Work Text:
Pure Vanilla sheds his robes. His heavy, saintly garments are discarded to leave an unpretentious linen leotard over golden-tanned skin. Even with his back turned to the Beast, Pure Vanilla can sense Shadow Milk’s heavy gaze run over his body.
Maybe another day, he’d call the Beast out to watch as he blushes and sputters. He smiles to himself, remembering how last time Shadow Milk rattled on about how Pure Vanilla was an egomaniac, so full of himself that he’s surely imagining things. Today, though, Pure Vanilla feels his clit resting hard between soaking lips, skin clinging against damp fabric. Patience has always been an attribute he’s prided himself on having, but he cannot chasten himself any longer.
Pure Vanilla uses one hand to spread his cunt wide, revealing a large, twitching clit as Shadow Milk’s face settles between his thighs. He shivers as he feels a long tongue glide up and down his slit, teasing but never breaching the inside.
Pure Vanilla is a beacon of virtue, seen as a living manifestation of all that is pure in Earthbread. A kind king, a saintly healer, a revered hero. Shadow Milk wants to defile him, to debase the Ancient until he’s lost all of his principles to hedonism, pulled down to Shadow Milk’s level. He wants to break him, he wants, he needs-
Shadow Milk’s train of thought is interrupted as Pure Vanilla lets out a breathy moan, throwing his head back as he rides Shadow Milk’s face. He grinds his pussy onto the Beast’s long, serpentine tongue, eyes glazed over in pleasure. Shadow Milk decides that this isn't enough yet, summoning a tentacle to wrap around Pure Vanilla’s throbbing clit, wet and tender.
Pure Vanilla jerks like he’s been shocked, clearly not expecting the sudden stimulation. The Ancient thinks to himself that he’s not usually so sensitive there. He pulls on Shadow Milk’s hair for stability, and he watches Shadow Milk’s eyes narrow into feline crescents through bleary vision. He’s glad the Beast’s mouth is occupied; he’s sure that Earthbread’s most delightful playwright would have a field day coming up with ways to call Pure Vanilla a wanton whore. It truly is bordering on being too much for the Ancient, though; he feels as if his nerves are in overdrive, his already dripping hole still leaking more as it continues to be plundered by Shadow Milk’s tainted magic.
Pure Vanilla feels white-hot pleasure concentrated in his cunt as he keeps riding Shadow Milk’s face, wanting to feel him deeper, everywhere, all over his venerated body. He wants every one of his senses to be filled with Shadow Milk until he can forget every expectation of sanctity that’s been put on him, ever since he was freshly baked. He lets out breathy groans, thighs shaking from the effort of keeping himself up as the Beast’s tongue writhes and twists deep inside the Ancient, hitting every single spot that makes him see stars.
Desperately guiding the Shadow Milk’s head even deeper into his cunt, Pure Vanilla looks down. The Beast is so flushed, ever-shrewd eyes glazed over as he focuses solely on making Pure Vanilla writhe. He hears the Beast let out soft whines as Pure Vanilla digs his fingers into his scalp, clearly trying to keep up his mask of sadistic arrogance, stifling all signs of his own arousal. Pure Vanilla knows that the Beast would never admit this, though. He wishes Shadow Milk would be more honest with himself. It is truly adorable to see him so docile for once.
Between the feeling of Shadow Milk’s tongue inside him and the tentacle swirling around his throbbing clit, ecstasy builds and builds and finally snaps, pushing Pure Vanilla off the edge as he revels in the sweet, agonizing pressure of release. His eyes roll to the back of his head as he grips the back of the Beast’s head, realizing distantly through the fog of his mind that he’s squirting into Shadow Milk’s mouth.
Pure Vanilla feels the prickle of sharp claws gripping his thighs as Shadow Milk tries to pry him off his face, but Pure Vanilla only leans into the pain. His grip is taut on the Beast’s willowy body as he rides out the ripples of his orgasm. He feels his cunt pulsing against Shadow Milk’s tongue as both cookies try to catch their breath, registering the tentacle on his hypersensitive clit coming to a stop.
Shadow Milk wipes his face with the back of his hand in an overdramatic gesture. “You’re practically using me for my body, you wretched playboy!” he grumbles. It lacks the sharp bite of arrogance that Shadow Milk’s taunts are usually brimming with. “Defiling my face like some cake hound and not even giving me so much as a chance to enjoy myself, Nilly. I can’t believe you’d be so cruel.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Pure Vanilla murmurs, lips pressing against Shadow Milk’s ear. He lowers his head to pepper kisses along his sylphlike neck, voice honeyed as he bats his long eyelashes. “Your mouth simply felt so good that I lost control over myself. Won’t you find enough clemency in that heart of yours to forgive your old friend?”
Shadow Milk’s tone sours upon hearing the word friend. “I’d never be friends with a wretched lecher like you, Pure Vanilla. What if you become a bad influence on me?”
Pure Vanilla grinds his cunt against Shadow Milk’s thigh. He undoes the backing of his leotard, leaving him fully naked. “Don’t get so angry,” Pure Vanilla drawls. His finger traces soothing patterns onto Shadow Milk’s back. “You’ve just prepared me so nicely, after all. It would be a shame not to take your fill.”
Shadow Milk’s cunt is dripping between his legs, but he angles his body away from Pure Vanilla, hoping the Ancient doesn’t notice the effect he has on him. A tentacle wraps itself around Shadow Milk’s clit, becoming an extension of the organ as it secures itself around the Beast’s hips. A strap-on, thick and long and undulating, where Shadow Milk can feel everything it feels; after all, as an incarnation of the Beast’s magic, the tentacle acts as an extension of himself. Shadow Milk shudders a bit as he feels the tentacle latch onto his cock, but his theatrical bravado quickly returns.
He grabs Pure Vanilla’s hips to slowly lower the Ancient onto his cock. This is one of the few things he has patience for when it comes to dealing with Pure Vanilla, most of all because he gets to see how Pure Vanilla writhes and pants as he tries to adjust to the feeling of his cunt being stretched wide. After all, Shadow Milk is always generous when it comes to the size of tentacles he uses on his darling other half.
The feeling of being inside Pure Vanilla is nothing short of rapturous. Shadow Milk wonders if this is an attribute of the Ancients’ healing magic or if his mind is simply playing tricks on him. Pure Vanilla is so soft and warm, tightening around Shadow Milk’s cock like he wants to drain him for everything he has. Shadow Milk has to take a few seconds to still his hips, trying to regain his composure so as not to finish as soon as he’s inside. He’s already humiliated himself enough in front of Pure Vanilla today.
Warm hands cup his cheeks. To his surprise, he finds them coarsened from years of venturing. Pure Vanilla tilts Shadow Milk’s gaze to look into his eyes, giving a reassuring smile. “Are you still with me? You’re hardly moving at all”, Pure Vanilla coos. It feels patronizing, like he’s doting on Shadow Milk as if he were another one of his fawning subjects.
Shadow Milk feels himself grow incensed at Pure Vanilla’s audacity. First calling himself the Beast’s friend, now whining for more sex like some damned whore.
“Oh, Nilly, you little minx, you!” Shadow Milk taunts, slightly frenzied from the arousal and adrenaline mingling in his nerves. “If you wanted me so bad, you should’ve just asked nicely like the sweet little doll you are.”
Shadow Milk pulls out almost fully until only the tip remains, causing Pure Vanilla to clench against it, desperately trying to coax him back inside. He’s about to beg, but the words get caught in his throat as the tentacle is shoved inside him so deeply that Pure Vanilla’s mind goes blank. Shadow Milk looks enthralled as he watches his newfound cock push in and out of Pure Vanilla. His warm, silken pussy wraps around it so unbelievably tightly, and his thrusts come to a crescendo as he gets drunk on the feeling.
Pure Vanilla feels himself pulled apart until he’s wet and messy and so far gone from his typical temperate demeanour, panting and drooling as he feels Shadow Milk now fucking him with fervour. He yelps as Shadow Milk takes a fistful of his hair and pulls, jerking his head close to his own so that he can dig his sharp teeth into his neck and nip at his ear.
Pure Vanilla lets out soft cries of pain, feeling shame coil in his gut as he only grows wetter. He wonders if he was always such a masochist or if Shadow Milk twisted his preferences. He isn’t sure which option is more humiliating, but his thoughts are cast aside as the feeling of Shadow Milk inside him makes him lose his ability to think.
Pure Vanilla arches his back, pushing himself back onto Shadow Milk’s cock to try and match the punishing rhythm Shadow Milk has set. He lets himself let go of his inhibitions and fully indulges himself, moaning salaciously as he takes the full length of Shadow Milk’s cock with each movement. Their hips make loud smacks each time they meet, sticky fluid stringing between them from Pure Vanilla’s soaked folds.
With Pure Vanilla’s staff cast aside, Shadow Milk is free to stare as much as he’d like. Pure Vanilla is so, so beautiful, with flaxen hair cascading down his graceful shoulders like a shimmering waterfall of gold. His thick, white lashes are heavy with unshed tears, eyes gleaming under the dim glow of a lamp. Even covered in sweat and with his hair tousled, indulging himself in such unprincipled acts, Pure Vanilla is a paragon of radiance. Shadow Milk can’t place his finger on what he feels towards these observations. Envy? Resentment? He almost finds it funny. The former Fount of Knowledge is struggling to find an answer for something as cloying as his own emotions.
Shadow Milk wonders how many others have seen Pure Vanilla like this, writhing in pleasure yet asking for more still. He chooses to ignore the pang of jealousy that emerges with the thought, instead driving himself deeper into Pure Vanilla. He wants so badly to leave his mark on every single part of his other half’s body, both inside and out.
“Hnnn, Shadow Milk, h-have mercy on your other half, would you?” Pure Vanilla pleads, yet he wraps his legs tightly around Shadow Milk’s lithe waist, wanting to feel him deeper, deeper, more.
“Mercy?” Shadow Milk laughs. “Says the little whore who was begging for my cock just a moment earlier. All the more reason to not believe a thing you say, Pure Vanilla!”
The Beast grabs Pure Vanilla’s hips and bounces him on and off the tentacle cock. Pure Vanilla’s eyes roll to the back of his head as tears well up in his eyes. The pleasure is so overwhelming that he almost can’t handle it.
Pure Vanilla lets out staccato moans with every thrust. “P-Please…Ah, t-too much, I can’t, ‘s too much.”
Before he can even process it, the coiling twist of arousal in his belly turns to a spasm as he's tipped off the edge into his second orgasm of the night. Pure Vanilla screams as waves of bliss engulf his senses, gushing around the tentacle as it continues ravaging his insides. His cunt clamps around Shadow Milk like a vice, and he revels in the strained groan it pulls from him.
“Cumming again? Already, Nilly? Oh my, you're going to ruin the sheets at this point. And to think I haven't even gotten off once!”
Dazed, Pure Vanilla filters out Shadow Milk’s words and stares through spotty vision at the cookie in front of him. Neither of them ever bothered to acknowledge the thick, cloying tension that seems to coat every interaction they have. Even after they started negotiating with their bodies, Pure Vanilla had always justified it as a way to make Shadow Milk finally listen to him.
But as he looks into the gleaming eyes of his other half as they debase each other, feeling Shadow Milk’s body all over his in an act of such force and ambivalence and passion, Pure Vanilla comes to a realization. He almost laughs at himself for feeling something so flippant at his age, something he thought he’d lost the ability to years ago. However, he’s so lost in the moment that instead, he grabs Shadow Milk's chin and presses their lips together.
It's chaste, far too much so for the way Shadow Milk is fucking Pure Vanilla like they’re animals in heat. But Shadow Milk pulls away, looking utterly aghast. The ever-so verbose Beast is left sputtering.
“How dare you?” he hurls. “What- What on Earthbread allowed you to think that you have the right to violate me with your lips like that?”
A sharp spike of regret pangs in Pure Vanilla’s chest. He’d been too rash and let himself get carried away. He knows that nothing between them will ever be the same after this, and his mind races as he considers the implications.
The rage Shadow Milk feels only renews his desire to break him. All Pure Vanilla has done is demean him, from the day their fates first intertwined, when Shadow Milk’s rightful Soul Jam was taken from him. Now, Pure Vanilla has the audacity to further taint him with a kiss. Absolutely intolerable. He needs to put him in his rightful place. He watches Pure Vanilla’s mouth open to prattle out an apology, and takes the opportunity to grab Pure Vanilla by his hair and force his lips onto his own.
Shadow Milk’s sharp teeth nip at Pure Vanilla’s bottom lip, starting to draw jam that the Beast eagerly laps up. Shadow Milk kisses him like he’s trying to devour him, tongue running over the point of his canines and the top of his mouth. Pure Vanilla shivers as he tries his best to kiss back, feeling parts of his mouth he’d never before explored being violated.
Pure Vanilla squeals when Shadow Milk shoves his tongue into his mouth, gagging around the intrusion. When Shadow Milk pulls away, a string of saliva pulls apart between them. As Pure Vanilla is left panting, Shadow Milk licks his lips in a teasing display.
“What a little nymphomaniac. Very well, then! I’ll give you exactly what you want, Pure Vanilla.”
Pure Vanilla feels the tentacle cock pulse inside of him as the Beast’s movements grow erratic, chest heaving with the effort of powering his thin body through the craze of commerce. It’s wild and bordering on manic, so far removed from Pure Vanilla’s original intentions for their arrangement as a means of negotiation. After all, Shadow Milk is practically fucking out any capability for him to form coherent thoughts. Perhaps Pure Vanilla, too, was deceiving himself, and this is what he’d wanted all along.
“Shadow Milk, ahh, c-can it… ooh…” Pure Vanilla’s sentence is cut off as Shadow Milk grabs his hips, dropping him down on his cock at an angle that makes him see stars. Pure Vanilla’s thoughts come to a stop, arms clinging onto Shadow Milk for dear life.
“Words, Pure Vanilla.” Shadow Milk continues his act of indifference despite the feverish blush on his face. His words come out with far more strain than before, punctuated by the occasional soft moan as he tries to keep his composure. “How do you expect us to get anywhere with our, ah, negotiation when you can barely make out a sentence, silly?”
Pure Vanilla looks up blearily, scrambling for a response despite his hammered thoughts.“C-Can it cum inside me? Can you do it? Please, please, I need it, Shadow Milk, I need you…”
Shadow Milk giggles. “Oh, don’t worry that pretty little head of yours! You’ll find that out reeeall soon!”
Pure Vanilla yelps in surprise as he’s flipped onto his back. He lets out a whine as Shadow Milk’s cock slips out from the change in position, but he’s quickly placated as it’s plunged deep into him once more. Pure Vanilla’s knees are pressed to his chest, bending him in half so that he can properly receive the full expanse of the tentacle. His joints are going to regret this later, but he’s too far gone to care.
All Pure Vanilla can do is take as Shadow Milk cores his insides with his cock. He’s sobbing at this point, tears streaming down his face as he’s fucked out of his senses.
“Mine”, Shadow Milk pants, driving himself into Pure Vanilla in uninhibited motions, less akin to making love and more akin to hysteria. “You’re all mine”. Pure Vanilla digs his fingernails into Shadow Milk’s back. All he can register is the near rapturous pleasure that sends each nerve in his body alight, that he’s the only one who gets to have Shadow Milk like this.
Shadow Milk’s hips stutter as he buries himself deep inside Pure Vanilla, eyes rolling back as he finishes. The tentacle inside Pure Vanilla pulses before the Ancient feels his insides painted with fluid, Shadow Milk’s tentacle letting out something akin to ejaculation. This feeling pushes Pure Vanilla over the edge for the final time of the night, more intense than either of his prior orgasms. His mind short-circuits as he clamps around the appendage, calling out Shadow Milk’s name like a prayer.
They come down from their orgasms together, having completely marked each other with kisses and bruises and the intimate exchange of each other’s fluids. So thoroughly intertwined that neither can tell where Shadow Milk ends or where Pure Vanilla begins. Utterly spent, Shadow Milk retracts his tentacle. Pure Vanilla whines at the feeling of being so empty after just having been stuffed beyond his limits.
The Ancient wraps his arms around Shadow Milk’s shoulders, burying his face into the Beast’s neck and trying to savour his scent. Blueberry, blackcurrant and ambroxan are brought together by a lactonic overtone. He wants to ingrain the Beast’s fragrance into his mind so that he can’t forget.
Shadow Milk never lingers long after their flings, most often disappearing through one of his portals as fast as he arrived with all of his characteristic theatrics. He’s always viewed sentimentality as frivolous, leaving both of them to handle the aftermath of their coupling on their own.
But tonight, Shadow Milk feels Pure Vanilla’s arms wrapped around him, warm and comforting against his cold skin. He’s sure he looks utterly unsightly like this, tousled and drenched with sweat, and he feels that he should be glad that Pure Vanilla doesn’t have his staff to see him. Yet he senses a familiar spark of a feeling flicker inside him, one that he's always tried his best to push aside. He wants Pure Vanilla to look at him, to see every part of him that he can barely even admit to himself that he hides. He wants his other half to look through him; to see him for who he truly is.
Pure Vanilla strokes Shadow Milk's hair in a gesture so tender that the Beast feels his heart drop. That cloying feeling that’s been gnawing at his chest returns. Shadow Milk knows what it is, but he doesn’t want to accept it. He’d thought this feeling had been long lost to him, that his descent into deceit had hardened him enough to forget.
Pure Vanilla doesn’t need Shadow Milk to acknowledge anything between them just yet. He doesn’t want to scare him away, for as fearsome and erratic as he may be, Pure Vanilla sees the loneliness that weighs heavily on his heart. For now, he’s satisfied holding Shadow Milk in his arms, feeling both of them drift off into sleep, two hearts beating as one.
“Shadow Milk”, Pure Vanilla calls, right as the Beast is about to fall before the precipice of sleep. Perhaps due to the comforting hold of Pure Vanilla against him or the sentimentality of the atmosphere carrying him away, Shadow Milk is inclined to listen.
“Won’t you stay, just this once?”
Shadow Milk nods. It’s all he can bring himself to do. Anything else would be an acknowledgement of the feelings that have been tugging against his heart for as long as he’s first laid his eyes on Pure Vanilla.