Illario Dellamorte had never had much hope for his life. For the longest time, his sole ambition had been to snatch the seat of First Talon of the Antivan Crows from his cousin. Now, having failed at that–and quite, spectacularly, he might add–his life felt almost frightfully… free?
Oh, he still had responsibilities, a duty to his cousin and their House and, of course, contracts to fulfill. But, he also had something so wonderfully, unexpectedly his that he still questioned whether he was worthy of such a prize.
Illario had Bellara Lutare.
a bit of a wip 4 u - I'm working on a wenzhou first time fic where they're (checks notes) super normal about it and zzs def doesn't go from "I'm probably not a bottom" to size queen in 60 seconds. anyway, nsfw text ft fantasies about consuming the person u love under the cut—
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"A-Xu, please," Wen Kexing says—squirms higher up on the bed, closer to level with Zhou Zishu. Pulls his thumb away—
Kisses Zhou Zishu's lonely mouth for the first time since this began.
Zhou Zishu isn't sure how he managed to go so long without Wen Kexing kissing him, breathing into his mouth in little whining sobs between kisses. Wen Kexing has three fingers inside Zhou Zishu's body—and how did Zhou Zishu do without that either, all this last year? All the years before that?
The depth of his own desire shocks him all over again: he feels insatiable, too sensitive and still desperate for more. If Wen Kexing kept going, kept fitting more and more of his hand into Zhou Zishu's body, would Zhou Zishu ever think it was enough?
He imagines it—the way his body would have to stretch—the bulk of Wen Kexing's hand, and then his narrow wrist, and then the growing swell of his forearm. Wen Kexing's fingers on Zhou Zishu's organs, playing around with them. Zhou Zishu's body so desperate to consume Wen Kexing that it would stretch to allow even more than that. Allow, somehow, Wen Kexing to creep inside him and curl up, safe, in Zhou Zishu's hollow stomach. For a moment, the insane fantasy makes his body feel so heavy he isn't sure he would be able to move without being guided. Oh, he would consume Wen Kexing—if he could—if it would shelter him from all his ghosts. Forget just a pretty wife to hide away in his home—
"I need," Wen Kexing says—still into Zhou Zishu's mouth. "I—can you manage—?"
Zhou Zishu must nod, or give some other small sign, because Wen Kexing makes a pathetically grateful sound. Rolls his shivery body on top of Zhou Zishu's again.
The anticipation is overwhelming—the press of Wen Kexing's cock against Zhou Zishu's hole makes them both groan—though it's a flat pressure, the length of it rubbing against Zhou Zishu where he's slick and open and not the tip of it pushing in. Still—Zhou Zishu feels so open—Wen Kexing is rubbing against places which have only rarely been touched.
Wen Kexing takes a deep breath, as though bracing himself against a shock. His knuckles brush against Zhou Zishu as he strokes himself, getting his cock wet. He presses his forehead to the back of Zhou Zishu's neck, against bruised flesh, and it's as Zhou Zishu moans at the bright ache of that pressure that Wen Kexing finally, finally, lines his cock up—begins, slowly, to push.
Zhou Zishu digs his elbows hard into the bed, balls his hands in the sheets above his head. Wen Kexing is breathing wetly, harshly—and he isn't even inside yet—and then, shockingly, he is, the head of his cock slipping abruptly in, catching at Zhou Zishu's rim from the inside as Wen Kexing twitches.
How stupid Zhou Zishu had been. He hadn't even been sure he would stay hard—some people don't—even if they like it—he has heard these things discussed, in certain kinds of brothels—and after all, he had not thought that his body would be like this. As soon as there was anything inside it which was not trying to destroy it.
His cock is so hard that he feels too big for his skin there. There's a wet patch on the bed under him—under his face, too.
"Alright," Wen Kexing whispers—as though steadying himself more than Zhou Zishu. He latches his mouth onto Zhou Zishu again, over his spine still but lower down, between his shoulderblades. Sucks hard as he rocks his hips. His helpless little cries vibrate out along Zhou Zishu's ribs, encircling him.
To be slowly filled like this isn't like being fingered after all. There's no delicate exploration, only a relentless stretch, deeper and deeper in. Wen Kexing's cock feels even hotter inside Zhou Zishu than his fingers did. Zhou Zishu can feel Wen Kexing's frantic pulse against his rim, against the inside of his hole. To become entangled, almost like one creature—fuck. Fuck.
IS THERE A TIMEZONE FOR THE RELEASE?? Because I’m living at +8 AND ILL CRY IF I CANT PLAY 3 HOUSES ON THE DAY.
That being said, I’ve been very good at staying far far away from any and all spoilers, I hope FE3H won’t disappoint
I doubt I’ll get any posts done before it’s release BUT there’s always still hope not really
I’ve got several wips sitting on my dash, a half written DBH imagine that’s going nowhere (but I love it too much to scrap it) and the craving to write some dark Mysterio angst—
Yeah I’m a mess.
But also so happy and excited.
Will I be writing for FE3H??
Depends on how well it goes honestly. But most likely yes
Thank you @woundedsoul12 for the tag! And oh boyyyyyy. Y'all said you wanted more Teiago... Right?
A month passed. The bitterest, most lonesome month of Viago's life. Worse, even, than those early days among the fledglings, when he's been nothing more than Fulgeno's unwanted son. Viago hadn't known there could be a status lower than that.
Andarateia Cantori's loathed former lover proved to be the lowest of the low.
😬
I'll tag... @dread-red-queen @blackwall-my-tiny-husband @genjyoandgojyoandhakkai (no pressure as ever).
I'll also tag @serensama so she can scream at me some more 🤣.
I was tagged by @woundedsoul12 @elishnord and @jukkaricity (thank you!) to write a little something included a very particular word:
Defenestration
To throw a person or thing out of a window - assassination by defenestration
A usually swift dismissal or expulsion (as from a political party or office)
(full disclosure: I learned this word from Puppet History and I cackled when I saw it come up for this tag game 😂)
It just so happens that this word inspired a little moment in a future oneshot, so enjoy just a taste of that below:
Illario watched the body fall, waited until it hit the ground, partially obscured by the hedgerow it fell through. Caterina and Roberto were unlikely to approve of the damage to the gardens, but they could hardly blame him. This was a momentous occasion, after all!
What kind of Crow wedding would it be without at least one good defenestration?
Below him, Viago looked up and frowned. "This is not discreet."
Uhhhhh I'm gonna skip on tags because I'm at work and out of time 😂.
