[again, she says next time. he didn't hold out the hope for it before, but would it be stupid if he hoped? just a little? definitely, but he'll keep it a closely-guarded secret like his past. he doesn't want to meet in her room again. it's still too garish -- though the large and incredibly soft bed is pretty nice, he will say. the softness against the skin of his back is soothing. but having a rendezvous in a place as personal as her room even once is his limit. Chaldea has other private, empty rooms.
but Nero likely wouldn't be happy unless it had all the frills and lace she so dearly surrounds herself with.
the curl of his lips fades away the longer he looks up at her. the faster heat races to his cheeks and ears. her hair is loose again, framing and curling around her face. twisting around her neck and shoulders where it clings where she sweats. but then she's clinging around him, wrapped around and squeezing more tightly than her thighs at his sides. he exhales in a rush and is suddenly breathless, head falling back. there's no use chasing it.
shit.
somehow sweeter than her cries or even her tightly surrounding him is that she uses his name. his hands come down on her hips once he finds the strength to lift his head again. so he can find her lips and kiss her hard, hips dropping to slide out of her an inch before he's pressing up into her again.
he pulls back just enough to speak to her chin. had she been that loud the first time? he can't remember. his mind is on the heat, the pressure, her weight, how she tastes.]
[ no need to hope. she knows he'll come, eventually. if she calls enough. that's twice now that he's cowed to her, given into her. surprised her.
she hadn't really expected it to work the way it had.
Robin has a reputation. his efforts to prevent it from forming failed, and Chaldera knows him for a few things. as a messy drunk easy to beat at cards - who always has money to loose, somehow. surrounded by girls but not a womanizer. lazy, smokes - find him in the garden and if you're quick, you can see him feeding birds. before he yells at you to go away. what do you expect for that?
she's glad Drake didn't answer. Nero knows what nights are like with Drake. there's no soft gasping, no breathless moans trying to be stifled. strong hands, yes, but afraid to push down too hard. it's Nero who had him in a feverish grip - on his cock, then his arms, then into his shoulders. her hands which, however soft, cling greedily.
the ends of her hair falls down to his chest, covers his arms when she's right there. a turn of her head and there, the bands have broken. it'll be the only cover they'll both have - his mantle swapped for her golden threads.
Nero doesn't hear him. gods after all this, she's still tight. still needs to ease into him - him, that she's been aching for. fingers curl. his hips buck. her voice groans. she'll fix her knees, raise her ass to fix the angle. so when he's pressing in, Nero's taking him. calling out again, in high noises and long sounds - clutching his head, his shoulders. his solidity. ]
Robin -
[ pressing her face into him, nuzzling neck and chest when his head comes back down. rocking her own hips, a circular motion, as firm as when her hand had been around him. her shoes kick and take his pants down further, till its just their feet baring remnants of clothing. so for the first time her knee can feel his bare skin, her legs tapping with their own gasps against naked thighs. true, a woman's body is more beautiful - but she won't complain, not when its lean muscle and defined abs rough against her soft parts. ]
[gold and scarlets are hers while he's always been green. what happens when you put the thief in a color meant for kings? he doesn't suddenly gain pride. nor does he find a long lost ego. there's no desire to rule or conquer. it's enough that it can be borrowed, just like her. sitting on his hips while a halting cry bounces off walls and echoes in his ears.
travels down to his cock where he throbs against those much more confined, much softer walls. his fingers squeeze on her hips gently, his own sound lodged in his throat. a few weeks and she's as tight as before like he hadn't fit inside here already. just as snug that the smallest shift rubs him. take her swivels and he's quickly releasing another groan he can't even try to bite back.
he lets her move as she pleases, take his pants down to his ankles and there they get caught on his boots. while she's still grinding and making circles, he digs the toe of his boot into the heel of the other. it hits the floor with a thud and is followed by another. then, a softer sound of his pants being kicked off. from there, he plants his feet on sheets and digs his heels to buck up into another swivel of hers.
she wouldn't understand how even though her skin is like the satin of her sheets, it doesn't compare to the softness of her pussy. his closed eyes open slowly, a sliver of deep green. hers is an order he doesn't mind following. though he has to think about it. doing what he likes doesn't come as naturally as it would for others.
he follows the line of her back up to her shoulders and eases her back to lean against his thighs. before going any further, he can't help but take in the sight of her thighs spread on either side of him and his cock shoved up inside her, disappearing.]
Wrists. [more of a request than a demand but when she gives them to him, he holds them down by her hips, thumbs pressing to her pulse points. his abdomen flexes and he thrusts up. twice. more until he finds a rhythm where the emperor's golden threads bounce all around her and her tits jump and capture Robin's attention.]
[ and the Throne of Heroes chose him. saw something to put him beside King Arthur, beside Gilgamesh. besides Nero. then could it not mean she could keep him at her level? at least as long as he fills her with these girlish feelings, these joyous tears. the want to keep touching and knowing him. can he stay until Nero figures him out? why he's so sad, when here, she was giving him her everything?
Nero's brow spreads sweat on his chest. his groan vibrates the both of them. it's less pain with each cock of her hip, as discharge builds and coats them both. listening to the heartbeats they can't keep quiet - no part of this is quiet, anymore, from the boots hitting the floor to Nero calling out to the gods above. throaty sounds - high pitched noises, when she takes in a half-inch more.
maybe she ought to tell him who he's bigger than - if that'll be what will give him pride.
Wrists, he says. and Nero is the one that obeys.
propped up by his legs, her own easing forward as she swallows him with her groin. they're good hands. she likes them better when they're groping her breasts, playing with her hair. but this way, massaging her pulses. her fingertips twist around themselves to touch his skin. they find only sweat. and then they're moving - Robin grunting, skin slapping. Nero closes her eyes as the vertigo takes her. makes her golden room spin in kaleidoscopic wonder -
air tosses her hair and a breeze spreads on her skin. and she's back down, his knees digging into her back and cock into her cunt, but up - again. a swing. like a swing. jutting up with the muscles of his lower abdomen and hips - Nero laughing, high and clear and breathless - held, kept safe, by the steadiness of his knees and hands. her legs push upward towards his ribs. Nero pants, but squeaks anew with every thrust. every twitch and turn of him felt strongly. sparking off inside her. ]
Held back! You were - holding - back! AYAHH -
[ her eyes are open but she has no freedom of hand to brush away her tangled hair. can't see him beneath her, for the sweaty bangs. Nero tosses back her head, tilts it side to side, looks down and spots a look of green out from his flushed face. so good, he looks, beneath her. happy? she wishes for him to be happy here, now, with her. he looks good, tossed among her gold and scarlet sheets, among satin pillows, even if he's out of place. what could he have been if stars had aligned differently at birth? not a prince, no. but did it matter? he'd come to her this way.
Nero wants to kiss him again.
too bad she has to content herself with another thrust of his dick, so warm and wet and deep inside.
his knees push on either side of her spine. when a gap emerges in his movements, Nero compensates. puts the flat of her feet on the bed and stretches herself up, against the grip of his wrists, against the pull of his cock. slips back down. again. and again. she's small, she's light. and soon she's fast. the bounce in her step back, but changed.
and through delighted laugh, her chest forward and her throat up towards the sky, she cries. ]
Of course! Of course I would. You didn't -
[ her footing slips. Nero tumbles forward when she can't get it back. down to earth again - to Robin, that forest smell, his natural musk the same as bark and branches and the open sky. ]
[the moans and high sounds don't do much but tell him she's feeling as good as he is about this. that every time his hips buck up and he's burying himself deep, he wants to do it again. faster. harder.
her laugh slows him down and he looks up, startled. his hands have remained at her hips, holding her wrists down. he hasn't tickled her and nothing has changed in the time he's spent focusing on moving her up and down his cock, filling her. here she is anyway, eyes curved with her smile and laughter.
that's a first.
is he doing something wrong, here? is what he likes not good?
no, it's because he was holding back. he's been holding back. having her say it aloud stuns him. his pace slows to a simple roll of his hips, not bouncing her along like before. it's more like a wave than the piston. what does she mean by it?
maybe not happy, but the expression of his face isn't one he normally wears. his lips are parted with deep breaths, cheeks flush with pleasure, but his eyes are wide and uncomprehending. he can't help but wonder what would happen if Nero picked away at his seams until she got to the part of him that didn't hold back.
how does someone act genuinely? he's forgotten.
once she starts working with him, he forgets that too. his eyes close again and his pace increases but it's by her hand. the grip of his right hand slips slightly and he's holding a hand and not holding on to a wrist. her weight is so light on his chest and he moves their locked hands beside his head.
she says "of course" like he should expect her to do such a thing. he didn't take her offer because he's not in this for his pleasure. it's just a bonus.
Nero's been the one to call him. to plea with him. to ask him and he answers. he answers her "of course" with a complicated expression, releasing the one wrist he still has a hold of and rubs it down her back.
a finger slides down the crack of her ass and feels how he stretches her. how she's made him slick with her arousal, the thrusts easy.]
Because I thought. [he takes an asscheek into his palm.] You were in this for your own pleasure. Aren't you?
[ their bones hit together and it ought to make them stop. but Nero welcomes it. whenever she's moved out enough, she comes back so parts strike each other. knees and hips. ribs and wrists. a long legs knocking into muscled ones. there's less bouncing now but all the better. an angle meant to touch his hair and kiss his chest. and still remain around him, so his arms and breath envelop her.
Nero wants to be touched. Robin obliges. seizes hold of her and won't let go, though her ass ripples and clenches with the motion of her hips. hair gets in the way, in between their bodies. she doesn't mind. her face is split only in smiles, reflecting the firing of her physical nerves. there's only so long they have manifested forms, after all. too appreciate the carnal things one does with them. ]
But it'd be fun.
[ fun. fun. this is all for fun - to have fun with someone that you enjoy the company of. and there's no fun if you're the only one participating. orgies lose their fun when people drum their fingers, bored, while taking it up the ass. she's not Gilgamesh. she doesn't get off on everybody else having a bad time. Nero loves it when what she does bring people ecstasy - when they tell her how amazing, talented, wonderful, magnificent, astonishing, beautiful, magnanimous -
also, well. Robin's either frowning or smirking, and Nero wants to know what he looks like when he comes.
he knows what her expression looks like. when Nero alternates between biting her lips and sobbing. shouting up into the ceiling instead of the sky, this time, and digging into his skin and hair and whatever parts of him her hands land on. Nero exhausts but hardly ever exhausted - her hips grind and her cunt takes in. whatever discomfort long, long gone as she takes it to the hilt, to the rest of him. ]
Gods above --! Yes, yes - this - missed this.
Tell me you want me. Tell me, May King. [ as she deafens you with a bellow right into his ear, a full-bodied sound he'll feel in his dick from how it shakes her there. ] Tell me this is how you like it.
[naturally. yes, of course. that's fine, then. he expected as much. he came in here with that in his head. Nero only wants to use him for fun and her pleasure. when she said that he was playing with her heart, it was just a fluke. she was saying what she thought would make him stay but it had the opposite effect. wanting this all for fun at least gives him the incentive to pick up his pace again out of its surprised, idle pace and into something with purpose. to make her cry out instead of laugh and smile. his hips work for it, moving harder.
rougher than she's used to. the smack of hips and skin echoing louder and louder. almost as loud as her. almost. the wet sucking of her pussy as she drags him back in fills his ears. fun, that's right. if she wants to suck his cock for fun, he can't stop that. in fact, it would be pretty damn fun for him too. being selfish is only natural for people. there's no way she wanted his cock in her mouth to make him feel good, to have his pleasure in mind.
his throat begins to hurt with how hard he's breathing, the sound of his inhales and exhales growing hoarse. sweat gathers on his brow, drips down his neck to his collar. normally Nero is too loud, obnoxiously loud, but knowing just what to do when she nearly shrieks in pleasure is a tell he's not going to ignore. even when it's right in his ear and makes his ears ring.
and his dick to throb inside her.
his hand darts from her ass to her hair, getting a handful and tugging it back and away from him. he leans up and latches to her throat, sucking and kissing, tasting salt on her skin over everything else. those hoarse breaths of his wash over her ear. he doesn't shriek but he groans, a heavy and deep sound, against her cheek.]
I want you. [it slips out, more breath than any kind of voice but still audible with her ears so close. every jump of his hips, every time he buries himself inside her brings him closer to an edge. he can't think straight. she feels so good. it all feels so good. her skin on his, the feeling of her hair between his fingers, and this warm wet small space that he couldn't stay away from.]
Fuck. Keep riding me. Keep moving. Come all over me like you did before. I want to feel it.
[another tug of her hair. he's less gentle now, as he grows closer. as badly as he wants to flip both of them over, driving his cock into her until she sees stars, he refrains. he keeps her on top with her head back and her throat bare, her thighs and cunt spread wide open.
he doesn't bother letting go of her hand as he moves them between their bodies, searching for her clit.]
[ all for fun. does that preclude a deeper meaning? Nero isn't certain. because just for fun would have led her to others - just for pleasure wouldn't have meant waiting until Robin said yes. this was all for fun. and of course, she feels when she looks down, it wouldn't be fun without him? like she said. there's a limit on what you can enjoy when your partner doesn't have pleasure too.
she wants to hear him say how good he makes her feel.
so she'll repeat the questions, faster and faster, till they're a slur of breath and spit said into his flesh rather to his face. gasped in tandem with the pounding that's going to leave her bowlegged for days. it's too hard to hold his skin - Nero's hands grab his hair as his take hers. crying into the ginger knots.
real tears. not just sweat and byproduct.
I want you.
who wanted Nero? even in the end Rome moved on to another emperor. it never loved her how she wanted it to love her. there was applause when she rose her hands - there were crowds when she told them to gather. people cheered her name but they cheered for Caeser, for the glory of the empire. but her, who remained in part forever separate? she was not Romulus - only his heir. but Robin wanted Nero. just now, he'd said it. had to mean it.
he could be dragged into activities. his participation demanded. but always kept his tongue his own. ]
I want you too.
[ would he hear her? Nero wants him to. she wants him and for her to want him - is it selfish, is it generous, is it....fuck it, it's just good. how there's not even friction when she grinds her chest on him, the both so sweaty its fluid, graceful. wrapped up in so tight a space it could have been her bed or a heap of trash, she'd never notice. his smell, his mouth, his strength - ]
I wanted you -
[ who was he? she didn't know his legend beyond the sketch. not enough to know his name was just a title - that Robin Hood wasn't who he'd been christened as. who he'd been before the mantle and the forests. sometimes his scars caught her fingers. fragmentary wounds the Throne had not wanted to heal from him. like those from a knife wielded by a whittler, that had cut away all those pieces that weren't needed and left a solid core intact. shaped into Servant, painted green.
was there more to cut away?
did it fucking matter? did it fucking matter why she wanted what she did or why he didn't want to admit it? they'd both gotten to this same place. this moment where the white blindness and her screams are going to tear her apart. Nero buries her face into his head before curling upward, shoves her tits into his face. a body like a mermaid on the bow of the ship, her flowing hair free for him to get lost in. ]
Robin - Robin -
[ loud enough to shake the candles in the chandelier. burning them both up from the inside out. her fingers tighten around his hand. don't let go, don't let go. let her hold him, let her show him what her feeling is by the strength that'll snap his hand right off his wrist. not knowing until she feels their fingers against her clit, on the precipice of her cunt, before he dives in. Nero slows. shakes as she pants.
[it could be the heat of the moment. it could be Robin doing as he's told when he doesn't have the mind to think for himself. it could be a person deep inside that's crying out because it wants to keep something, it wants something for his own. it could be his hands finally been given a voice because not once had they let go of her when they tumbled and what started to matter was how much skin could they bare as quickly as possible.
it could be because Robin has wanted to hear those words echoed back at him but it was always a fool's hope. until now.
she says it under a thick canopy of breaths, groans, skin, heads buzzing with pleasure but Robin hears it. he hears it again but his hips don't pause to ask about it. Nero always wanted reds -- the shade of passion and vibrancy. Of blood and war. not the greens of trees, of envy and Earth. what would an emperor have to envy when she can seize at her leisure? when she has crowds of people, men willing to give her anything she wants. red suits her much better than green.
but he'll take this. her wanting him could be the heat of a moment. it could be Nero saying what she thinks he wants to hear and she doesn't have a mind for herself. it could be an emperor who's wanted love and at the first sign of it wants to reach out and bottle it as badly as Robin desperately, selfishly wants to hold it in the breadth of his palms.
they're busy gripping at the slick skin of her body. leaving her hair to hold onto a thigh and dig his fingers in. if Servants bruise, there will be marks for her to show off. small scratches at her side, red lines that blend into the flush of her body now. small space on her neck and collar and breasts where he's sucked too hard. something of her own to go along with his scars.
she says his name like a mantra but his eyes close and he focuses on fucking into her when his thighs and hips are starting to burn with the effort. the screams rip her throat hoarse, and he takes a nipple into his mouth to make it bleed. his hand pawing at the other, squeezing blindly and roughly. his cock swells in her, near his breaking point but he stops before he can blow his load. his lips pull from her tit, wet with his saliva instead of sweat.
a rough groan catches in his chest and he sits up to put her on her back again, flipping them over. she's right there at the edge, her shoulders hanging off the edge and hair dangling. then he takes her legs against his chest and holds them there with one arm across his chest. the other has kept her hand and he squeezes it, pitching her back and forth with the movement of his hips.
he speaks into her calves, lips dragging and mumbling, his red hair sticking.]
Gonna cum. I'm gonna cum. At least cum, gh, with me if you won't do it first. I'm not──
[leaving her behind. but he drops his head and clenches his teeth, pace stuttering.]
this moment was too short. Nero couldn't savor it.
the sensation that there wasn't enough of her to hold. hands scrambling, never lingering. holding long enough that when they're gone, she's cold. moving against him so she can find warmth, so they're not apart, she's not alone. Nero cannot stand to be alone. it's easier to lock the doors and wave away protests than it is to have nothing but your thoughts. how does he stand it? she wants noise, noise - color, life, light, art, movement, things, filled spaces. the quiet of the woods unnerves her.
how does he live with that unhappiness?
this was a pattern. Artoria would understand the burdens of a king. Gilgamesh reveled in gold and glory. Cu never stopped, never thought, never held back. they she understood. Robin didn't want her love. didn't want her life. didn't want her, she thinks, really, except in these instances where she could pretend and he would give. Nero loved what never understood her. and could never give what he wanted. but would be true to herself, and what she wanted. ]
I want you - come in me, come -
[ his teeth bite - Nero gives her battle cry. her voice doesn't sound hers anymore. it tapers off, raw, too starved of breath to go on. heels of slippers tear skin off his legs. if he'll bite, so will she. he's hers. it's not the other way around, thief, you don't steal the emperor. her mouth twirls around his throat and land like a vampire on his neck. he may not have enough to touch. Nero seizes and won't capitulate. stabs into his back, lets him control her body. gives up control and he takes it. as long as he doesn't leave.
she's an artist more than she is an emperor. an actor. belonging on a stage, on a screen, before an audience to be adored, to be loved, to be known. the curse of the age she was born, the only way to become a Heroic Spirit was to rule as a tyrant. so the only way she could have an audience was to lock them in and order their attention. Nero doesn't want to have to do that again.
but maybe if she has to.
Nero blinks and he's above her, blotting out the light. spinning, as she tries to take her breath in. spinning in her head. both of them wheezing - Nero, her hair falling like the rain, Robin, eyes hooded. there's too much of him in her. Nero grips for what she can. stars dancing in the watering of her eyes, sparkling around her vision of him. fingers grab for ribs and hips - just skin, just to touch him, as her head tips into a void. ]
Come then -
[ she'll carve her pleasure into his skin. leave a mark mana won't heal, that will linger on as part of him. they don't need sleep but she to wake up next to him. doesn't want this to end. will fight, will close her legs. be the contrary one. tell him one thing, act another.
Robin will leave once this is over. unless she locks the theater doors.
but he says her name -
she can't help that. ]
Say it again.
[ Nero. Nero. cheer her name. tell her what you love her, and mean it. please mean it. an artist loves to play pretend but they thrive on genuine, real, human passion.
she's going to pass out if she room doesn't stop moving. Servant endurance be damned. the one free hand grabs him by the neck, pushes thumb into his jugular. seizes. breathing wounded. pulls herself up, then down. fight the shaking of the bed, the one ground, beneath her. focus on his face, the steady presence like the earth, the tree, the sky. Robin. as steady and straight as an arrow. ]
[Robin Hood is a rebel who follows his own rules and answers to no one but himself and his Master. but Robin Hood also can't resist a command like that when it's said in that voice. from an emperor -- a girl who has herself spread wide open and takes him into her body deeply, hotly. not with her so tight around him, dripping and coating him every time his hips push forward. he's able to resist for just a bit longer. to keep giving her these hard thrusts that ricochet back at him into more and more pressure.
his eyes shut tight, his grip squeezing around her thigh. the things she carves, words or marks or feelings, disappear into that void her head falls into. he's going someplace higher, whiter, bursting in his head. he meets one command after another. the loyal follower he didn't want to be but how sweet and good it feels to be inside her pussy convinces him otherwise.]
Nero. Nero.
[no cheer, but said with some reverence. just a little adoration. the quietest supporters are the most loyal. they're not there for the attention of the one they admire, they're there unconditionally. Robin's presence isn't unconditional but it's not selfish, either. she calls him. she uses him.
she wants him.
nearly chokes him but he doesn't fight it. his eyes open halfway to gaze down at her, pupils blown wide and eyes almost black with arousal. he's light-headed, wants to pour everything into her. empty inside her. paint her and smear her with his cum and witness the aftermath of a woman satisfied. not hurrying to get away.]
Fuck.
[he lets her legs fall open on either side of him again and leans over her, cradling the back of her head and hand scrambling, searching. there. her clit. he rubs furiously, even faster than his hips move. he can feel gravity start to pull them down, sliding them off the edge because he's not sitting back anymore and counterbalancing.]
Don't, do this. Come with me. Come──
[he fights her hand on his neck, leaning down the last foot to kiss her hard on the mouth. groaning into her. gripping the back of her neck the same way her fingers cut his air flow. he can't hold it anymore.
he cums, breaking away from her mouth to choke on a gasp and around her hand. his head goes light, fuzzy, crowded with thoughts of how good it feels. his hips don't stutter, just pin to hers tightly as he finishes inside. little throbs make his hips twitch but hips remain flush to hers and his chest heaves, dripping glittery sweat on her stomach.]
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no subject
but Nero likely wouldn't be happy unless it had all the frills and lace she so dearly surrounds herself with.
the curl of his lips fades away the longer he looks up at her. the faster heat races to his cheeks and ears. her hair is loose again, framing and curling around her face. twisting around her neck and shoulders where it clings where she sweats. but then she's clinging around him, wrapped around and squeezing more tightly than her thighs at his sides. he exhales in a rush and is suddenly breathless, head falling back. there's no use chasing it.
shit.
somehow sweeter than her cries or even her tightly surrounding him is that she uses his name. his hands come down on her hips once he finds the strength to lift his head again. so he can find her lips and kiss her hard, hips dropping to slide out of her an inch before he's pressing up into her again.
he pulls back just enough to speak to her chin. had she been that loud the first time? he can't remember. his mind is on the heat, the pressure, her weight, how she tastes.]
You okay?
no subject
she hadn't really expected it to work the way it had.
Robin has a reputation. his efforts to prevent it from forming failed, and Chaldera knows him for a few things. as a messy drunk easy to beat at cards - who always has money to loose, somehow. surrounded by girls but not a womanizer. lazy, smokes - find him in the garden and if you're quick, you can see him feeding birds. before he yells at you to go away. what do you expect for that?
she's glad Drake didn't answer. Nero knows what nights are like with Drake. there's no soft gasping, no breathless moans trying to be stifled. strong hands, yes, but afraid to push down too hard. it's Nero who had him in a feverish grip - on his cock, then his arms, then into his shoulders. her hands which, however soft, cling greedily.
the ends of her hair falls down to his chest, covers his arms when she's right there. a turn of her head and there, the bands have broken. it'll be the only cover they'll both have - his mantle swapped for her golden threads.
Nero doesn't hear him. gods after all this, she's still tight. still needs to ease into him - him, that she's been aching for. fingers curl. his hips buck. her voice groans. she'll fix her knees, raise her ass to fix the angle. so when he's pressing in, Nero's taking him. calling out again, in high noises and long sounds - clutching his head, his shoulders. his solidity. ]
Robin -
[ pressing her face into him, nuzzling neck and chest when his head comes back down. rocking her own hips, a circular motion, as firm as when her hand had been around him. her shoes kick and take his pants down further, till its just their feet baring remnants of clothing. so for the first time her knee can feel his bare skin, her legs tapping with their own gasps against naked thighs. true, a woman's body is more beautiful - but she won't complain, not when its lean muscle and defined abs rough against her soft parts. ]
Show me. How you like it.
no subject
travels down to his cock where he throbs against those much more confined, much softer walls. his fingers squeeze on her hips gently, his own sound lodged in his throat. a few weeks and she's as tight as before like he hadn't fit inside here already. just as snug that the smallest shift rubs him. take her swivels and he's quickly releasing another groan he can't even try to bite back.
he lets her move as she pleases, take his pants down to his ankles and there they get caught on his boots. while she's still grinding and making circles, he digs the toe of his boot into the heel of the other. it hits the floor with a thud and is followed by another. then, a softer sound of his pants being kicked off. from there, he plants his feet on sheets and digs his heels to buck up into another swivel of hers.
she wouldn't understand how even though her skin is like the satin of her sheets, it doesn't compare to the softness of her pussy. his closed eyes open slowly, a sliver of deep green. hers is an order he doesn't mind following. though he has to think about it. doing what he likes doesn't come as naturally as it would for others.
he follows the line of her back up to her shoulders and eases her back to lean against his thighs. before going any further, he can't help but take in the sight of her thighs spread on either side of him and his cock shoved up inside her, disappearing.]
Wrists. [more of a request than a demand but when she gives them to him, he holds them down by her hips, thumbs pressing to her pulse points. his abdomen flexes and he thrusts up. twice. more until he finds a rhythm where the emperor's golden threads bounce all around her and her tits jump and capture Robin's attention.]
Gh. You were, gonna suck my dick. Weren't you?
no subject
Nero's brow spreads sweat on his chest. his groan vibrates the both of them. it's less pain with each cock of her hip, as discharge builds and coats them both. listening to the heartbeats they can't keep quiet - no part of this is quiet, anymore, from the boots hitting the floor to Nero calling out to the gods above. throaty sounds - high pitched noises, when she takes in a half-inch more.
maybe she ought to tell him who he's bigger than - if that'll be what will give him pride.
Wrists, he says. and Nero is the one that obeys.
propped up by his legs, her own easing forward as she swallows him with her groin. they're good hands. she likes them better when they're groping her breasts, playing with her hair. but this way, massaging her pulses. her fingertips twist around themselves to touch his skin. they find only sweat. and then they're moving - Robin grunting, skin slapping. Nero closes her eyes as the vertigo takes her. makes her golden room spin in kaleidoscopic wonder -
air tosses her hair and a breeze spreads on her skin. and she's back down, his knees digging into her back and cock into her cunt, but up - again. a swing. like a swing. jutting up with the muscles of his lower abdomen and hips - Nero laughing, high and clear and breathless - held, kept safe, by the steadiness of his knees and hands. her legs push upward towards his ribs. Nero pants, but squeaks anew with every thrust. every twitch and turn of him felt strongly. sparking off inside her. ]
Held back! You were - holding - back! AYAHH -
[ her eyes are open but she has no freedom of hand to brush away her tangled hair. can't see him beneath her, for the sweaty bangs. Nero tosses back her head, tilts it side to side, looks down and spots a look of green out from his flushed face. so good, he looks, beneath her. happy? she wishes for him to be happy here, now, with her. he looks good, tossed among her gold and scarlet sheets, among satin pillows, even if he's out of place. what could he have been if stars had aligned differently at birth? not a prince, no. but did it matter? he'd come to her this way.
Nero wants to kiss him again.
too bad she has to content herself with another thrust of his dick, so warm and wet and deep inside.
his knees push on either side of her spine. when a gap emerges in his movements, Nero compensates. puts the flat of her feet on the bed and stretches herself up, against the grip of his wrists, against the pull of his cock. slips back down. again. and again. she's small, she's light. and soon she's fast. the bounce in her step back, but changed.
and through delighted laugh, her chest forward and her throat up towards the sky, she cries. ]
Of course! Of course I would. You didn't -
[ her footing slips. Nero tumbles forward when she can't get it back. down to earth again - to Robin, that forest smell, his natural musk the same as bark and branches and the open sky. ]
You didn't - take. My offer.
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her laugh slows him down and he looks up, startled. his hands have remained at her hips, holding her wrists down. he hasn't tickled her and nothing has changed in the time he's spent focusing on moving her up and down his cock, filling her. here she is anyway, eyes curved with her smile and laughter.
that's a first.
is he doing something wrong, here? is what he likes not good?
no, it's because he was holding back. he's been holding back. having her say it aloud stuns him. his pace slows to a simple roll of his hips, not bouncing her along like before. it's more like a wave than the piston. what does she mean by it?
maybe not happy, but the expression of his face isn't one he normally wears. his lips are parted with deep breaths, cheeks flush with pleasure, but his eyes are wide and uncomprehending. he can't help but wonder what would happen if Nero picked away at his seams until she got to the part of him that didn't hold back.
how does someone act genuinely? he's forgotten.
once she starts working with him, he forgets that too. his eyes close again and his pace increases but it's by her hand. the grip of his right hand slips slightly and he's holding a hand and not holding on to a wrist. her weight is so light on his chest and he moves their locked hands beside his head.
she says "of course" like he should expect her to do such a thing. he didn't take her offer because he's not in this for his pleasure. it's just a bonus.
Nero's been the one to call him. to plea with him. to ask him and he answers. he answers her "of course" with a complicated expression, releasing the one wrist he still has a hold of and rubs it down her back.
a finger slides down the crack of her ass and feels how he stretches her. how she's made him slick with her arousal, the thrusts easy.]
Because I thought. [he takes an asscheek into his palm.] You were in this for your own pleasure. Aren't you?
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[ their bones hit together and it ought to make them stop. but Nero welcomes it. whenever she's moved out enough, she comes back so parts strike each other. knees and hips. ribs and wrists. a long legs knocking into muscled ones. there's less bouncing now but all the better. an angle meant to touch his hair and kiss his chest. and still remain around him, so his arms and breath envelop her.
Nero wants to be touched. Robin obliges. seizes hold of her and won't let go, though her ass ripples and clenches with the motion of her hips. hair gets in the way, in between their bodies. she doesn't mind. her face is split only in smiles, reflecting the firing of her physical nerves. there's only so long they have manifested forms, after all. too appreciate the carnal things one does with them. ]
But it'd be fun.
[ fun. fun. this is all for fun - to have fun with someone that you enjoy the company of. and there's no fun if you're the only one participating. orgies lose their fun when people drum their fingers, bored, while taking it up the ass. she's not Gilgamesh. she doesn't get off on everybody else having a bad time. Nero loves it when what she does bring people ecstasy - when they tell her how amazing, talented, wonderful, magnificent, astonishing, beautiful, magnanimous -
also, well. Robin's either frowning or smirking, and Nero wants to know what he looks like when he comes.
he knows what her expression looks like. when Nero alternates between biting her lips and sobbing. shouting up into the ceiling instead of the sky, this time, and digging into his skin and hair and whatever parts of him her hands land on. Nero exhausts but hardly ever exhausted - her hips grind and her cunt takes in. whatever discomfort long, long gone as she takes it to the hilt, to the rest of him. ]
Gods above --! Yes, yes - this - missed this.
Tell me you want me. Tell me, May King. [ as she deafens you with a bellow right into his ear, a full-bodied sound he'll feel in his dick from how it shakes her there. ] Tell me this is how you like it.
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rougher than she's used to. the smack of hips and skin echoing louder and louder. almost as loud as her. almost. the wet sucking of her pussy as she drags him back in fills his ears. fun, that's right. if she wants to suck his cock for fun, he can't stop that. in fact, it would be pretty damn fun for him too. being selfish is only natural for people. there's no way she wanted his cock in her mouth to make him feel good, to have his pleasure in mind.
his throat begins to hurt with how hard he's breathing, the sound of his inhales and exhales growing hoarse. sweat gathers on his brow, drips down his neck to his collar. normally Nero is too loud, obnoxiously loud, but knowing just what to do when she nearly shrieks in pleasure is a tell he's not going to ignore. even when it's right in his ear and makes his ears ring.
and his dick to throb inside her.
his hand darts from her ass to her hair, getting a handful and tugging it back and away from him. he leans up and latches to her throat, sucking and kissing, tasting salt on her skin over everything else. those hoarse breaths of his wash over her ear. he doesn't shriek but he groans, a heavy and deep sound, against her cheek.]
I want you. [it slips out, more breath than any kind of voice but still audible with her ears so close. every jump of his hips, every time he buries himself inside her brings him closer to an edge. he can't think straight. she feels so good. it all feels so good. her skin on his, the feeling of her hair between his fingers, and this warm wet small space that he couldn't stay away from.]
Fuck. Keep riding me. Keep moving. Come all over me like you did before. I want to feel it.
[another tug of her hair. he's less gentle now, as he grows closer. as badly as he wants to flip both of them over, driving his cock into her until she sees stars, he refrains. he keeps her on top with her head back and her throat bare, her thighs and cunt spread wide open.
he doesn't bother letting go of her hand as he moves them between their bodies, searching for her clit.]
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she wants to hear him say how good he makes her feel.
so she'll repeat the questions, faster and faster, till they're a slur of breath and spit said into his flesh rather to his face. gasped in tandem with the pounding that's going to leave her bowlegged for days. it's too hard to hold his skin - Nero's hands grab his hair as his take hers. crying into the ginger knots.
real tears. not just sweat and byproduct.
I want you.
who wanted Nero? even in the end Rome moved on to another emperor. it never loved her how she wanted it to love her. there was applause when she rose her hands - there were crowds when she told them to gather. people cheered her name but they cheered for Caeser, for the glory of the empire. but her, who remained in part forever separate? she was not Romulus - only his heir. but Robin wanted Nero. just now, he'd said it. had to mean it.
he could be dragged into activities. his participation demanded. but always kept his tongue his own. ]
I want you too.
[ would he hear her? Nero wants him to. she wants him and for her to want him - is it selfish, is it generous, is it....fuck it, it's just good. how there's not even friction when she grinds her chest on him, the both so sweaty its fluid, graceful. wrapped up in so tight a space it could have been her bed or a heap of trash, she'd never notice. his smell, his mouth, his strength - ]
I wanted you -
[ who was he? she didn't know his legend beyond the sketch. not enough to know his name was just a title - that Robin Hood wasn't who he'd been christened as. who he'd been before the mantle and the forests. sometimes his scars caught her fingers. fragmentary wounds the Throne had not wanted to heal from him. like those from a knife wielded by a whittler, that had cut away all those pieces that weren't needed and left a solid core intact. shaped into Servant, painted green.
was there more to cut away?
did it fucking matter? did it fucking matter why she wanted what she did or why he didn't want to admit it? they'd both gotten to this same place. this moment where the white blindness and her screams are going to tear her apart. Nero buries her face into his head before curling upward, shoves her tits into his face. a body like a mermaid on the bow of the ship, her flowing hair free for him to get lost in. ]
Robin - Robin -
[ loud enough to shake the candles in the chandelier. burning them both up from the inside out. her fingers tighten around his hand. don't let go, don't let go. let her hold him, let her show him what her feeling is by the strength that'll snap his hand right off his wrist. not knowing until she feels their fingers against her clit, on the precipice of her cunt, before he dives in. Nero slows. shakes as she pants.
she can't -
Robin don't make this night end for her. ]
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it could be because Robin has wanted to hear those words echoed back at him but it was always a fool's hope. until now.
she says it under a thick canopy of breaths, groans, skin, heads buzzing with pleasure but Robin hears it. he hears it again but his hips don't pause to ask about it. Nero always wanted reds -- the shade of passion and vibrancy. Of blood and war. not the greens of trees, of envy and Earth. what would an emperor have to envy when she can seize at her leisure? when she has crowds of people, men willing to give her anything she wants. red suits her much better than green.
but he'll take this. her wanting him could be the heat of a moment. it could be Nero saying what she thinks he wants to hear and she doesn't have a mind for herself. it could be an emperor who's wanted love and at the first sign of it wants to reach out and bottle it as badly as Robin desperately, selfishly wants to hold it in the breadth of his palms.
they're busy gripping at the slick skin of her body. leaving her hair to hold onto a thigh and dig his fingers in. if Servants bruise, there will be marks for her to show off. small scratches at her side, red lines that blend into the flush of her body now. small space on her neck and collar and breasts where he's sucked too hard. something of her own to go along with his scars.
she says his name like a mantra but his eyes close and he focuses on fucking into her when his thighs and hips are starting to burn with the effort. the screams rip her throat hoarse, and he takes a nipple into his mouth to make it bleed. his hand pawing at the other, squeezing blindly and roughly. his cock swells in her, near his breaking point but he stops before he can blow his load. his lips pull from her tit, wet with his saliva instead of sweat.
a rough groan catches in his chest and he sits up to put her on her back again, flipping them over. she's right there at the edge, her shoulders hanging off the edge and hair dangling. then he takes her legs against his chest and holds them there with one arm across his chest. the other has kept her hand and he squeezes it, pitching her back and forth with the movement of his hips.
he speaks into her calves, lips dragging and mumbling, his red hair sticking.]
Gonna cum. I'm gonna cum. At least cum, gh, with me if you won't do it first. I'm not──
[leaving her behind. but he drops his head and clenches his teeth, pace stuttering.]
Nero.
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this moment was too short. Nero couldn't savor it.
the sensation that there wasn't enough of her to hold. hands scrambling, never lingering. holding long enough that when they're gone, she's cold. moving against him so she can find warmth, so they're not apart, she's not alone. Nero cannot stand to be alone. it's easier to lock the doors and wave away protests than it is to have nothing but your thoughts. how does he stand it? she wants noise, noise - color, life, light, art, movement, things, filled spaces. the quiet of the woods unnerves her.
how does he live with that unhappiness?
this was a pattern. Artoria would understand the burdens of a king. Gilgamesh reveled in gold and glory. Cu never stopped, never thought, never held back. they she understood. Robin didn't want her love. didn't want her life. didn't want her, she thinks, really, except in these instances where she could pretend and he would give. Nero loved what never understood her. and could never give what he wanted. but would be true to herself, and what she wanted. ]
I want you - come in me, come -
[ his teeth bite - Nero gives her battle cry. her voice doesn't sound hers anymore. it tapers off, raw, too starved of breath to go on. heels of slippers tear skin off his legs. if he'll bite, so will she. he's hers. it's not the other way around, thief, you don't steal the emperor. her mouth twirls around his throat and land like a vampire on his neck. he may not have enough to touch. Nero seizes and won't capitulate. stabs into his back, lets him control her body. gives up control and he takes it. as long as he doesn't leave.
she's an artist more than she is an emperor. an actor. belonging on a stage, on a screen, before an audience to be adored, to be loved, to be known. the curse of the age she was born, the only way to become a Heroic Spirit was to rule as a tyrant. so the only way she could have an audience was to lock them in and order their attention. Nero doesn't want to have to do that again.
but maybe if she has to.
Nero blinks and he's above her, blotting out the light. spinning, as she tries to take her breath in. spinning in her head. both of them wheezing - Nero, her hair falling like the rain, Robin, eyes hooded. there's too much of him in her. Nero grips for what she can. stars dancing in the watering of her eyes, sparkling around her vision of him. fingers grab for ribs and hips - just skin, just to touch him, as her head tips into a void. ]
Come then -
[ she'll carve her pleasure into his skin. leave a mark mana won't heal, that will linger on as part of him. they don't need sleep but she to wake up next to him. doesn't want this to end. will fight, will close her legs. be the contrary one. tell him one thing, act another.
Robin will leave once this is over. unless she locks the theater doors.
but he says her name -
she can't help that. ]
Say it again.
[ Nero. Nero. cheer her name. tell her what you love her, and mean it. please mean it. an artist loves to play pretend but they thrive on genuine, real, human passion.
she's going to pass out if she room doesn't stop moving. Servant endurance be damned. the one free hand grabs him by the neck, pushes thumb into his jugular. seizes. breathing wounded. pulls herself up, then down. fight the shaking of the bed, the one ground, beneath her. focus on his face, the steady presence like the earth, the tree, the sky. Robin. as steady and straight as an arrow. ]
Stay - stay after. I want you.
Once - you've finished -
i wanna use new icons
his eyes shut tight, his grip squeezing around her thigh. the things she carves, words or marks or feelings, disappear into that void her head falls into. he's going someplace higher, whiter, bursting in his head. he meets one command after another. the loyal follower he didn't want to be but how sweet and good it feels to be inside her pussy convinces him otherwise.]
Nero. Nero.
[no cheer, but said with some reverence. just a little adoration. the quietest supporters are the most loyal. they're not there for the attention of the one they admire, they're there unconditionally. Robin's presence isn't unconditional but it's not selfish, either. she calls him. she uses him.
she wants him.
nearly chokes him but he doesn't fight it. his eyes open halfway to gaze down at her, pupils blown wide and eyes almost black with arousal. he's light-headed, wants to pour everything into her. empty inside her. paint her and smear her with his cum and witness the aftermath of a woman satisfied. not hurrying to get away.]
Fuck.
[he lets her legs fall open on either side of him again and leans over her, cradling the back of her head and hand scrambling, searching. there. her clit. he rubs furiously, even faster than his hips move. he can feel gravity start to pull them down, sliding them off the edge because he's not sitting back anymore and counterbalancing.]
Don't, do this. Come with me. Come──
[he fights her hand on his neck, leaning down the last foot to kiss her hard on the mouth. groaning into her. gripping the back of her neck the same way her fingers cut his air flow. he can't hold it anymore.
he cums, breaking away from her mouth to choke on a gasp and around her hand. his head goes light, fuzzy, crowded with thoughts of how good it feels. his hips don't stutter, just pin to hers tightly as he finishes inside. little throbs make his hips twitch but hips remain flush to hers and his chest heaves, dripping glittery sweat on her stomach.]