He grabs the diaper bag from under the table as though it's a briefcase. Turns on his heel and heads for the door. The energy loosens its hold, ripping the pacifier from his mouth and chasing after Sylus to drop it into the bag, just as the door closes with a soft click behind him.
Imagining seeing Sylus from across the store aisle. He's got two babies strapped to his torso, Kieran in front and Luke in back. They're both reaching for each other over his shoulder, babbling nonsense only they understand. He hums every so often, fueling their conversation even more
He's not really paying attention to them, though. His focus is on the girl's section of baby clothes. Tiny pink onesies and shirts with glitter and tutus, and little dresses with cherries embroidered on them. A large hand that dwarf all of the clothes gently tugs on the fabrics, contemplative, before pushing them back on the rack
By all accounts, he's sure he has no reason to look at them. Still, he can't deny the thoughts in his head. The images of his two sons running around with a little sister. Her bossing them both around despite being younger, arms crossed and pouting, her hair up in wild little pigtails
Luke grabs his ear and he gently tilts his head away as he looks up at his son, wondering what he wants his attention for. He sees you then, watching him. Caught in the act. His ears turn red as he walks back over to you, holding Luke's hand to give him the attention he requested and supporting Kieran's back with the other
You smile, playfully stepping around him and back to the baby clothes, hand on your swollen belly as you pick up one of the dresses and hold it up. "Want to get some?"
You know the gender of the baby, asked to know the last time you went for a checkup while he took care of the twins. But you never told him, choosing to keep it a secret little surprise
You see the moment it clicks. The way his eyes widen slightly, perking up like a cat who just saw a bird. He glances down at your belly and the widening smile on your face
He crosses the distance in two strides. Kisses your head with a quiet shaky sigh. "Have I told you lately how much I love you?" he murmurs
You tilt your head back and meet his eyes, warm with adoration. "Tell me again," you order
He smiles. "I love you very dearly," he says, speaking low, as if you're the only two in the whole store - in the whole world. "My beloved."
You lean up to kiss him. He meets you halfway. Kieran grabs at his chin while Luke stretches to reach for your hair. You part with a shared laugh. You turn back to the clothes and start picking out a bunch of cute outfits for your upcoming baby girl. "C'mon, papa, let's get some clothes!"
WAIT I HAD ANOTHER SYLUS FAKE PHONE CALL IDEA AHHH
-
"Deal with it. I'm sure I don't need to remind you of what will happen if you don't."
There seems to be a permanent furrow in his brow. A tension in his jaw and a tightness in his shoulders. Sylus can feel a headache coming on, pressing incessantly at his temple.
He drops his phone onto the table with a clatter. Leans back into his chair, elbow propped up on the armrest, to rest his head in his hand and rub the pain, urging it to go away.
A small clack sound comes from the other side of his desk. He peeks an eye open and a head ducks under the edge. Left behind is a tiny plastic phone.
Like a balm, he already feels the headache starting to subside as a foolish smile tugs at his lips. With a long, tired sigh, he leans forward and reaches for it. "Another phone call?" he mopes. He sits back, opening the toy and putting it to his ear, pointedly ignoring the pitter-pattern of feet running behind his chair. "Who is it?"
"Is me!" comes a voice muffled behind a hand. "Is ta printess!"
He widens his eyes. "Oh, the Princess? I'm honored to have a call from Her Majesty. How can I help you today, my lady?"
A snicker comes from behind him. He subtly covers his mouth to hide one of his own. "Wan' ta cookies!"
"The cookies?" he gasps. "Normally I would, Highness, but I seem to remember getting in trouble the last time I gave some to you."
The voice whines. He can picture the pout on her squishy little face. Curls his lips between his teeth to stifle the desire to nibble and bite at her little cheeks. "Buh I wan' ta cookie..."
He weighs his options. And while your ire is nothing to sniff at, he can't find anything in this world that could justify denying his daughter her small desires. He sighs. "Alright, Princess. I'll get you a cookie. But only one, alright?"
"A'righ!"
He doesn't hide his smile any longer as he "hangs up" the phone and turns his chair around. Sure enough, the adorable, plush face of his baby girl is there to greet him. He opens his arms and she leaps into them, always trusting him to catch her. He hefts her up against his chest, cradling her like his most precious treasure. "And we don't tell anyone about it," he reminds her.
I'm also imagining the glasses shenanigans. Cuz I wear glasses, and literally my three favorite guys ALSO wear glasses
So just imagine waking up from the cuddle pile, grabbing a pair of glasses and being like nope not mine. Nope not mine. Nope not mine. Okay these are mine
Or like Valko in a rush grabbing the wrong glasses by accident so Zayne has to basically suffer through the morning without them until he can visit Val on his work break to get them back
Sylus doesn't need his all the time, but I still think it'd be funny if he went to put on his glasses and noticed they suddenly have a noticeable frame around them. Just sighing, taking a picture of them, and sending them into the group chat like "Which kitten misplaced their glasses again?"
Sylus, Valko, Zayne poly period drabble for my own comfort
Your period is hitting you harder now than it has in the past. Cramps that twist your innards, headaches that thrum, the pit of desire willing you to rot away in bed all day, and now a cresting wave of nausea that comes and goes as it pleases with no warning.
You feel like shit. You hate the world right now. You want to do literally anything other than wither under your blankets, curled around a heatpad and your phone's too-bright screen, but you feel like too much ass to try. You just know the slightest minor inconvenience will set you off.
Even your boyfriends not being here is getting to you. Like an annoying little fly, the fact they're so far away nags at you. Buzzing in your ear, landing on your skin only to fly away before you can squash it. Zayne is at work, Valko is at work, Sylus is at work - all of them leaving you alone to suffer.
Just thinking about it brings a burning sting to your eyes. It's not their fault. Zayne was darling enough to set up your heatpad and provide you medicine before you could think to request them, but he had a schedule full of surgeries he couldn't avoid. Valko snagged your favorite blankets to cover you with and a portable phone charger so you don't have to leave bed or be without entertainment, but he had an unavoidable meeting at his company - something tech-y and vital you couldn't understand. Sylus left you Mephisto to monitor and serve your every need, but there's more territory disputes happening in the N109 Zone lately that desperately need his attention to snuff out before they escalate.
So with a kiss from each, they told you to call if you needed them, and left.
You won't call. Their jobs are important. Far more important than your monthly suffering.
But you wish they were here.
You wish you didn't feel so awful.
You wish you could be all snuggled up between them.
Mephisto caws softly from his perch as the first sniffles turn into quiet whimpers. You turn your phone off and bury your face in your pillow, muffling your sobs as everything overwhelms you. With your head pounding like a war drum, your uterus squeezing itself, and a gag building at the back of your throat, you fall into a very disheartened nap.
-
Sylus gets home first. Given the nature of his job and the burning daylight hours, he can make his own schedule without anyone else to hold him up. As soon as the pests are eliminated, he's free to return home to get his much needed sleep.
He saw Mephisto's messages. The crow's videos and concerning texts warning him about your wellbeing. His heart ached when he saw the videos, hiding your face and muffling your distress. He stopped to buy you some new toys to play with - things related to your hobbies and current fixations - before he allowed himself to walk through the door.
He slowly enters the bedroom. You're still in your heap of blankets. Tears linger on your cheeks, dried over time. Eyes visibly raw and worn.
Quietly, he sets the shopping bags aside. He undresses, changing into some sleep pants and his oversized sweater. Slowly, he slips into bed beside you. Then moves aside your heatpad and your phone to pull you on top of him. You settle into his heat readily, sighing with contentment as you nuzzle into his neck and allow your muscles to relax as the pain eases somewhat.
He shoots a text into the group chat he has with Valko and Zayne, and sets his phone aside. With one last kiss to your head, he allows himself to fall asleep.
-
Valko returns home second. Once the meeting is done, he's free, finally able to push everything else on the docket aside to focus on more important matters. He saw the text from Sylus during the meeting; his leg was bouncing impatiently the whole time after.
He stops by the store on his way home to get you more product, and a cute plushie he saw that reminded him so much of you he couldn't simply let it go unpurchased.
He puts the boxes of supplies away in the bathroom and hides the plushie somewhere you'll find it later on. He hopes he's around to see it; he loves seeing you laugh at his antics.
He undresses himself down to his boxers. Clothes will just get in the way of being as close to his partners as possible and he isn't having it. He's been waiting all day for this chance to cuddle and he isn't about to pass it up.
He slips in on one side of the bed. Sylus stirs enough to peek an eye open to see who it is. He hums in acknowledgement of his presence and opens his arm to welcome his partner in on the cuddle session.
Valko eagerly tucks himself into Sy's shoulder, wrapping his arm over you and pulling you ever so slightly toward him. Sylus's hand travels into his short hair, petting and scratching him lazily, in all the ways that have his eyelids fluttering shut and his body curling closer.
Soon, though, Sylus slips back into his dreams. It takes longer for Val to join the dreamland. For a while, he simply stays there, breathing in your scents, and gently nuzzling against your head and Sy's shoulder.
-
Zayne gets home last. His hours are long and packed. If it had been any other day, he would have loved coming home sooner. Alas, he sees the messages only after his final surgery.
On his way home, he stops at your favorite restaurant to get your favorite food. Then stops by a bakery to get you too many sweets, knowing full well the amount will welcome Val and himself to steal a little here and there.
He puts the food away in the fridge. It's already dark outside. He creeps into the bedroom as he undoes his tie and takes in the sight before him.
All of his partners, snuggled together in bed. At some point, you snuck under Sylus's sweater, your head sharing the same neckhole as his own and undeniably stretching it out. Sylus doesn't mind for one second, sleepily nuzzling his cheek against your hair as he fights against consciousness.
Valko is strewn even more over you and Sy. He's turned to lay half of his body over Sylus's, shoulder to shoulder with you as his arm continues to hold you in place. Legs tangled with both of yours, face turned away, mouth parted and dripping drool into the sweater.
It's such a welcome sight. He methodically goes through his process of getting changed into his pajamas. He knows he won't be able to rest for long; you'll all need to get up to eat dinner and finish your routines. But for now, he crawls in on the other side of Sylus and lays on his side.
Sylus draws him in with his arm slipping around his waist and back. His nose brushes against his bangs. Lips finding his forehead by second nature. Zayne's hand slips under the blanket and under the sweater and under your shirt, to find the curve of your back and massage the muscles there. His cool fingers initially make you shiver. But as they find all the perfect spots to steal your pain, you sigh in bliss.
-
You wake up in warmth and surrounded by familiar scents. All of your overwhelming emotions about being alone are dashed. All of your pain and nausea has faded into something dull and distant. With the repetitive rise and fall of the chest beneath you and the soft breaths of the men beside you, you can stop worrying about anything else.
For the first time all day, you don't feel quite so awful.
How did Valko get himself into this situation? One moment he was his friends party, planning to only stay for a couple minutes. But now, he sat between two other men, groping him and nibbling at his earlobes as if they were starving.
The buzz from alcohol effected him, making him stare mindlessly at the tv in front of him.
Who were they? He didn't know. He never got their names.
"Hey!" He flinched as the silver haired man touched his wolf ears now, rubbing in tight circles at the tips, only making Valkos mind go foggy. He groaned and tilted his head towards the man.
"What-!" The raven head beside him pulled at his tail, caressing it like some pet.
He was NOT their pet. Yet, they made him feel like one. Did he like it? No. Did it turn him on? Absolutely.
"What? Don't like a little foreplay?" The man to his right stared at him and he caught the extra glint in his ruby red eyes.
Valko bit his lip and tilted his head as the man to his left now kissed his jaw and neck.
"W-who are you two.. anyway-" Valko grunted, jerking his hips up.
"Zayne." The raven head bit his earlobe again.
"And Sylus." The other man rubbed Valko through his jeans.
"Mm-" Valko panted, utterly blissed out by the sudden jolt of his hips as Zayne leaned down and nudged his face against his bulge.
He wasn't going to leave this house alone, was he?
Based on this idea I wrote oml TWO YEARS AGO??? Crazy
@freddy-2002-blog I finally wrote it :3
Warnings: angst, lack of communication, self-worth issues, injury, blood, panic, fear, literal sleeping together, established relationship, blood loss, swearing
Word Count: 1,359
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Maybe it's not bad enough to call him yet. Maybe you should just push it off a bit longer. I mean, what would he think if you called and interrupted him over something that wasn't worth his time? You'd hate to bother him.
Hm. Yeah... this isn't worth interrupting him over...
-
Sylus returns home in the middle of the night, closer to daybreak. He wishes he could have come back sooner. It's been several nights now since he's been there to see you off to bed. Since he's been able to spend a few precious hours with you, with nothing coming between you.
Still, he's here now.
You're already in bed. The moment he steps through his bedroom door, he sees your head poking out of the thick blankets, face softened with sleep. He sighs quietly to himself.
He moves about the room silently, changing his clothes before he allows himself to crawl into bed beside you. Wrapping his arms gently around your body, careful not to wake you, is his favorite part of the day. The time when he can hold you close, feel your warmth against him, breathe you in, hear your steady breaths and heartbeat, relish the peace his love brings him.
He has to wonder if you're really okay with all of this. He's told you to call him at any time for any reason, but his phone has been completely silent. When he calls to check in, there always seems to be a waver in your response after he asks if you're okay. You don't give him a chance to address it.
He breathes you in deeply, hooking his chin over your shoulder and settling in cheek-to-cheek with you. You know you can tell him anything. He'd give you the world if you only asked. Maybe the Association is working you more than he expected. You'd tell him if something was wrong..... right?
-
It's only been a few hours when he wakes again, if the weight under his eyes is any indication. He frowns, drowsy and grumpy, knowing damn well it's not time to wake up.
He exhales through his nose, nuzzling his cheek against yours, hugging you a little tighter-
His eyes shoot open. His whole body freezes, kicked wide awake as adrenaline starts pumping through his veins.
There's something warm and wet here, just underneath your hip.
He sits up, propping himself up on his elbow, and pushes the blankets aside. Even in the dark, he recognizes the stain on his hand. On the sheets. Soaked into your shirt.
In an instant, he's jumping out of bed and ripping the blankets off of you. You stir with a shiver, quietly whimpering when you try curling into yourself for warmth. His mind is racing. Calculating. Trying to work out what happened to leave you bleeding in his bed as he lifts you up and carries you to the bathroom.
"Sy...?" you mumble out, disoriented and lost. First you were warm, then cold, then warm, then cold... You don't know what's going on. You've only just pieced together that you're sitting on the bathroom counter by the time he's pulled out an emergency first aid kid and started to cut away your shirt. "What's happening...?"
"When did you get hurt?" he demands. His hands get covered more and more by your blood as he peels away wet fabric and tosses it into the sink. Red paints white porcelain like a crime scene.
You blink, trying to wake up. When did you get so tired...? You look down at your side. Oh. Oh, that's... a lot more blood than you expected. You don't remember it being that bad. You slapped a bandage over it and it seemed fine. But now it seems to have completely rendered the adhesive of the bandage useless, as it just about falls off with barely a tug. He tosses it into the sink, too. "Wanderer..."
His voice is a sharp bark as he says, "Why didn't you have this looked at?"
You open your mouth. Close it. Open it again with a quiet murmur, "I didn't want to bother you..."
It's not the right answer - you know that by the anger that washes over his face. His eyes darken. Brow furrows deeper. His actions are sharp and rough as he pulls out packets of gauze and rips them open with his teeth. He presses them hard against the open wound. He doesn't ease up, even when you gasp in pain.
He doesn't speak, and there's nothing you can say that can help right now. He's pissed - at you for keeping this a secret, and at himself for not being more adamant in his check-ins.
And at himself again because he made you feel that you'd be bothering him at any time regardless of what he's doing.
He keeps pressure until the bleeding slows. It doesn't look severe enough to need stitches, thankfully. Still, it does little to calm him down as he disinfects and covers it with more gauze and a sturdier bandage.
The bathroom is a mess. Or, at least, the counter and sink is. He doesn't meet his reflection in the mirror as he scrubs and washes the red off his hands. It stains deep, lingering even after he's washed them twice over. He leaves you on the counter and heads back into the bedroom without a second glance.
You carefully slip off the edge, onto your feet, to peek through the doorway at him. His back is to you as he grabs pillows and tosses them aside to the floor. He lifts the blankets and checks them for blood, before tossing them aside as well. He's just starting to pull the silk sheets off the corner of the mattress when you come up behind him and hug him.
His whole body is tense and rigid, like you haven't felt since you first hugged him so long ago. He becomes stock still. Paused in this moment of time as you cling to his shirt and press your face between his shoulder blades.
"I'm sorry..." you whisper. "I didn't think it would get this bad, I just didn't want to bother you for nothing."
And oh gods does his heart spike. You sound so... small. "You should have told me," he says, harsher than he means to. "I'm never bothered by you."
"But-"
"No." That one word alone leaves no room for you to continue making your excuses. You bite your tongue, killing the words in your throat.
One of his hands drops the bedsheet. When it comes to rest over yours, it's shaking. It's faint, but unmistakable.
"When I woke up, you were bleeding out in bed beside me. I had no idea you were even hurt," he grits out, pained just to relive the experience again. He squeezes your hands, trying to ground himself to the present. "What if I was too late and you'd already died in my arms? Hm?" He lets out a low breath, dangerous and intense, like a dragon's exhale. "I'd have torn this world apart trying to find who did this to you. Wondering what I could have done to..." His voice breaks. Actually cracks helplessly at the hypothetical situation. At the image of you laying beside him, fast asleep, bleeding out while he's none the wiser.
He exhales slowly. Unsteady. Then he lets go of your hands and nods toward the sofa. "Go sit down, sweetie," he commands softly. "You lost a lot of blood."
You stay for a moment longer. Press your face deeper into his back, tighten your hold around him, listening to his heartbeat stutter in lingering fear and his breaths come and go in restrained calm.
Slowly, you let go. You're lightheaded as you stumble over to the couch. Still tired as you lay yourself up against the armrest so you can watch him continue undressing the bed. You let the anger and the fear he radiates sink deep into your soul.
There's no need to debate whether to call him next time. Not when you can see the aftermath in the red staining his hands.
“P-please please V-Valko! Valko please t-tell him to let me cum!” Your choked whimpers send a knife through his heart, though it has little effect on Zayne, who rips the vibrator away from you with no mercy.
“C-come on doc, don’t you think she’s had enough?” The scent of you nearly overwhelms him, makes his mouth water really. Your poor pussy is soaked, and Valko wants nothing more than to clean you up.
"Hardly. Her punishment has barely even started." Still, Zayne squeezes your thigh, letting you catch your breath before he keeps going.
"I-I promise to be good! I'll behave I-I swear please...Valko..." Just the breathy gasp of his name makes him lurch forward, but Zayne stops him.
"Just-just let me clean her up. I won't make her cum." His nose is twitching, eyes locked onto the slick between your thighs. When Zayne nods, Valko moves as a blur, nearly launching himself between your legs and dragging his tongue across your inner thighs. He moans at the taste, but it's nearly tortorous for you to have him so close and so far all at once.
Of course, that had been Zayne's plan.
"V-Val please-ngh-please!" He pins your hips down to prevent the way you thrash, using just the tip of his tongue to trace your entrance.
"Isn't this what you wanted?" Zayne smirks, leaning over to press his lips to yours. You whimper into the kiss, tears streaming down your face. A cool hand wipes them away, soothing you just barely. Before you can get too lost in him, Valko's nose bumps your sensitive clit, making you cry out.
"God! Please Z-Zayne..." Your head is spinning, body burning with desire.
"Poor thing...she's so desperate." Valko murmurs, eyeing Zayne with a clear intention. Zayne sighs, knowing that Valko always has a way of sneaking you out of a punishment.
"Alright, you can make her cum. But if you do...you aren't allowed to cum tonight."
