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What was she thinking?
What the fuck was she thinking?!
She was sleeping with the enemy, right? That’s what she was doing?
Shopkeeper was going to kill her.
That is, if Loid - no, Twilight - wasn’t going to kill her first with how much foreplay he was doing!
He hadn’t even touched anything important yet - just kept his hands running along her smooth skin as if she was only there to be felt, like a fuzzy blanket under the hands of a child. The menace had been doing this for the past thirty damn minutes, chuckling to himself every time he saw the utter vexation on her face when he caressed his thumbs on the inside of her thighs. “Loid! Please~!” she would whine, only for it to fall on deaf ears.
He was doing this on purpose!
His hands continued, fingers tracing scars and veins and whatever the hell else he could find on her, and she allowed herself to finally just submit to the sensations (aggravation would only serve to slow time after all), red eyes following his every movement while she placed her hand in his soft, blonde hair as he studied her as if she was some sort of masterpiece, some medical miracle under the eyes of a real doctor.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered before giving her stomach a kiss. “So fucking immaculate.”
That isn’t the look of a liar. Does he truly love me?
She watched as the man brought his lips to hers, hands still wandering her bare body, dancing on her skin like he were to die if he broke the contact. He kissed her again and again, tongue forcing its way into her mouth. She could smell his cologne and shampoo and body wash and sweat. She could taste the toothpaste he used right before executing his plan of seduction. She could feel the obvious arousal from the large tent in his lounge pants and the atmosphere around them, see that look of lust in his eyes every time he leaned back to glance at her, pupils blown and hiding sky blue. In such intimate moments, all she could think about was how much emotion he put into every action, every word, every touch, every look. “What you fucking do to me, Yor,” he spoke softly, deep in his voice, causing the fire in her belly to grow.
That was the phrase he seemed to speak whenever he was in a daze, a trance of what can only be described as pure and utter adoration. He loved her.
If you keep saying that - doing this, I’m going to start believing that this is real!
She felt his lips break from hers, feeling them travel to her neck to create a bruise. She had noticed he liked to leave marks, even when he didn’t want to admit it. There was always at least one or two on her the day after, whether it be on her neck or shoulders or most of the time sometimes on the inside of her thighs.
You would think a spy would like to be more discreet.
Then again, you would also think a spy wouldn’t actually fall head over heels in love with his fake wife.
You’re quite the intriguing man, Twilight.
His mouth only continued its voyage down south - kissing each of her collar bones, giving her the first taste of relief when he sucked and bit on her hardened nipples, letting his tongue slide down her stomach and groin until he finally - finally - reached her swollen clit.
Without warning, he ran his tongue over it before giving it a hard suck. Yor gasped, letting out a moan as he began to stimulate her hypersensitive nub without mercy.
There was one thing his mouth could do better than lying.
Tears left her eyes as he savagely assaulted her clit, making her see stars. He was sinfully good at this.
After a few moments of bliss, his hands gripped her legs and pulled them apart even further than they already were, giving him better access to her wet slit, seeping her juices. “ Loid~,” the assassin whimpered as she heard him let out that stupid laugh he always did when he knew he was being an ass, and he knew what she wanted. She wondered when he started doing that. She couldn’t even recall.
“Patience is a virtue, Yor,” he told her simply.
Yeah, next round I’m going to make sure that you learn that same lesson, you damn hypocrite! Then, you’ll be sor- ”Ahhh!” She screamed as he finally started to eat her out, feasting at her juices while his thumb rubbed circles on her bud.
Thank god Anya’s at Becky’s!
His talented tongue was inside of her, getting every last drop of fluid as it could, drinking it as if it were water. His strong hands held her legs in place, somehow managing to overpower her immense strength. Although, that was likely a good thing. She didn’t want to break his neck or almost do so - again. The man was really dancing with the devil every time he ate her out.
You would think a spy wouldn’t be so willing to risk his life nearly every night, but at this point she stopped questioning his decisions. Not that she could question or even think of anything right now except for the pleasure coursing through her body like blood through her veins.
Soon enough, her orgasm ripped through her, a high-pitched scream escaping her as she came, body shaking violently as her husband’s tongue saw her through it and put her into overstimulation without letting her relax for even a millisecond. Tremors continued to make her shudder even after Loid pulled back as she desperately tried to even her breathing and gain back her sense of awareness. She honestly couldn’t tell if the sheets below her felt hot, cold, or just sopping wet - likely the last.
“Fuck, Yor. You look irresistible every time you come like that,” her husband’s voice rang out, ardor and infatuation apparent in his voice. “I know I’ve said this before, but I’m not lying when I tell you I could watch you like this for hours.”
Oh, I know, Agent Twilight. Out of all the bullshit that leaves your mouth, I know for a fact that that’s not part of it.
Yor’s ample chest was still rising and falling dramatically, sporadically, lungs killing for the oxygen his little stunt took from them.
“I’ve been looking forward to this all week, you know. It feels like we never get the house to ourselves.” He leaned forward once more to lick at her vehement nub, a shockwave making its way up her spine at the contact.
“Hah~!”
“I’m going to make use of every second of every minute of every hour I have with you. I’m not going to let even a single moment of this alone time go to waste,” he promised her, kissing right where he had previously licked. His hands were beginning to roam again. He seemed to love touching her, feeling her. She couldn’t help but feel the same. “I’m not sure if I’ll be able to hold back enough for you to be able to walk tomorrow, so apologies in advance.” Always planning ahead, that man.
Forget killing her with foreplay, the best assassin in Garden is going to be taken out by an enemy’s dick - not just any enemy either, the one they’d been hunting for for nearly a decade.
Well, at least her reputation would remain somewhat intact.
She’d at least be taken out by a well-endowed, formidable opponent - well, lover rather.
“Loid, I can’t wait any longer,” Yor forced in between breaths. She honestly couldn’t believe she was still able to properly speak.
Blue connected with red, a small, affectionate smile on the handsome doctor’s spy’s face. Loid stood up, giving Yor that mouth watering view of his chest and abdomen, solid muscle adorning his figure.
“I need to prep you first. I don’t want to hurt you,” he told her. She nearly whined in protest, but she knew he was right - once again, he was quite well-endowed.
He bent over her, giving her a peck on the lips, then giving her another and another before it somehow managed to brew into a full out heated makeout session. The feel of his lips on hers always made her feel like she was flying, always made her head seem bigger than what it was. It was when she was kissing him, when she was watching him be vulnerable only to her, that she was able to understand why Camilla had gotten the way she did that night at the party.
If Dominic was a lollipop, Loid was the whole damn candy store with how sweet he was. If Dominic was a campfire, Loid was the entire sun with how hot he was.
No wonder why Camilla was jealous that Yor was Mrs. Forger. No wonder why Fiona hated her guts.
She was the one of his affections, his fantasies, his love.
His moans, which brought her out of her ego and into the present, were like music to her ears. He’d always had such a nice voice.
That moan, however, turned into a sly, maddening chuckle when his bare left ring finger slipped past her defenses and into her heat, making her gasp his name involuntarily.
Almost as soon as it had slid in, he had slid it out, instead putting his lips around that finger. “Sorry, needed another taste,” he smirked after licking his digit clean. “You’re so delicious, Yor.”
“Loid!” she whined irritably. He fucking laughed.
“Sorry,” he chuckled, no contrition in his word whatsoever, as he inserted his index finger inside her. He was always so slow when he first entered her, whether it be with his finger or member, wanting her to get used to the sensations, to be able to feel every little movement he made.
And when he inserted a second digit alongside the first, that was always when the pleasure began to hit and the discomfort of first being penetrated subsided. He would bury them so far deep that she could feel his knuckles against her opening, and he would spread them out to stretch her walls enough for it to be comfortable when they finally got to the main course. But he never stopped there, he would always add a third and sometimes even a fourth just in case. There had even been one time he had inserted his entire fist with the help of a lot of lube.
But tonight, he seemed to only go for three. She had to wonder if that was just him getting impatient though as she could see a small wet spot at the crotch of his pants.
She jolted when he suddenly stroked her g-spot, practically painting a target on it as once he noticed it he had apparently made it his mission to hit the spot every time.
And soon enough, tremors were once again shooting violently through her body, ample breasts going up and down, up and down, up and down in uneven increments as her sanity nearly spiraled out of control, mind nearly going blank and sight almost falling into complete black. She could feel warm liquid coat her thighs and the already soaking bed sheets beneath. She could barely hear anything around her, her head felt so fuzzy. The only thing she had really processed entering her ears was the low curse her husband let out as she had lost herself to pleasure for the second time that night.
The afterglow was almost too much for her to bear. Everything seemed blurry for a solid minute or two or three with the only feelings she had being the intense shocks of electricity still shocking her, a thumb in her hair slowly petting her behind the ear, and lips landing pecks on her forehead and cheeks. Low whispers were there somewhere in the background, but there was no way she could possibly discern what they were saying at the moment.
The first thing she was able to clearly hear aside from that first curse was her husband talking to himself. “Maybe I went a little overboard this time,” she heard him tell himself. She’d laugh if she wasn’t still sucking in air like she was about to die.
You think? I almost passed out.
It felt incredible though. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.
“Yor?” Loid spoke softly, a certain emotion peeking out in the sound of her name. “You okay?” he asked, obviously concerned, finger stroking through silky, black locks.
She was still breathing hard, but she managed to let out her signature giggle - the one that her husband loved. “I’m wonderful,” she reassured him. “I did almost pass out though. What would you have done if I’d have fallen asleep before you got to finish?”
“Well, I probably wouldn’t have thought much about it if I was busy worrying about your wellbeing. I am glad that that didn’t happen though,” he told her, landing a quick kiss on her forehead and leaning back to give his wife some space. “I’ll be more careful to not bring you to that point next time though. While you didn’t faint this time, who’s to say you won’t next time.”
“Shame really. I absolutely loved that.”
They shared a laugh as Yor sat up a bit to kiss her lover’s bruised lips, who reciprocated without hesitation. They only ever separated to breathe and to speak words of love and lust to each other.
I love you, Loid Forger - Twilight. Whoever the hell you are.
His kisses slowed for a second before seeming to randomly pick up the pace, almost as if he had found a new goal. Something must have turned him on like nothing else - what it was, Yor wasn’t sure - because not long after was the sturdy blonde forcing his hips in between her legs, hands moving to pull his pants down and legs working to pull out of them and kick them to the side in one fluid motion. His cock sprang free - Loid apparently having gone commando (meaning he had planned to have his way with Yor tonight - cocky bastard) - ready to engulf itself in the familiar heat of Yor Briar Forger.
“Loid!” Yor yelped in surprise as Loid grabbed her left leg and forced it up to where it was right beside her face - she could almost see him praising whatever god he prayed to for giving her such flexibility.
“Fuck, Yor. The shit you make me do,” the spy muttered, nearly too soft to hear. She observed as he snagged a nearby bottle of lube, conveniently having been placed on the bed earlier, and squeezed some into his hand before gliding the contents over his hard length. Yor could only see the thinnest ring of blue in his eyes now, pupils so blown and dark with fervor. “ I love you,” he was likely rambling again. “I love you so much.” Scratch that, he was rambling again.
No, that wasn’t right.
“Fuck, I love you.”
He wasn’t rambling.
Twilight had cracked.
“I love you so fucking much, Yor.”
Twilight had cracked once again, allowing the true man underneath to bleed through - the man who he must have thought he had lost in himself over a decade ago, the man who longed for normalcy, for love, for touch, for a family.
And here, Yor was - able to see this display of utter vulnerability.
Ever since she had found out his true identity, she could pick apart this riveting man practically to his cells, his very atoms. While it was true she was naive and believed his lies at first, she could now sort lie from truth like it was second nature - no, it was second nature now. She had gotten so practiced at it that now she even knew how to drag the truth out from the lies, knew how to make him snap as he was now and show her the real man underneath - the one with no name but with all of the heart, the soul, the spirit.
It made her think of the words he seemed to now whisper to her every night - “What you do to me.”
What I can do to you is nothing compared to what you’ve done to me.
You’ve softened a killer, Twilight. You’ve taken away what I took such pride in and replaced it with yourself. You truly are capable of anything as the rumors state. Twilight, you have become my-
One thrust was all it took, and the spy and assassin, fated enemies and forbidden lovers, became one - a gasp escaping the murderer’s lips while a groan scratched out from her target’s throat. Or, was it the other way around tonight? The two of them stayed still for a second, possibly a full minute, searching for the right moment to continue, wanting to make both the moment and the round last as long as it possibly could.
When their eyes met, did they determine that it was the right time to push forward, quite literally for Twilight after he drew his hips back to force himself deeper into his wife. He started a steady tempo, fingers crawling around the leg not currently parallel to her torso and contorting it into the same position as the other for him to be able to use them as handles so as to not fall on top of her.
Her hands had involuntarily begun to clutch at the bed sheets beneath her, nearly ripping holes into the fabric as she felt every inch of her husband’s large cock rock against her insides oh so tantalizingly.
Her sensitive skin shrieked at the heat around her, wanting to break free from its clutches like it was trying to escape the flames of hell in a fruitless attempt - fitting for her really. His hands gripping her calves weren’t helping her cool down either, body sending wave after wave of lust to burn her skin even further from his touch, to dump more gas over the flame inside her abdomen.
The head of his length was pressing against her cervix with every thrust, the rest of it stretching her like nothing else. At this point, she didn’t think anything except for him being the only one who could give her the pleasure she desired, the pleasure she dreamed of. He had molded her around him, made her capable to fit him and only him. He had claimed her body as his own - no one else could have it, make love to it as he did. It was his. She was his - whether it be Twilight’s or Loid’s. She belonged to the man behind both of them.
His rolling hips were beginning to get faster, beginning to get more and more uncontrollable. Yor’s sensibility was being thrown out the window with every hard push against her g-spot, her senses being completely overwhelmed by this absolute statue of a man. She was getting close - oh so close. She was at the edge, on the line, about to go over the bridge. Yes! Yes! Ye-
He stopped.
The bastard fucking stopped!
The woman studied his expression through watery eyes, taking note of how strained he looked, like he hadn’t wanted to stop, like he just had to complete the twelve labors of Heracles just to cease his movements.
What the hell was he trying to do?
She felt him pull out, hole now angrily empty. Yor started a whine in protest before being unceremoniously flipped onto her stomach and guided onto her hands and knees. His right hand grabbed onto her hair and rammed her front into the mattress, face on its side for her sounds of ecstasy to ring out.
Oh. That’s what he wanted.
He wanted to hear her scream. He wanted to hear her lose her mind, to hear her ramble as he so often did at the height of their love making.
And it was only a second before his wish was granted.
A high-pitched wail reverberated through his ears as he filled her to the brim once more. He set a frenetic melody with his ruts, specifically designed to make her squeals and coerced words flow out of her like a violent waterfall.
The new angle brought him ever deeper inside her, and his large hands gripped her hips like a lifeline, allowing him to fuck her as if it was the last thing he’d ever do, the last mission he’d ever see through to the end.
“LOID!!”
TWILIGHT!!
The thrusting quickened.
“LOID!!”
TWILIGHT!!
He went even further inside her, bucking into her as hard as he possibly could without hurting her. The lewd slaps of skin on skin could probably be heard through the wall.
“LOID!!”
TWILIGHT!!
The line inside her was milliseconds from snapping in two; she was milliseconds from coming completely undone like he wanted her to. He was taking her apart just as she had done to him, his lies, his truths. Her sanity was braying, the words she spoke, cried, sobbed, no longer going through a filter. She was long past that.
How long was he going to go?
What was his goal?
“TWILIGHT!!!”
“FUCK!” was the only warning she got before he spilled his essence inside her, pump after pump painting her cunt a milky white. Her body convulsed around him, mind and senses once again nearly going into total black, with only the seed and juices spilling down her legs keeping her in the realm of consciousness.
“Shit. Fuck,” her husband could only manage, swear after swear escaping his fatigued lips. At some point, it changed to hushed “I love you”s and “Yor” after what felt like an eternity of afterglow.
And after an eternity more, he finally slipped out, taking away the dam that kept his abundant release within her and causing it to ooze out even further. He ran kisses up and down her back while she caught her breath, turning her to allow her to lay down after she mostly managed to do so.
Yor still felt as though she were in the clouds, still felt as though heaven had managed to claim her from the grips of hell. Loid’s hands had returned to their earlier ministrations of light and loving caresses with pecks and utterances of near adulation scattered in between.
One of her own hands returned to nestle between the shorter strands of blonde on the back of his neck, massaging it with the utmost care, the most gentility she could muster with her insane strength.
Her red eyes landed upon the top of his face, smiling at how pure the sight of him doting on her was. “I love you,” she said to him, his lips turning upwards against her skin. He lifted his head up and connected them with her own.
“I love you, too.”
Silence overtook them in the comfortable pause between love making, another round being an inevitability. The now mostly dormant city outside their apartment offered just enough noise for their lack of conversation to not be unsettling.
“Yor,” Loid spoke as he nuzzled his head into her neck, interrupting the quietness.
“Yes, Loid?”
“How long have you known?” he asked, catching her attention.
He rose up to look into her eyes, waiting patiently for her answer, while red pointed at him in confusion.
“How long have I known what?”
“About who I am?”
About who you - wait, wait.
“Wh-what gave it away?”
“‘I love you, Loid Forger - Twilight. Whoever the hell you are.’ That’s what you said, is it not?”
Yor couldn’t find words at this revelation, neither on her lips or in her mind.
He knew.
He knew she knew.
Twilight, you truly are my vice.
“I-,” Yor started, nervous as to what his reaction would be. He might actually kill me. It’s not like I have the strength to fight back right now. “I’ve known for about a month now. I, uh, saw you one night and pieced it together.”
Her lover simply nodded, more to himself it seemed than to her, his lips moving to right beside her ear.
What is he-
“Well, I love you, Yor Briar - Thorn Princess. Whoever the hell you are,” he finally chuckled.
Silence.
Dead silence.
. . .
. . .
And then that fucking giggle.