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The late afternoon light spilled into Pure Vanilla’s room from the doorway to his balcony, the melodic chirps of bluebirds echoing and flowing in the expanse of the large space. The air was still, only interrupted by the occasional spring breeze.
Pure Vanilla’s quill bled ink upon parchment, smooth black loops appearing from beneath his hand.
He had dedicated his entire day off to his desk, signing his name on request papers and wrapping up nearly overdue letter drafts. A small pile began accumulating in the corner of his workspace, each new sheet adding to the pile. Even when he wasn’t required to leave his castle for meetings and volunteer work, he was still burdened with extra assignments that needed finishing.
But there was a silver lining to this situation: he finally had a chance to wear casual clothes. It was a refreshing break from his usual attire, and oddly enough, he didn’t mind it one bit. It was a nice change, a welcome change. However, he did have to admit it felt a bit strange to be without his usual undergarments: a skin-tight bodysuit, detached sleeves, and his stockings.
In their place, he wore a compressing tank top Shadow Milk had crafted for him, the softest pajama pants he’d ever owned, and a “gift” from his beloved, originally presented to him in a sleek black box not too long ago.
He recalled the surprise he felt when he opened it to see a pair of lacy underwear nestled in velvet, accompanied by a note that read “I hope to see these on you soon” in Shadow Milk’s handwriting.
For a while, the delicate piece had spent some time gathering dust in his closet. Mainly from dreading how it would look on him, and the inevitable embarrassment he would feel if one of his butlers sifted through his laundry and had to lay their eyes upon something completely out of his usual wheelhouse.
But when he had finally mustered the courage to try it on… he didn’t hate it.
He didn’t hate how it looked on him, he didn’t hate how it felt—primarily because it was like wearing literal clouds—and he wasn’t even preoccupied with how others would perceive it.
That said, he had made it a point to always wash that particular item himself. When weighing his options, he preferred the peace of mind that came from avoiding a barrage of questions.
Unlike his usual undergarments, he didn’t feel dizzy when he focused too hard on how much the tank top compressed his body. Sure, he appreciated the snug fit, but at times, it had felt a bit too tight. And sitting at his desk whenever he was on the verge of throwing up due to the pressure on his stomach wasn’t the best for his work ethic.
He had silently promised himself to wear such articles of clothing more often. At least, that way, there’d be easier access for whenever Shadow Milk decided to feel up on his body. He was getting a bit tired of constantly replacing or asking his beloved to mend his clothes.
Just then, he heard the doorknob rattle. His hand stilled, and his grip on the quill tightened. His shoulders tensed when the door swung open, but his mind was able to calm down a little when he heard the telltale sign of the Beast’s presence: a way too loud exclamation of his name.
He swore to the Witches that every single time he thought about Shadow Milk, it was as if he could sense it. His timing was impeccable sometimes.
“PURE VANILLAA! MY DARRLINGG~!”
That was nothing short of expected.
Pure Vanilla set down his quill, bracing himself for whatever outlandish proposition or bizarre conversation topic Shadow Milk had in store. It wasn’t like he’d get any real work done with him around anyway, even as he kept his gaze fixed on the clutter of papers.
He could hear the rustle of clothes and the whoosh of the Beast traveling mid-air; when he couldn’t rely on footsteps to determine his location, Pure Vanilla had naturally learned to keep an ear out for other sounds instead. Eventually, the commotion stopped, indicating Shadow Milk was likely right at the first step leading up to his desk.
“‘Nilla! ‘Nilly! ‘Nill ‘Nills! I have something super important to tell you!”
His voice was proof.
The Ancient turned his head to look down at him. “Is it something I have to leave my desk for?”
Shadow Milk pouted. Wildly unnecessary. Though, the Ancient had a feeling deep in his chest that he knew the next words that were about to fall out of the Beast’s mouth.
“Oh, but of course! Unless… I’m intruding on any of your precious work time?”
Pure Vanilla sighed, pushing himself up from his desk chair. “Does it matter? I’m sure you would’ve told me anyway.” He made his way down the incline, finally getting a better look at his beloved’s face, which was just begging for attention.
“No, no! I’ll totally back off if my presence…”
Lying on his back mid-air, Shadow Milk threw a hand over his face and produced a large, chest-heaving sigh.
“...isn’t wanted.”
Despite everything, Pure Vanilla couldn’t help but crack a smile.
He reached the bottom of the incline and met with the Beast, who was still in his theatrical pose. “I’m sure you would. But, I’m able to take a break from my work for a while.”
Shadow Milk peered through his fingers, his eyes practically glowing. He plastered a huge grin on his face as his feet hit the ground. “Well, if you insist!”
But that grin quickly faded as he tilted his head, and a voice ridden with attention-seeking syrup spilled out from Shadow Milk’s throat. “I must say, I’ve been getting… bored, as of late.”
“Bored?”
“Well—not bored, but in the need of somethingg… different.”
Different. That word never meant anything tame.
An exasperated sigh left through Pure Vanilla’s nose, and a knowing smile tenderly painted itself onto his face. “Like what, my dear?”
Shadow Milk’s eyes darted around the room obliviously as he dug a thumb into his palm, framing his thoughts like a confused student trying to clarify a difficult topic in a lesson. “Have you ever fantasized about… not being the one on bottom? Being the one ruining instead of being ruined? Plowing instead of getting plowed?”
…Though, those words belonged nowhere near a classroom.
“Well… not exactly.”
That honest answer earned him an eye roll. Rude.
“Well, anyways, I was thinking instead of you being fucked, you could be doing the fucking.”
Pure Vanilla glanced down, his eyes flitting from Shadow Milk’s groin to his own. He raised an eyebrow.
How did he expect that to work?
The Ancient returned his gaze to Shadow Milk, neatly folding his hands together; the perfect pose for when he was having an awkward conversation and didn’t know what to do with his hands. He would’ve fiddled with the fabric of his robes, but anything there was either skin-tight nylon or polyester fleece. “And… how would you propose we do that?”
Shadow Milk scoffed. Confidence that seemed a bit too misplaced for someone who hadn’t even explained his idea yet.
But he closed the distance between them, and his expression became stone cold. He stared into Pure Vanilla’s eyes with an almost predatory glint that definitely wasn’t there before. “Have you forgotten I have magic?”
Apparently.
Shadow Milk raised his hand, pausing once it reached his face. “I can easily change what’s down there with a snap of my…” He snapped, the crack of his fingers expelling an icy chill, “...fingers.”
…And yet, Pure Vanilla couldn’t help but feel like someone was missing out on some special treatment.
The Ancient brushed the fuzz of his pants with his thumb, glancing down before looking back into the endless abyss that was his beloved’s eyes. “...And what about me? You can’t change mine.”
Shadow Milk looked like he was holding back from bursting out into laughter. “You don’t think I have a solution for that, either?”
Paired with him finally taking a step back, he held his hands out, palms face up. Just as Pure Vanilla was about to place his hands on his own, a dark bud of smoke manifested in the Beast’s hands, blooming to reveal a burgundy dildo and a sleek black harness. The Ancient’s eyes widened, his hands swiftly retreating to his torso.
“I have practically everything I want at the tip of my fingers.” Shadow Milk curled his fingers around the shaft of the dildo, his mind clearly already swirling with ideas. “Or, in this case, in my palms.”
Pure Vanilla, on the other hand, was speechless. Not because of the boldness—he was used to that—but rather how sudden it all felt. Sexual matters had barely been taboo between them, but it was something else entirely for Shadow Milk to suggest switching roles so abruptly.
The Ancient’s eyes slowly scanned the toy in his hands, his mind still racing to process the sight Shadow Milk had so bluntly displayed.
With a dry throat ready to crack under pressure, he finally pushed out words. “When did you get that?”
“Whatever do you mean?”
Pure Vanilla blinked, remaining almost prudish with his gestures. “That… thing. You would’ve had to own it for a while if you were to suddenly teleport it here.” He looked back at the Beast’s face, his puzzlement being met with cheekiness. “Just how long have you had that?”
But of course, he didn’t get a straightforward answer. Why would he? The decency of giving proper answers when being asked simple questions was something that had been lost upon Shadow Milk for so long that Pure Vanilla felt silly for even expecting it. “It’s called a strap-on, my dear; you don’t have to worry your pretty little head about anything else.”
“I’m well aware of what it is; I just—”
Shadow Milk’s hand shot up to cover his mouth. Apparently, he didn’t deserve the luxury of speaking, either.
“Be quiet. You don’t have to be anywhere today, do you?”
Pure Vanilla shook his head.
“That means you have plenty of time for me, then?”
Pure Vanilla nodded.
“Then shut up and stop acting like you’ve never heard of sex before.”
Shadow Milk withdrew his hand from the Ancient’s face and turned on his heel, heading towards his bed. Before he got too far, he gestured for him to follow. “Come on.”
Pure Vanilla blinked before trailing close behind, obeying like an eager puppy. It was somewhat ironic, following orders right before stepping into a dominant role. He might have giggled about it if it weren’t for the situation at hand.
Shadow Milk perched himself on the foot of Pure Vanilla’s bed, tossing the strap-on aside before rolling off his leggings and boxers and throwing them to the floor. He spread his legs, fully putting himself on display. “Finger me.”
Pure Vanilla stared, taken aback. “You’re awfully direct.”
“What else did you expect? For me to beat around the bush? You’re funny.”
The Ancient stepped closer, and ran his hands along the Beast’s thighs. Subtle scars that had to have been decades old circled them, like tattoos that were seared into his skin. He could see—feel—Shadow Milk flinch slightly as he lingered over them. He could tell his touch (at least on his thighs) wasn’t unwanted, but it wasn’t entirely comfortable either.
Shadow Milk shifted, steadying his hand. “I’m sure you’re well acquainted with this step, right?”
Pure Vanilla’s fingers ghosted over Shadow Milk’s pussy; warmth radiated from it, painting his hand with a thick layer of sexual tension. “A bit more than I’d like.” He tilted his head, curiosity piqued. “I wonder how your body differs from mine…”
“How about you stop wondering and actually experiment? You know how this goes.” The Beast’s voice dropped to a low growl. Clearly impatient. On the literal edge of his seat. He attempted to push himself forward, his hands slipping as he tried to get even just the tips of Pure Vanilla’s fingers on his body.
As Pure Vanilla stared (more so gawked), memories of their past encounters replayed in his head, all coming together to curate a personal, mind-made guide. He pressed two fingers politely, almost obliviously, before sliding them in.
Shadow Milk was incredibly wet.
The Ancient subconsciously scrunched his nose at the sound, at the little squelch that was quiet but still so noticeable. Admittedly, being on this side was messing with his head; every action done so far was so unfamiliar and foreign.
…But also so enticingly new.
He’d realized something—he’d finally be the one to rattle off all of those flirty phrases, to tease and be seductive. And all of it, he’d learned from his beloved.
“You’re so wet,” he breathed, his gaze flicking upward. “How long were you thinking about this today before you came to me?”
Suddenly, the Beast refused to look him in the eyes. “...Not too long.”
“Mhm. Surely.”
Pure Vanilla’s other hand kept his legs open, pressing firmly on his thigh as his main hand thrust in and out of Shadow Milk. Witches—he couldn’t get his mind off of just how perfectly his love’s pussy welcomed his fingers, as if he were made just for him.
He wasn’t even the one being touched, yet his mind was already clouded with enough lust that he could convince someone otherwise.
“You take my fingers so easily…” Pure Vanilla mumbled, voice silky with lust.
“Save all that for when you actually fuck me, won’t you?” Shadow Milk bit back, glaring at the Ancient. But his tone wasn’t all that threatening. In fact, it came off incredibly desperate.
“But I never see you like this. Why must I save anything?”
“Because you sound pathetic.”
Pure Vanilla leaned in, pushing his hand even harder into Shadow Milk’s thigh. “Isn’t that what you like most about me?”
The Ancient began to change his pace. His speed decreased, but his thumb deviated to rest upon the Beast’s clit, rubbing slow, firm circles against it.
Shadow Milk gasped, and his thigh jerked from beneath Pure Vanilla’s hand. “I— S–Shut up.”
“I’m not sure if I want to, my dear,” the Ancient muttered, adjusting to the new position of his hand. He looked back down at his beloved’s cunt, his voice taking on the same cadence that he’d heard several times before. “Do you like this? Does it feel nice?”
The Beast’s voice caught in his throat, making his supposed-to-be-snide comment into something far more pathetic-sounding. “H–How about you take a guess?”
Pure Vanilla whined, looking back up at Shadow Milk. “You always make me answer. Can’t you answer for me?”
“I don’t know what you think this is, but—ah!”
The Ancient curled his fingers, halting the movement of his thumb but still pressing firmly against his clit. He tilted his head, strands of his hair spilling past his shoulders. “You wanted to switch roles, didn’t you? I’m simply doing what you do to me.”
Shadow Milk stuttered, his expression the most confused Pure Vanilla had seen from him in a while. “Y–Yes, but—”
“Of course, you can still have an appropriate amount of control; you did want this to happen, after all.” He returned to thrusting, pushing his fingers in just a bit deeper with every thrust. “But why rob me of the opportunity of seeing you at your most vulnerable? Must you be so cruel?”
“T–This is tame.”
“You mean I could break you even further?”
“That was not an invitation.”
Pure Vanilla narrowed his eyes. A small fire of determination had lit somewhere in his body, fuel being added to it with every word. He didn’t notice, but his fingers grew rougher, more reckless. “Then why tell me? It’s like holding candy in front of a small child and expecting them not to take it.”
“Y–You’re greedy.”
“You’re even worse.”
Shadow Milk reached out to press on his shoulder, pushing him away. “I–I think that’s enough.”
As the Ancient clumsily stumbled backward, he noticed something. Shadow Milk was panting.
Pure Vanilla had managed to make him pant. And he hadn’t even properly fucked him yet. Silently, on the inside, he cheered.
“My body is more than ready for you to fuck me. Take your fingers out.”
The Ancient pouted, but listened anyway. He assumed his regular, proper position of standing up straight, but he wasn’t completely sure of what to do with his fingers, still covered in Shadow Milk’s slick.
The Beast grabbed the strap-on from beside him and descended from the edge of the bed to the floor, kneeling right in front of Pure Vanilla. He pointed to his legs. “First things first, take your pants off.” A look of confusion on the Ancient’s face prompted another sentence. “It’s easier to put on if you don’t have your clothes in the way. Take them off.”
That made enough sense. Pure Vanilla grabbed the waistband of his pants, pulled them over his thighs, then dropped them to the floor.
Shadow Milk snickered.
“What?”
“I wasn’t expecting you to actually wear these.” The Beast ran his hand along his underwear, tracing the intricate lace patterns near the back. “Didn’t know you’d be into the lacy look.”
“They’re comfortable…”
Another half laugh escaped Shadow Milk. “And I’m so happy for you. Now listen up.”
He suddenly snapped into professor mode, his face way closer to stern than it should’ve been. He held out the harness of the strap-on with both hands, looking up at Pure Vanilla to make sure he was paying attention to everything. “You see those big leg holes right there? Step into them.”
The Ancient carefully placed his feet in the middle of each hole, letting Shadow Milk pull it up and tighten it around his hips. He smiled as he let go, admiring his own work, in a way. “Okay. There you go.”
The Beast wrapped his fingers around the dildo, his eyes unnaturally unfocused as he stared at it. “Such a pretty color for you.”
Pure Vanilla nervously but anticipatingly watched Shadow Milk fiddle around with it, as well as readjust the harness, making it even tighter around his hips. It was strange how carefully he handled it, like he was polishing a delicate vase and not wrapping his hands all over a sex toy.
Pure Vanilla hadn’t even realized his arms were suspended awkwardly in the air, not daring to sway by his sides and distract his beloved. But eventually, he spoke, his words laced with pure confusion. “...Do you suppose I could put it in now?”
Shadow Milk paused, but he never looked away from the dildo. “I mean, you could, but because this isn’t exactly natural…” He firmly wrapped his fingers around the base of the dildo. “It’ll need some… extra lubrication.”
If Pure Vanilla wasn’t puzzled enough already, he definitely was now. He interlocked his fingers, pressing the resulting fist into his chest. “I already fingered you; shouldn’t that have been enough—oh!”
The Beast took almost the entire length of the dildo into his mouth, licking the shaft and hollowing his cheeks with every stroke. His nails dug into the Ancient’s thighs, keeping them in his grip.
For a moment, when only the tip was between his lips, he spared one single moment to look up at Pure Vanilla. “Nothing is ever enough, my dear.”
As he went back to sucking, the Ancient kept his limbs frozen. Not in fear, not even out of confusion anymore—it was an emotion he couldn’t place. Could barely describe.
He stuttered, words half forming in his head but unable to leave his mouth. “I–I…” He averted his eyes, looking at something plain to focus on so his mind could work. “Y–You know I don’t receive pleasure from this, right?”
“Does it matter?” Shadow Milk’s voice was muffled, his sentences and words broken up by slurping. “It was going to go in the same place anyway.”
Pure Vanilla couldn’t speak. The ability was completely ripped from him by his other half, and if he had any right mind, he’d assume Shadow Milk did that on purpose.
The more he stood there, though, the more comfortable he got and the more pleasure he felt. Physically, that wasn’t the case, but mentally? His viewpoint had almost completely changed. There was something so oddly gratifying about seeing Shadow Milk on his knees, servicing him in such an uncharacteristic way. While, in a literal sense, he couldn’t feel the warmth of his mouth, the swirls of his tongue, or the light grazes of his teeth, the phantom feelings he was getting were almost better.
He’d catch himself letting a small whimper escape his lips, or a lower groan that he could feel in his chest whenever Shadow Milk took the whole thing in his mouth. Yet, he still couldn’t figure out what to do with his hands.
At least, not until the Beast took the dildo out of his mouth to look up at him again.
“What are you doing? Don’t just stand there, grab my hair. Play with my head a little. It’s no fun when you’re just doing nothing.”
Hesitantly, Pure Vanilla obeyed, gently gathering hair at the back of Shadow Milk’s head and pushing him back onto the dildo. His “playing” was cautious at first, unsure of how to properly melt into a rhythm. But eventually, he found a tempo and steadily kept up with his own speed.
Subconsciously, while he was busy directing his beloved’s head, his other hand came up to cover his mouth. To cover his own sounds. His own whines of pleasure. It was something he’d seen Shadow Milk do a myriad of times, and now, on the other side, he finally understood why.
Soon enough, he became confident enough to test out different techniques, ones he knew too personally. He’d force the Beast’s head in place, keeping the whole length in his mouth, almost relishing the muffled gags and sudden gasps that graced his ears.
Really, it seemed like he was enjoying this a bit too much. But Pure Vanilla couldn’t find it in himself to care. To have control over his other half like this, especially considering their past, was strangely therapeutic.
But, soon enough, that had to come to an end.
Shadow Milk pushed on his thighs, fighting against the Ancient’s hand to pull his head away. He looked up at him with glossy eyes, one blink away from a tear trickling down his face. After a few heavy pants, he muttered. “I think you’re ready.”
Something in Pure Vanilla’s stomach twisted. Or more accurately, twirled. It was dancing and fluttering with something more distinct. Something easier to deduce.
Arousal.
Not the arousal that had already been with him this entire time; no, that had been his default state for a while now.
It was something more intense, more primal. It wasn’t the kind of heat that’d burn his core when he was anticipating being filled or seconds away from being claimed. It was barely even the kind when he was simply being pathetic, something more common when they were just getting started.
Suddenly, he understood why Shadow Milk liked topping him so much.
That thrill, that feeling of excitement that he and he alone would be the sole contributor to his beloved’s pleasure. That he could control how much he could give and how much he could take away, and the addictive feeling of being in control.
Pure Vanilla loved it. All of it.
Shadow Milk lifted himself back on the edge of his bed, spreading his legs again.
Some of the earlier confidence the Ancient had possessed depleted as he stared blankly at the Beast. After walking up to him, he looked him in the eyes, silently pleading for help. Shadow Milk sighed, lifting his upper half off the bed. “Do you need some instruction?”
“...Yes, please.”
His professor-like persona returned, yet it was far more impatient than it was the first time. He gestured as he spoke, resisting the temptation to grab as he did. “Okay. First, hold onto it so you can direct it.”
The Ancient subtly nodded, holding onto the base and keeping it still.
“Now come closer. There’s a clear target in mind, and poking and prodding anywhere else isn’t ideal.” The Beast looked up at Pure Vanilla, interrupting his flow. “You know where said ‘target’ is, right?”
“I’m well aware.”
The Ancient was unnecessarily methodical as he put the tip of the dildo right at the entrance of Shadow Milk’s pussy. His eyes flicked upward. “And then?”
“Put it in, you fool.”
Right before he did, Shadow Milk held a finger up. “Slowly.”
He slowly pressed it in, keeping his hands at the base of the dildo and intensely focusing to make sure he was doing… this properly. Quickly, though, the Beast spoke up. “It’s connected to your hips. You can just push them forward.”
“Sorry.”
Pure Vanilla’s hand trembled slightly as he relocated his hand, firmly pressing into the Beast’s thigh instead. He still kept a watchful eye downward, though. About midway, he could hear muffled, restrained moans. Sounds that wanted to flow out but weren’t allowed to.
He looked back up towards his beloved, his eyes full of expectation. Even with the new feelings, the need for guidance and permission still kept its place in his mind.
Shadow Milk lowered the upper half of his body to the bed, uttering his last few instructions. “Pull your hips back slowly, and then push them forward again— like how you would with your fingers. Thrusting isn’t that hard. You’ll get used to it.”
Pure Vanilla really took “slowly” to heart.
His version of a thrust was far more gentle than Shadow Milk had ever been. Far more careful. He wanted to get his technique down just right; he didn’t want to disappoint his beloved, after all. He wanted to make him feel just as amazing as he had on several other occasions. Pure Vanilla wanted to make this a moment neither of them would ever forget.
But to do that, he had to take it slow. No one was ever perfect in their first few moments.
His other hand eventually rested on Shadow Milk’s thigh, both hands clutching firmly as the Ancient moved his hips—ever so steadily—back and forth. Forward and backward. A simple pattern. Occasionally, he’d hear broken and quiet moans fight to push past Shadow Milk’s lips, his technique correct enough to draw something out of him.
But Pure Vanilla could tell, just from the look in his eyes, that this wasn’t enough. He knew that look—and that feeling—very well. For he had felt it hundreds of times before.
Part of him felt bad. For not giving in to that adorable look in his eyes. For not properly satiating his other half. He was the one who brought this up, after all, and it’d be saddening to be the reason for his disappointment at not getting what he wanted.
But another part of him, much more foreign, liked it. Seeing that half-pout on his face, mostly from impatience, was such a sight to see. Now, he got why the Beast loved teasing him so.
But, with Shadow Milk being the Cookie he was, retaliation wasn’t unexpected.
“Are you going to be at a snail’s pace this entire time?” He hissed, a glint of anger visible as he narrowed his eyes. “Fuck me harder, ‘Nilla. Harder.”
How rude. That certainly wasn’t how he asked for things, so how would it be fair if he let that slide?
Pure Vanilla leaned over the Beast, pressing his hands into the mattress for support. His hair cascaded down over his shoulders, enveloping them both in a pale gold curtain. “How do we ask?”
Shadow Milk’s eyes widened, and he stuttered; there was an uncertainty in his voice that hadn’t been there before. “Vanilla…”
The Ancient stilled his hips before he shrugged, trying to replicate his beloved’s previous behavior. “I can just not do anything until you ask nicely.”
Pure Vanilla could see the mental debate through the Beast’s eyes. His face was so cutely dumbfounded, not fully caught off guard, but not nearly as confident as he usually was. Shadow Milk groaned, taking his eyes off of him. “Please, fuck me harder.”
That still wasn’t quite sufficient.
The Ancient slid his hand under the Beast’s chin, gently coaxing him to look his way. “Look at me while you say that?”
He could see Shadow Milk gulp.
Half formed words and sounds came out of his throat first, but eventually, he sighed, sounding far more defeated than Pure Vanilla had expected. “Vanilla, please fuck me harder. I beg you.”
The Ancient’s arm bent, lowering himself just enough to press a delicate kiss on the Beast’s forehead. When he rose, his lips curved into a small smile. “That’s better.”
While his thrusts were still somewhat messy, he was definitely obliging. While he wasn’t using all of his force—that would be irresponsible—it was a significant step up from the gentle rocking of his hips earlier.
He noticed that whenever he’d thrust just a bit deeper than he thought he should’ve, unusually high-pitched gasps and moans would tear themselves from Shadow Milk’s throat. Those sounds were like beautiful music to his ears. A special symphony he was mesmerized with on the first listen.
Pure Vanilla wanted to hear more. He never wanted this song to end.
He began to drill in his hips harder, deeper. The cries that rewarded him were delightful. He cupped the Beast’s cheek, gazing at him with love-struck eyes. “You’re so cute. Who knew you could be even prettier?”
He used that same hand to travel down Shadow Milk’s body, eventually stopping right at his clit. His thumb was firm as he rubbed it in circles, drawing a sharp gasp from the Beast. “F–Fuck! ‘Nilla—!”
Pure Vanilla tilted his head, his voice laced with lust. “Does this feel nice? Aren’t I making you feel so good?”
“What do y–you think?!”
“That’s not a proper answer.”
Shadow Milk groaned. Annoyedly, at first, but it quickly transformed into a moan when the Ancient thrust again. “Witches—yes, ‘Nilla! I feel good! I—ah!” The Beast threw his arms up and around Pure Vanilla, digging his nails deep into his back.
The Ancient winced as he lowered himself, putting his head right in the crook of Shadow Milk’s neck. His voice wavered from the sting, but his words were crystal clear. “I pay more attention than you think. It’s just as easy to get to some of your spots as it is to get to mine.” Pure Vanilla pressed a kiss to his throat, cradling his head with his hand. “You like it like this, right? You must, because you’re digging your claws into my back.”
Shadow Milk didn’t answer, but luckily, the Ancient wasn’t looking for a response this time.
His thumb did far less than what the dildo was doing; he knew that. Every deep thrust got a better reaction than when he pressed harder on the Beast’s clit. But he never took it away. Pure Vanilla wanted to pleasure his beloved the best he could.
He peppered small, tender kisses along the length of Shadow Milk’s throat, letting his tongue slip out occasionally to leave lines of saliva in its wake. How he adored the way he shivered when he did.
It wasn’t long before the Beast hugged his torso with his legs, forcing him to bury in further. The constant trembling of his thighs was even more obvious in this position.
Pure Vanilla nuzzled his cheek against Shadow Milk’s, his warm breath ghosting the shell of his ear. “Should I do for you what you do for me? Tell you to cum when you’re close?”
“I’m already close!” He snarled, dragging his nails down the Ancient’s back in an attempt to rip his skin open. “A–And you reminding me isn’t making it any better!”
“If that’s the case, don’t you want to cum?”
“Vanilla.”
Pure Vanilla began to thrust more uniformly, but yet so much rougher at the same time. If there were any dreams he had, it was making Shadow Milk cum at his own hand. Or rather, by his hips. “Don’t you just want to let go? Come undone right under me? All the other euphemisms you like to use?”
He placed a kiss on his earlobe.
“Don’t you want to be good and cum for me?”
Almost immediately after he said that, Shadow Milk had practically yelled. Not the usual, half-restrained growls he let out when he came normally, but a howl that echoed throughout the entire room and surely slipped under the crack of the entrance door.
Pure Vanilla moaned too—not because he could feel something, but from the way the Beast’s nails hooked into his back, surely opening new wounds for blood to drip from.
After inflicting his carnage on Pure Vanilla’s body, all of Shadow Milk’s limbs fell tiredly onto the mattress, losing all their adrenaline, and just lying limply.
The Ancient hummed, lifting his head to kiss his beloved’s forehead. “You did so well.”
“Y–You too,” the Beast shot out stunnedly, his eyes wide yet blank. He darted his gaze towards Pure Vanilla. “You—you. We. We need to do this again.”
The Ancient chuckled warmly. “Okay.”
There was a moment of silence, a few shared seconds of quiet peace.
But then, something came to Pure Vanilla.
“Did you soundproof the room?”
“Shit.”
“It’s okay, I can deal with the questions,” Pure Vanilla reassured, slightly shrugging. “Besides, it was my fault for all the noise anyway.” He kissed the Beast’s forehead once more.
Shadow Milk grumbled.
“You’re so stupid.”
“You love me.”
“I do.”