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Shadow Milk was a very impatient kind of guy.
The kind that, if given the chance to be annoyed first thing in the morning, will gladly take it. Because honestly, who would just up and leave as early as 6:00 in the morning? Well, he could answer that. Pure Vanilla Cookie would.
He had woken up, lacking warmth around his limbs and replaced with the pillow he’d come to hate; That pillow was nowhere near warm enough to replace his utterly annoying excuse of a boyfriend.
Shadow Milk sat up with a frown, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand as he glanced at the empty space beside him. The sheets were still slightly warm, meaning Pure Vanilla hadn’t been gone long. He let out a low growl, tail flicking irritably against the mattress as he spotted the note on the bedside table—neatly folded, because of course it was. The script written in perfect cursive spelled out the usual excuses: urgent council matters, trade disputes, apologies for leaving so early—Bla, Bla, Bla. Again. Shadow Milk crumpled the paper in his fist, letting it bounce somewhere on the floor, hopefully under the bed with the rest of the garbage he kept down there.
He slid out of bed with a lazy stretch, his muscles protesting against the ache in his limbs. Grabbing one of Pure Vanilla’s too-perfect white robes from the hook, he slipped it on, the fabric smelling faintly of vanilla and Laundry Detergent. It was too long for him, dragging on the polished marble as he floated through the castle hallways, his bare feet not even touching the ground. A pair of servants who were carrying trays of pastries froze at the sight of him, eyes wide with terror. One dropped a croissant, and he could’ve sworn the other started praying—ah, he loved his new home. Shadow Milk snickered, baring his teeth in a sharp grin as they scrambled away, the sound of their frantic footsteps echoing down the corridor. His grin quickly fell as he remembered his goal. Ugh, now to find that idiot.
The council meeting hall was impossible to miss—even from three corridors away, the shouting was obnoxious. Shadow Milk paused outside the kitchen, the scent of blueberries and lemon zest luring him in. He floated inside, ignoring the terrified pastry chef who dropped a rolling pin, and snatched a warm blueberry-lemon scone from a cooling rack. He took a huge bite, crumbs scattering on Pure Vanilla’s robe as he chewed loudly. The pastry chef stared, trembling, and Shadow Milk only swallowed, licked his fingers, and grinned. "Sue me," he mumbled around another mouthful, "they’re fucking delicious." He grabbed two more before drifting out, leaving the chef hyperventilating against the counter—dramatic much?
He followed the escalating noise—something about the Dark Cacao Kingdom and foods—until he reached the towering double doors of the council chamber. Through the crack, he spotted Pure Vanilla at the head of the table, looking serene( minus the irritation carving itself onto his face) while Clotted Cream Cookie and Strawberry Crème Cookie screamed at each other over the trades with Said Kingdom. Shadow Milk rolled his eyes. Pathetic. With a flick of his wrist, he dissolved into shadow, slipping through the gap like spilled ink. He reformed silently behind Pure Vanilla’s ornate chair, unnoticed as the council bickered.
"Dark Cacao refuses to trade their share!" Strawberry Crème slammed his fist on the table, sending a teacup rattling. "They hoard them like dragons hoard gold! Our Farmers yield twice as much as last season! They owe us!”
Clotted Cream scoffed, adjusting his cravat with disdain. "Farmers? Please. Your yields are irrelevant when your representative throws tantrums like a spoiled child." Strawberry Crème flushed crimson. "Child?! I'm older than your powdered wig, you pompous—“ Pure Vanilla raised a hand, his calm smile cracking slightly. " Please, if we could—" Clotted Cream talked over him, gesturing sharply. "Dark Cacao demands premium prices for subpar wheat while hoarding our sugar exports! It’s extortion!" Strawberry Crème leaned forward, voice rising. "Exactly! And your solution is groveling? Pathetic!”
Pure Vanilla’s knuckles whitened where they rested on the polished table. "Gentlemen," he began, voice tight, "a measured compromise—" Strawberry Crème slammed his fist again. "Compromise? They spit on compromise!" Clotted Cream sneered. "Unlike some, I prefer diplomacy over childish outbursts." Pure Vanilla’s jaw clenched, a rare flicker of genuine frustration crossing his face as he was drowned out again. Behind his chair, Shadow Milk’s form rippled with silent amusement. Ah, how did they not notice him yet? He could’ve easily crushed them all by now.
Enough. Shadow Milk snapped his fingers—sharp, echoing like a gunshot. The chandeliers plunged into darkness. Gasps erupted as thick shadows swallowed the room, cold and suffocating. Then, a pair of glowing blue eyes materialized in the center of the table, followed by sharp teeth glinting in the gloom. Shadow Milk reformed fully, crouched low like a predator, tail lashing. The council froze mid-shout, faces paling. Clotted Cream choked on his next insult. Pure Vanilla sighed, smiling softly as his shoulders rested . "Shadow Milk.”
"Insolent worms," Shadow Milk hissed, claws tapping the polished wood. "You screech like barn cats over wheat and sugar while ignoring the King who feeds you." He tilted his head, grin widening at Strawberry Crème’s trembling lip. "Dark Cacao hoards? Fine. Stop sending them sugar. Flood the market here. Drop prices until their hoarded wheat rots." He leaned toward Clotted Cream, breath frosting the air. "And you—offer Golden Cheese’s Area our excess sugar for her jewels. She adores sweets. They’ll pay triple." Silence hung thick. Strawberry Crème stammered, "But—the alliance—" Shadow Milk scoffed. "Alliances bend. Starve their pride, not their bellies."
His smile vanished like blown-out candle smoke. He leveled a glare at Clotted Cream—cold, sharp—then Strawberry Crème—pathetic. His gaze swept the stunned council members. "You?" He jabbed a claw toward the door. "Out. Now." The snarl ripped from his throat, primal and final. Chairs scraped frantically. Clotted Cream stumbled over his robes. Strawberry Crème fled without a backward glance. Pure Vanilla stood swiftly, serene mask back in place. "A productive morning, friends," he called softly to their retreating backs. The heavy doors then thudded shut, leaving the two alone.
Pure Vanilla turned, the gentle practiced smile softening as he faced Shadow Milk. "Thank you," he murmured, stepping closer. "Truly. That was... unexpectedly brilliant." His fingers brushed Shadow Milk's wrist, warm against cool shadow-flesh. Shadow Milk scoffed, tail flicking dismissively, but didn't pull away. "Tired of hearing them yap so much." He leaned in, inhaling Pure Vanilla's familiar scent beneath the lingering council-room tension. "You owe me tenfold for making me deal with that and leaving me alone so early.”
Pure Vanilla sighed, the apology already forming on his lips. "I'm sorry, truly. The trade disputes escalated overnight, and—" Shadow Milk cut him off with a sharp, irritated scoff. His tail lashed like a whip, and one pointed ear twitched violently. Before Pure Vanilla could finish, Shadow Milk drifted upward, dissolving slightly at the edges as he floated horizontally in the air. He reclined as if lying on an invisible chaise lounge, arms crossed, glaring down at Pure Vanilla from his new vantage point. The white robe gaped open, revealing the smooth planes of his stomach and the low-slung waistband of his lace sewn panties. Pure Vanilla definitely did not look. "Excuses," he spat. "Always excuses. Dawn hasn't even properly broken, and you're already making excuses. Just say you don’t want to be with me anymore, and i’ll go!”
Pure Vanilla's frown deepened, genuine hurt flickering on his face. He stepped closer, reaching out to touch Shadow Milk's bare ankle where it dangled mid-air. "That's not true, and you know it." His thumb traced the delicate dough there, voice softening. "I left because the kingdom needs me. But you…you're my heart, Shadow Milk. My priority." He tilted his head up, meeting those furious blue eyes. "bluebird...”
Shadow Milk jerked his ankle away, twisting sharply in the air to face the wall. His tail lashed violently, the tip smacking the polished marble floor with a sharp crack. "Liar!" he hissed, the word thick with petulance. "You always have time for her! White Lily Cookie waltzes in like she just can and you drop everything! But I wake up cold and alone again!" The accusation was abrupt, sharpened by the unexpected venom in his voice. Pure Vanilla blinked, stunned. The frantic council meetings, the sudden departures… Shadow Milk had complained before, but never with this raw, pointed jealousy. White Lily? The realization dawned slowly, warming Pure Vanilla’s chest with a sharp pang of guilt.
Pure Vanilla frowned, having to tilt his head a bit to avoid Shadow Milk’s tail flicking his face.
Shadow Milk groaned, the sound thick with frustration. Blue light crackled around his claws as he sliced through the air, tearing open a swirling portal right beside Pure Vanilla. Before the king could react, Shadow Milk shoved him hard between the shoulder blades. Pure Vanilla stumbled forward with a soft gasp, vanishing into the shimmering rift. Shadow Milk floated through after him, the portal snapping shut behind him with a sharp pop, leaving the council chamber as silent as it had been before the birds had awoken earlier this morning.
They reappeared in their shared bedroom, the early morning light filtering through gauzy curtains. Pure Vanilla caught himself against the bedpost, robes askew. Shadow Milk rematerialized fully, landing barefoot on the plush rug. He jabbed a clawed finger toward Pure Vanilla’s chest. "Don't 'Bluebird' me!" he snarled, stalking closer. His tail lashed against Pure Vanilla's thigh, sharp and insistent. "As much as I hate repeating myself, I'll do it for your old self’s sake. You left me cold. Again. For them. And don't pretend it's just 'the kingdom'. You drop everything for her, too." He hissed, flicking one of Pure Vanillas horns—to which he winced, lifting a hand to rub said horn.
Pure Vanilla sighed, the sound heavy with exhaustion and affection. He sank onto the edge of their bed, the mattress dipping beneath his weight. Slowly, he held his arms out wide, palms open. "Come here," he murmured, his voice smooth like marble. Shadow Milk hesitated, glaring at the invitation. His fingers twitched as he stared at Him. Pure Vanilla didn't waver, his expression patient, open. "Please?" he added softly.
Shadow Milk huffed, tail lashing once more before he drifted forward. He landed roughly on Pure Vanilla's lap, knees digging into the soft mattress on either side of Pure Vanilla's thighs. He buried his face instantly into the crook of Pure Vanilla's neck, his voice muffled against warm dough. "Stupid," he mumbled, the insult lacking its usual bite. "Selfish... neglectful... idiot king..." Each word was punctuated by a sharp nuzzle against Pure Vanilla's collarbone. Pure Vanilla wrapped his arms securely around Shadow Milk's slender waist, pulling him closer. "Shh," he breathed, pressing a kiss to the top of Shadow Milk's head, right between the curved horns. "I'm here now. And I'm sorry. Truly sorry.”
Pure Vanilla gently rubbed circles into Shadow Milk's lower back, feeling the tense muscles slowly begin to unwind beneath his touch. "The kingdom demands much," he murmured, his lips brushing against Shadow Milk's ear. "But you are my sanctuary, Bluebird. My heart aches when I leave you cold." Shadow Milk shifted slightly, his breath hitching. A low, needy whine escaped him, vibrating against Pure Vanilla's chest. His hips pressed down unconsciously, seeking friction against Pure Vanilla's thigh. Pure Vanilla's hands stilled for a moment, then slid lower, tracing the curve of Shadow Milk's spine down to the swell of his hips. "Ah," Pure Vanilla breathed, understanding dawning as he felt the unnatural heat radiating through the thin lace panties, the dampness already seeping onto his robe. "Your heat started?”
Shadow Milk shuddered violently, claws digging into Pure Vanilla's shoulders. "Y-yes," he choked out, the word thick with frustration and building desperation. "All morning... you gone... arguing gnats..." His hips rocked again, grinding down harder against Pure Vanilla's thigh, a sharp gasp escaping him as the pressure hit just right. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes—not from sadness, but the overwhelming, raw ache of need. Pure Vanilla’s expression softened into pure tenderness mixed with his own growing arousal. "Oh, my beautiful Bluebird," he whispered, his voice rough. He tilted Shadow Milk's chin up, forcing those watery blue eyes to meet his own. "I've neglected you terribly, Haven’t I?”
Pure Vanilla leaned in, capturing Shadow Milk’s lips in a deep kiss. It wasn't gentle, no. It was messy, fueled by apology and a hunger that mirrored Shadow Milk’s own. One hand slid firmly down Shadow Milk’s spine, cupping the swell of his ass, pulling him impossibly closer against his hardening length. The other hand tangled in the hair at Shadow Milk’s nape, angling his head for better access. Shadow Milk melted into the kiss, a needy moan vibrating against Pure Vanilla's mouth. His tail coiled tightly around Pure Vanilla’s waist, anchoring himself as he surrendered to the onslaught of sensation—the taste of vanilla, the scrape of teeth, the dizzying friction against his aching clit. Pure Vanilla broke the kiss only to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down Shadow Milk’s jawline and throat, his breath ghosting over sensitive skin. "Tell me," he murmured against Shadow Milk’s pulse point, his thumb rubbing deliberate circles over the soaked lace covering Shadow Milk’s slit. "Tell me how much you need me.”
Shadow Milk gasped, hips bucking helplessly against the touch. "Sh-shut up," he choked out, claws digging into Pure Vanilla’s shoulders. "Just—just touch me properly, you infuriating—ah!" His protest dissolved into a sharp cry as Pure Vanilla’s fingers hooked into the waistband of the flimsy lace panties, tearing them away with a single, effortless motion. The cool air hit Shadow Milk’s wetness, making him shudder violently. Pure Vanilla’s gaze darkened, drinking in the sight—the glistening folds, the swollen clit, the sheer vulnerability. "So beautiful," he breathed, his voice thick with reverence. He traced a single finger slowly through the slick heat, gathering moisture before circling Shadow Milk’s clit with torturously light pressure. Shadow Milk’s head fell back, a desperate whine tearing from his throat. "Nilla—!..”
Pure Vanilla leaned in, capturing Shadow Milk’s parted lips in a deep, consuming kiss. His tongue swept into the other’s mouth, mimicking the slow, deliberate circles his fingers were tracing around Shadow Milk’s throbbing clit. He swallowed every needy gasp, every choked-off moan, his own breath mingling with Shadow Milk’s frantic pants. The kiss was messy, open-mouthed, and passionate, Pure Vanilla’s free hand cradling the back of Shadow Milk’s head, holding him close as his fingers continued their maddening tease. Shadow Milk writhed, trying to grind down onto the fingers, but Pure Vanilla held him firm, denying the direct pressure he craved, drawing out the torment with agonizing slowness. Tears welled anew in Shadow Milk’s eyes, spilling over onto his flushed cheeks—frustration and overwhelming need.
"Words, Bluebird," Pure Vanilla murmured against his lips, his voice a low purr that vibrated through Shadow Milk’s core. He broke the kiss, leaning back just enough to watch the raw desperation etched on Shadow Milk’s face. His thumb brushed away a tear track, then traced the curve of Shadow Milk’s lower lip. "Tell me what you need." His fingers remained hovering just above Shadow Milk’s entrance, slick with arousal but refusing to dip inside. He pressed a soft, lingering kiss to Shadow Milk’s damp cheekbone. "Show me how much you missed me." Shadow Milk whimpered, his hips jerking helplessly. He tried to speak, but only a ragged sob escaped. Pure Vanilla’s gaze was patient, tender, yet utterly unyielding. "Say it.”
Shadow Milk squeezed his eyes shut, humiliation warring with the molten need pooling low in his belly. His claws dug deeper into Pure Vanilla’s shoulders, drawing faint lines of dough. "P-please," he choked out, the word foreign and thick on his tongue. Pure Vanilla hummed, a sound of encouragement that sent another shiver through him. His thumb circled Shadow Milk’s clit again, feather-light, maddening. "Please what, my love?" Shadow Milk gasped, arching off Pure Vanilla’s lap, only to be pulled back down firmly. "Stop teasing!" he cried, tears flowing freely now. "J-just... fill me! Please, Vanilla, I need it... need you inside... now!" The plea tore from him, raw and stripped of all pride. What a pitiful display for a Beast such as himself.
Pure Vanilla’s expression softened into pure adoration, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "There we are," he murmured, his voice warm honey. He pressed a tender kiss to Shadow Milk’s trembling lips, tasting salt from his tears. "So perfect when you ask so sweetly." In one smooth motion, he shifted Shadow Milk slightly, aligning himself. The blunt, slick head of his cock pressed insistently against Shadow Milk’s soaked entrance. Shadow Milk keened, high and desperate, his tail wrapping tighter around Pure Vanilla’s waist as he braced himself.
He leaned down, his breath hot against Shadow Milk’s ear, lips brushing the sensitive shell. "I love you," he whispered, the words softly spoken. "My beautiful Bluebird." Then, without warning, he surged forward, burying himself to the hilt in one sharp, deep thrust. Shadow Milk cried out, a ragged sound torn from his throat as his back arched violently off the bed. His eyes flew wide, tears spilling anew—shock, relief, the overwhelming stretch burning through the ache of his heat. Pure Vanilla held still, buried deep, letting Shadow Milk shudder and clench around him, his own breath catching at the tight, wet heat gripping his cock so tightly.
Slowly, agonizingly slowly, Pure Vanilla withdrew, dragging his length almost entirely out until only the tip remained nestled at Shadow Milk’s entrance. He paused there, watching the desperate flutter of Shadow Milk’s lashes, the way his hips strained upwards seeking friction, seeking him. “Nilla..." Shadow Milk gasped, voice thin and broken. "Don't—don't stop..." Pure Vanilla smiled, tender and patient. "Tell me," he murmured, his thumb brushing a tear from Shadow Milk’s cheekbone. "What do you need?" He waited, poised, the tension thick. Shadow Milk whimpered, claws scrabbling weakly at the sheets. "More," he choked out. "Faster…please?”
Pure Vanilla surged back in with a force that stole Shadow Milk’s breath, setting a punishingly deep, rapid pace immediately. His hips pistoned, driving into that slick heat with zero hesitation given the go, the wet slap of skin echoing aside the squeak of the bed. "Mine," he gasped between thrusts, his voice rough with emotion, losing its usual serene control. "Only mine, Bluebird. No one else sees you like this... yearns for you like this." He leaned down, capturing Shadow Milk’s lips in a fierce, biting kiss. "Those wretched witches," he snarled against Shadow Milk’s mouth, punctuating each word with a sharp snap of his hips. "Damning you for a single misstep? Casting you out? They should burn where they rot for that cruelty." His thrusts grew harder, deeper, as if driving the point home physically. Shadow Milk cried out, his body arching, overwhelmed by the relentless invasion and the raw hatred in Pure Vanilla’s voice. Gods, this could not be the same Pure Vanilla that offered him friendship— perhaps he truly did taint him…he could almost cry from how proud he is of Pure Vanilla for not being disgustingly sweet!
Pure Vanilla’s hand tangled in Shadow Milk’s hair, pulling his head back to expose the pale column of his throat. He latched onto the pulse point, sucking a bruising mark as his hips never faltered. "They burdened you with the world’s weight," he growled, the words muffled against Shadow Milk’s skin, hot and wet. "Before you even understood it. Before you were ready. It wasn't yours to carry alone." His free hand slid down, fingers finding Shadow Milk’s swollen clit, rubbing tight, frantic circles in time with his thrusts. "Not your fault," he breathed, his voice cracking. "Never your fault they broke you for it." Shadow Milk sobbed, the dual sensations and the unexpected, vehement defense shattering him. Tears streamed freely, mixing with sweat, his claws tearing at the sheets as pleasure coiled impossibly tight inside him. Pure Vanilla worshipped him with every punishing thrust and every ragged, loving word. He felt like he was minutes away from deaths door if he kept hitting his cervix like that.
Shadow Milk’s hands flew up, trembling fingers wrapping tightly around the base of Pure Vanilla’s horns. He pulled, not to stop him, but to anchor himself, to drag him closer. "Vanilla!" he cried out, his voice raw and broken, syllables dissolving into incoherent babble. "T-too much—yes!—don’t stop—your fault—you left—ah!—faster, please!" His hips bucked wildly, meeting each deep plunge, his tail thrashing against the mattress. Pure Vanilla’s brows furrow, his head tilting slightly. ‘You left’? Ah, is he talking about when I had left his spire? Hm..Conversation for later I suppose. With a shake of his head, he continued to hold his lover.
The words tumbled out, a chaotic mix of accusation, plea, and surrender, punctuated by sharp gasps as Pure Vanilla’s cock hit that perfect spot inside him again and again. "M-mark me," he choked out between ragged breaths, his grip on the horns tightening. "W-want them to see—ah!—You-!”
Pure Vanilla understood instantly. He bent his head, teeth scraping the delicate skin where Shadow Milk’s shoulder met his neck. Not gentle, not hesitant. A sharp bite, deep enough to bruise, to brand. Shadow Milk cried out, a sound of pure ecstasy mixed with pain, his body arching off the bed as pleasure detonated through him. His walls clenched rhythmically around Pure Vanilla’s cock, slick heat pulsing as his climax ripped through him, leaving him trembling and gasping, tears streaming freely down his flushed cheeks. Pure Vanilla groaned, the tight, fluttering pressure dragging him over the edge moments later. He buried himself deep, hips stuttering as he spilled inside Shadow Milk, The thick liquid spluttering against his womb, A few drops dripping out from around his length. warmth flooding him, his own release shuddering through him with a shaky moan. He collapsed forward, catching his weight on his forearms, his breath hot and ragged against Shadow Milk’s sweat-slicked neck. Gods, That took a toll on his poor limbs.
For a long moment, the only sounds were their harsh breathing and the frantic thud of their hearts. Pure Vanilla pressed soft, lingering kisses to the bite mark he’d left, tasting salt and dough. He started to pull out slowly, carefully, mindful of Shadow Milk’s oversensitivity. But before he could withdraw completely, Shadow Milk’s hips snapped up, grinding against him with surprising strength. Pure Vanilla hissed, a sharp intake of breath escaping him as he was dragged back into that tight, wet heat. He looked up, startled. Shadow Milk gazed back at him through half-lidded eyes, a faint, utterly smug smirk playing on his swollen lips. His chest still heaved, his body trembled, but that expression was unmistakable. Pure Vanilla chuckled, a low, breathless sound. Ah. He’d forgotten. His Bluebird, wrung out and trembling, still possessed the relentless stamina of a beast. "Insatiable," Pure Vanilla murmured, his voice rough with amusement and renewed arousal. He brushed a damp strand of hair from Shadow Milk’s forehead. "Still not satisfied?”
Shadow Milk’s smirk widened into a sharp, challenging grin. "You think one round settles the debt?" he rasped, his voice wrecked but laced with heat. His legs, still trembling slightly, wrapped tighter around Pure Vanilla’s waist, locking him in place. "You left me cold," he purred, claws tracing idle patterns on Pure Vanilla’s back. "Neglected me all morning. While I burned." He rolled his hips deliberately, drawing a low groan from Pure Vanilla. "One quick fuck won't make up for that, my dear King." His tail coiled possessively around Pure Vanilla’s thigh, the tip flicking against his skin. "You owe me hours." His expression softened slightly, the challenge melting into something needier. "Don't stop," he whispered, his earlier defiance replaced by a raw, vulnerable plea. "Not yet.”
Pure Vanilla gazed down at him, his expression a mix of awe and tender amusement. He traced a thumb over Shadow Milk’s kiss-swollen lips, feeling the slight tremor beneath his touch. A thoughtful hum vibrated in his chest. Gently, he hooked a finger beneath Shadow Milk’s chin, tilting his head back. Shadow Milk’s breath hitched, his eyes widening slightly in anticipation, but he didn’t resist. He parted his lips obediently, a soft sigh escaping him. Pure Vanilla leaned down, his own lips hovering just above Shadow Milk’s. He paused, letting a thick strand of his own saliva gather on his lower lip, glistening in the soft light. Then, with deliberate slowness, he let it fall. The warm, slick droplet landed directly onto Shadow Milk’s waiting tongue.
Shadow Milk’s entire body clenched. A sharp, needy gasp tore from his throat as the taste—unmistakably Pure Vanilla, sweet and strong—hit his senses. His cunt fluttered violently around Pure Vanilla’s softening cock, still buried deep inside him, a fresh wave of slickness coating the king’s length. Heat coiled low in his belly, sharp and insistent, reigniting the embers his climax had only momentarily banked. His claws dug into Pure Vanilla’s back, not in pain, but in desperate affirmation. The simple, filthy act sent a jolt through him far stronger than any elaborate touch. Witches, why did this turn him on more than penetration?
Pure Vanilla lifted himself slightly onto his forearms, his gaze fixed on Shadow Milk’s face. He watched intently as Shadow Milk swallowed, the pale column of his throat working. A soft, breathless chuckle escaped Pure Vanilla’s lips. Shadow Milk’s eyes, still glazed with tears and lust, locked onto his. Without a word, Shadow Milk opened his mouth again, wider this time, his violet tongue slightly extended in silent, demanding invitation. Pure Vanilla’s expression shifted, amusement melting into something needier, more …not very subtle. He leaned down, his lips hovering just above Shadow Milk’s. Instead of letting saliva drip, he gathered it deliberately, then spat—a thick, warm stream landing squarely on Shadow Milk’s tongue once more, sliding in smoothly as his throat works to swallow it whilst keeping his mouth open.
Pure Vanilla nipped sharply at Shadow Milk’s cheekbone, his voice a low, rough murmur against flushed skin. "You’re trembling, Bluebird. Are you certain you can take more?" Shadow Milk’s response was immediate—a frantic nod, his claws digging into Pure Vanilla’s shoulders. "Don’t you dare stop," he hissed, hips grinding upwards in emphasis. With a swift, fluid motion, Pure Vanilla gripped Shadow Milk’s hips and flipped him onto his hands and knees. His cock slid out with a wet sound, a trickle of spend dripping onto the sheets beneath Shadow Milk’s trembling thighs. Pure Vanilla’s hand snaked down, fingers brushing the slick mess. "Don’t worry," he murmured, his thumb pressing firmly against Shadow Milk’s swollen clit, making him jolt. "I’ll replace what dripped out.”
He positioned himself, tip against entrance once more. His other hand gripping firmly around the base of Shadow Milk’s thrashing tail, wrapping it around his palm. "Hold still," Pure Vanilla commanded softly. Then, in one brutal yank on the tail, he pulled Shadow Milk back hard and deep onto his cock, sheathing himself to the hilt. Shadow Milk cried out, a raw, shattered sound muffled as Pure Vanilla shoved his face down into the sweat-dampened sheets, pinning him there. He knew he liked that, last he did so was the time Shadow Milk came harder than he ever had. The position, the sharp tug on his tail, the overwhelming fullness as if it was his first time all over again—it stole his breath, leaving him gasping, tears soaking the fabric beneath his cheek. Pure Vanilla held him like that, buried deep, letting him feel every inch, the grip on his tail tightening as he gave it a little squeeze .
Pure Vanilla leaned forward, his chest pressing against Shadow Milk’s arched back. He nipped at the shell of his ear, his breath hot and ragged. "You take me so well," he murmured, the smell of blueberries and sweat strong. "So deep. Claiming you like this..." He began to move, slow, deliberate thrusts that dragged his cock almost entirely out before slamming back in with force. Each withdrawal pulled a choked whimper from Shadow Milk; each thrust punched the air from his lungs, his body rocking forward with the impact. Pure Vanilla kept his face pressed down, the rough feel of the sheets scraping against Shadow Milk’s flushed cheek. The tail wrapped around Pure Vanilla’s hand was used as leverage, pulling Shadow Milk back onto each thrust, ensuring no escape from the depth. Shadow Milk could only sob, his fingers clawing uselessly at the mattress, overwhelmed by the unrelenting invasion moving in no rhythm at all. His mind was blank, and he was in a state of pure bliss.
Pure Vanilla’s rhythm faltered, his thrusts growing erratic, less controlled. His grunts became louder, sharper, punctuating the wet slap of skin. His grip on Shadow Milk’s tail tightened painfully, pulling it taut as he drove in harder, faster. "Fuck—Bluebird—" he gasped, his voice thick and strained. He was close, his hips stuttering, losing their punishing pace. Shadow Milk felt the telltale twitch deep inside him, the swelling heat. A ragged groan tore from Pure Vanilla’s throat as he buried himself to the hilt, holding Shadow Milk flush against him. His release pulsed hot and thick, flooding Shadow Milk’s core, spilling around the edges where they were joined. Pure Vanilla shuddered violently, collapsing slightly over Shadow Milk’s back, his breath gusting hot against Shadow Milk’s back. He stayed buried, hips jerking with the last weak spurts that surely went deep in his womb.
Slowly, carefully, Pure Vanilla pulled out. Shadow Milk whined high in his throat at the sudden emptiness, a pitiful sound that echoed in the sudden quiet. He felt the slick slide of Pure Vanilla’s softening cock leaving him, but no telltale gush of spend followed. It was all trapped deep inside, a heavy, warm weight that made him clench involuntarily around nothing. Pure Vanilla shifted, his movements languid, spent. He settled beside Shadow Milk on the rumpled sheets, propping himself up on one elbow. His gaze, heavy-lidded and satisfied, drifted down Shadow Milk’s trembling form. He reached out, fingers trailing lazily through the mess of slick and sweat on Shadow Milk’s inner thighs.
Shadow Milk moans as Pure Vanilla’s fingers rub at his clit, slick gathering to coat the nub beautifully, his back arching as he came with a loud cry.
Pure Vanilla pressed his fingers down harder, the vibrations of his lover’s moans shaking his limp body. He watched as Shadow Milk’s frame tensed, his hips lifting off the mattress as he came, his back arching beautifully. The sheets beneath his face were soaked with sweat and tears, his claws digging into the fabric as he cried out. Pure Vanilla kept rubbing, the slickness making it easy to glide over the sensitive nub, drawing out the orgasm until Shadow Milk’s body went limp, his hips dropping back to the mattress with a soft thud.
Ah, what a productive morning.