You had both of the men on their knees on the mattress in front of you, with one of them looking a bit more intrigued by the idea than the other.
The faint hum of their soul jams was the only sound that broke the silence in the room, and you let your eyes wander over the pair of them, taking in the keen glow that emitted from the fragile gem.
It was just so.. beautiful. And they were letting you touch them?
Letting you take their most prized possession in the palm of your hands? You still had a hard time wrapping your head around it, but the eager look on Shadow Milk and Truthless Recluses' faces gave you the confidence that you needed to go through with this.
Before you could actually touch the souljam, a low chuckle came out of the Beast of Deceit, causing you to look down at him- only making him grin in return.
" You going to get on with it already? It won't bite. " he said, a small pout appearing on his face as if he was the one waiting to get the attention he needed. Just as second ago, he seemed extremely excited for you to touch his souljam - but now, his impatience was showing.
Truthless Recluse only rolled his eyes, letting out a sigh before turning his attention back towards you. His darkened bicolored eyes held a sense of comfort, something he always managed to do, even with the slightest movements or actions.
" Please don't mind him, darling. Go ahead and do what you wish, I trust you with it. " the other Cookie of Deceit's voice was a lot softer than his partner's, which made your heart skip a beat. It was moments like these where you loved the two of them the most, even if you wouldn't dare admit it out loud.
" You could even choose me first if that would make you feel more comfortable, although I'm sure he would beg to differ." Truthless Recluse's comment got a reaction out of the other cookie, who was glaring at him at the moment.
" Hm. . I guess we could, but it would be a lot better if we did it together. Besides, I've been wanting to get my hands on the two of them since. . well, a while." the words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop yourself, and a red flush crept up your cheeks.
Your words didn't mean to come out that blunt whatsoever. It seemed like the air had tensed in the room, and you opened your mouth to explain yourself - only for Shadow Milk to let out a snort and interrupt you.
" I think we all know that, princess, " he commented, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. " I've seen the way you've looked at us before, so don't be embarrassed. In fact, why don't you tell us what you want, hm? What were you dreaming about when you had those looks on your face? When you couldn't even take your eyes off us? "
He had moved closer, and his lips were now inches away from your own, his dual-toned blue eyes glimmering with a hint of hunger. Your gaze drifted from him and back to the other man, whose heterochromia eyes seemed to be watching your every movement.
Truthless Recluse let out a sigh, before scooting closer towards the two of you, his eyes narrowing. " If I recall correctly, I was the one who offered to let them have my souljam first. " he said, the tone in his voice coming off a bit stern.
Shadow Milk clicked his tongue, turning to look at his partner. " Ah, come on. They didn't answer the question, " he complained, before glancing back at you, the smirk on his face returning once more.
" Well? Are you going to keep us waiting? " he asked, raising an eyebrow, a teasing smile being prominent on his face.
Harsh, ragged breaths escaped Truthless's parted lips, his mind hazy as he felt the rough pace Shadow Milk had set. You sat in front of him, your fingers tracing his jawline, and the look in your eyes told him that you wanted to hear him.
But it was nearly impossible for him to do so, his mind completely blank and his mouth hanging open as his moans and whines slipped out.
He couldn't focus on anything else but the pleasure that racked his body, and the feeling of the other man's cock thrusting inside of him.
Your tongue darted out of your mouth, licking your lips before you leaned down, the darkened souljam slightly glowing brighter with anticipation.
A shudder ran through his body as your tongue lapped over the smooth surface, the warmth of your mouth overwhelming his senses.
" Haa.. hah, please. . " he managed to choke out, the feeling of his orgasm building up quickly. His hips bucked forward, the sensation almost too much for him to bear.
Shadow Milk smirked, his movements quickening, the sound of his thrusts echoing throughout the room. His hand came down, fingers grasping his jaw, and the other man whimpered, the sound making the Beast's stomach coil.
" You look so pretty like this, y'know. . " he said, his voice dripping with arousal. " I could fuck you until I couldn't anymore. Maybe I'll make a mess out of you. Would you like that, Vanilly? "
Truthless Recluse's back sharpened at the nickname, a low groan escaping his throat as the other man's pace quickened. He could barely speak, his words coming out jumbled and broken, but it didn't matter to the other cookie, who was focused on him, and him alone.
" Y'know. . if you weren't so stubborn, maybe we could do this more often. . " Shadow Milk continued, his voice low, and his fingers trailed up his jawline, stopping at his cheek.
Genre: Angst, Familial || they/them pronouns for reader || Warning for canon-accurate super cruel and manipulative Shadow Milk
──────.𖥔 ݁ ˖˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ──────
Truthless Recluse had been trying to find you, looking around the base. It was just after a mission, and Shadow Milk had very pushily insisted that he could leave you in his care. Though something within him knew it was a bad idea, his newfound unwavering loyalty won out. He'd given you a firm hug before he'd gone, but now his chest ached with worry at not seeing you anywhere. "Blue bird? Where are you?" He called, anxiety gripping the edge of his voice "Please don't hide, little one, papa needs to find you"
His head perked up at the sound of distant laughter. Not the soft and joyful kind he was used to hearing from you. Something loud, nearly manic. His jam ran cold as he recognized it as Shadow Milk's sadistic cackle. He rushed to look around the bend, and he froze when his eyes took in the sight. Shadow Milk held a wooden cross above your head, faint blue strings making you move around to his rhythm. Your dough had gone pale, eyes dull and tinged with blue and black. The Recluse clenched his jaw, hot rage filling him as he stormed towards his commander.
"Ohh, Vanilly!" Shadow Milk greeted, snickering behind his hand "How good of you to join us! We're making a play just for you, and the star here-"
Shadow Milk was cut off by getting elbowed under his jaw, the force of it strong enough to knock him back. He made an undignified noise of alarm, rubbing the now bruised area. "Shadow Milk Cookie!!" Candy Apple cried from nearby, practically flinging herself to his side. Shadow Milk growled, glaring as he looked to his disobedient pawn.
Recluse's expression was full of worry, and he knocked the wood far away, pulling back the strings. They thankfully gave way, and you blinked in stunned confusion. Your color was back, your eyes having returned to their natural hue. "Papa?" You asked, disoriented and dizzy. Before you knew it, you were wrapped up in his arms, being held close to his chest. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry" the Recluse whispered, nuzzling you close "My baby, I'm so sorry, I didn't know-.."
He took in a deep breath, feeling you try to wipe some of the tears from his cheeks "Don't cry, papa, please?". "I'm alright, dearest one, I promise" he whispered. Shadow Milk was still frowning, standing back up as Candy Apple fixed Truthless Recluse with a venomous scowl of her own. 'So, this squishy brat still brings out that old Pure Vanilla... how annoying' Shadow Milk thought, his glare deepening. The Recluse could feel the anger within him, and his grief combined with his earlier rage tenfold.
"You." He began, turning to face his leader "Don't you ever come near them again". "Awwh, come on, it was just an act!" Shadow Milk said, his fake cheeriness masking his disappointment "We're all part of my show here, Vanilly, I thought you knew that by now!". He lazily floated onto his back, a hand propping up his chin "But gee, you're not being a very good henchman right now... you won't even let me play with the pawn you brought along! What's the point of bringing a toy if you won't share it? Pretty selfish"
"They're not a 'toy'" Recluse shot back. He had you cradled securely to his side "This is my kid. Not a pawn, a part of your play, or anything like that. You will not be watching them again". "Pfft, awwh, so sad" Shadow Milk exclaimed with a dramatically sarcastic tone "Fine, have it your way! Sheesh, you're so emotional". Recluse was still giving him a heated look of anger, but it melted when he turned back to you. You were hiding behind his robes a little, and he reached a hand down to pet your cheek "Shh, shh, it's alright"
"I'm cold, papa" you admitted. Recluse frowned, scooping you up and wrapping you in the long sleeves of his robe "I've got you". He began leading you away from the other shadow workers, giving a cold look over his shoulder before he continued cooing at you. Shadow Milk landed on the ground, and Candy Apple immediately hugged him tight "That rotten Cookie! How dare he talk to you like that?! Do you want me to take care of him?". "No, no, I've got it all under control" Shadow Milk said, patting the top of Candy Apple's head "I'll find a way to fix that weakness of his.."
Deep down, Shadow Milk felt a small twinge of fear. He was never used to seeing the pacifistic Pure Vanilla snap in such a way, and it scared him for a moment to have that anger directly strike him. He rubbed his injury again, unusually silent. This meant much more than trouble
Truthless Recluse sometimes felt like the watchful eyes of sun and the moon bored at him for reasons far different than admiration.
Laid on his side, with a scroll in his hand—one of those useless things that he did not want to check over, yet did it for the other's sake—and boredom that far surpassed his normal tolerance, he found that the quiet began to feel…
Odd.
The warmth of the body at his side persisted, but it felt artifical. Worn and fabricated, as if stolen from someone else's breath—bottled into a shape that simply pretended to live.
A single finger, pale blue, with the fingernails bitten down to the point of blood, traced his side. It first began at his collar, the thick fabric dipping at the movement—followed down, to where the material wrapped around his chest.
The virtue hummed appreciatively, though their eyes did not quite meet the healer's.
Tracing their hand down, they grazed at the top of his thigh, not suggestive, yet not intimate past the usual point of simply laying together.
Truthless Recluse lowered the scroll enough to set it on the mattress aside.
"You know," Fount mused, cheek supported by their palm—the elbow pressed into the pillows' depths. "I recently found it hard to focus on the letters. Do you reckon I could simply close the inbox?"
The question came suddenly, out of character for someone who insisted on their service. Scrunching his brows, the hermit searched their face, but found little contact.
Fount's eyes flicked over him anew, from the very start of the neck, all the way down to his knees, as if their true mind was absent for quite some time.
"Didn't think you'd ever decide on doing something like this."
The virtue arched an eyebrow. Their hand then moved back, from the top of the thigh, tracing up his arm, before he decided to simply walk atop the dark curtain of fabric with his fingertips.
"Like what I said?" They asked. "I answered most of what was there to answer."
The change did not go unnoticed. Truthless Recluse wished that he could focus enough to provide his own opinion—something he came to understand that Fount valued, even if not enough to fully adjust to it each time—but something about the stare was…
Distracting, to say the least.
Fount breathed out an exhale. "Well, maybe it'd serve them better if I focused on what there is to share about the world, rather than what they want to know about themselves."
The recluse's brow arched. He did not budge.
"Ah, but that is only a foolish thought."
As their tone returned to the more soft, far less decisive hum, Truthless Recluse shifted slightly, facing the knowledge better.
"You speak so oddly these days," he mused. "You spend far too much time at that river."
"Do I?" Fount's eyes finally fluttered up, meeting the hermit's mismatched ones. "I suppose, though is it really too much time if it quenches thirst?"
The virtue's arm moved, loosely wrapping around Truthless Recluse's waist—fingers spreading out to feel the subtle shape of his torso. Fount came to enjoy the subtle shapes, the way that the thinner portions of the fabric could be pressed down to the other's figure.
He liked seeing the slightly defined strength, even though he felt almost vain for it.
Their hand skimmed down again, with less desire and more assessing.
"You know," Truthless Recluse cleared their throat, trying to ignore the pinch of the fount's fingers on his hip. Something felt odd about the entire ordeal.
Fount's hand cupped the material, the length of the black fabric folding as he moved his palm higher, to the hermit's chest. It came to lay right above his heart, near the weirdly shaped symbol at the front.
The virtue arched a brow. They were far too focused on staring at his chest, feeling the pulse thrum beneath his skin.
Truthless Recluse pressed his lips together.
"I believe I could focus better if you stopped—"
"Your heart is racing." Fount spoke, observational. He did not try to verbally pair feelings to the physical sensation as he always tried to, an index finger tapping at his chest.
The hermit's mouth ran dry.
He looked off into the large window, then at the countless pieces of parchment that lay scattered over the desk. His other hand sank into the mattress below with a move far too careful to have been natural.
Truthless Recluse couldn't put sense into his thoughts, nor could he arrange his feelings in a way that could make sense.
It was him who always hovered—now he felt that he should dip.
Like the sun, somewhere below the horizon of Fount's lashes.
The virtue hummed. "I'm sorry, what were you saying? I think I zoned out."
