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[ingeniar]

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USERNAME: STARK

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[nightsung]

[ Delayed, while Shadowheart extricates herself from the girl who's giving her nothing, leaving her only with a slow build of frustration. ]

Maybe he already has.

Maybe you're chained to a heartless girl who just wants to use your mouth and your cock.

[ingeniar]

Worse things to be. At least you're alive. I don't mind that you want to use me.

[nightsung]

Mm. If I were dead, you'd go down with me.

How should I use you, then? In detail.

[ingeniar]

Right now? I'd let you climb into my lap. I'd touch you wherever you wanted to be touched, get you good and warm, though I bet you're probably feeling that already. Then you can do whatever you want. I think I'd want to see your face while you work yourself up and down. The wizard can watch too.

[nightsung]

I'll let you come inside me, if you lick it all up after.

Or maybe Stephen should get the privilege of tasting you on my lips. If he's putting his hands to good use, like I asked.

[ingeniar]

He's rubbing my foot. Going to give it a 5/10, don't know if I'd recommend it.
Hold on.

[ He's going to turn this into a phone call, actually. And put it on speaker on the couch next to him. Once she picks up: ]

Still there, little cricket?

[rehandle]

[ A disgruntled mumble - the betrayal: ]

She doesn't get pet names while she's holding me hostage.

[ Petty, but not upset. At least not about anything other than the impromptu interruption of his sewing project. ]

[ingeniar]

[ Immediately, sorry Shadowheart: ]

Hey, I'm pretty sure I remember you volunteering -- ow, watch the toes! Who taught you to give foot rubs? You need to go back to school. Wizard massage lessons.

[nightsung]

[ Little cricket sparks the smallest warmth in her, even as her ever-present grey threatens to snuff it out. Shadowheart holds fast, the ember burning her hands. ]

Surely you can do better than a five out of ten, Stephen.

If you can't, I can always keep Tony to myself when I get home. You can listen through the door, if you like.

[rehandle]

[ He's about to argue that she's got his hands, not his legs— then recalls that doors have handles.

😤

No verbal retort, but he jabs a thumb hard into the arch of Tony's foot in silent protest before following it with a more appropriate, focused application of slow, sweeping pressure. ]

[ingeniar]

[ The poke earns another ow!, but Tony is an easy mark for the rest of it. With an effort, he turns his attention back to the phone. ]

Hey, tell me more about what we're gonna do when you get home. Or what you're doing right now. Paint us a picture.

[nightsung]

[ She listens to the quiet creak of the sofa, the shift of fabric as the two men settle together. Hers. ]

I might ask for a foot massage, if Stephen's technique improves.

I'd like to lie down when I get home. So I'm wondering which one of you wants his head between my thighs, ass up on the bed while the other fingers him open.

[ingeniar]

Whoa, okay -- [ Over and around any contribution Stephen wants to make to that particular idea. ] Can I volunteer? Do we have to fight over it? Feel free to get interested, by the way, if you need my permission --

[ The last part directed at the man next to him, as he pointedly presses his foot more firmly into his lap. ]

[rehandle]

[ Which is fine, because Stephen was busy stuttering into a stunned stillness and wide-eyed silence that Tony's swift interjection does very little to remedy. His foot does, though, breath huffed out over a flinch, eyes gone unfocused for a second as he weathers the two-pronged attack of contact and verbal welcome.

Of course meaning he has to get his own back. One hand locks the offending foot in place, thumb working firmly, precisely now into the ball of it while his other hand circles Tony's ankle, journeying up under his pant leg, mapping out a trail along his calf. ]

He can have it. [ He says, trying not to think too hard about literally anything while endeavouring to make direct eye contact with the he in question. ] I might as well test out your teaching.

I promise to remind him how you like it once he starts getting sloppy.

[nightsung]

Someone's eager. [ Teasing, but there's a note of softness there. Fondness. Shadowheart knows it will start to hurt shortly, when warmth for anyone but Saber feels like fingers dug into bruised ribs, but it's worth it, to stay--something closer to human. For a moment, at least. ]

Maybe I should have snuck more toys into the village. Do you think we'd all be able to feel it? If one of us was plugged for each other?

[ingeniar]

Jesus Christ -- [ A slightly breathless blasphemy with unclear origins, courtesy of Shadowheart's dirty mind or what Stephen's doing with his hands, or maybe both. Maybe the way his desire for them feels suddenly huge and hollow, a bottomless pit that will never be filled, but aches for it nonetheless.

Tony straightens up on the couch, gaze locked on Stephen. He's starting to become aware that he's allowed himself to be pinned down from both sides, metaphorically speaking. Maybe literally speaking pretty soon. ]

We can all feel it, right? When everyone's.. into it. So, stands to reason that we'd all be able to.. uh.. [ Okay, he's getting distracted. ]

[rehandle]

Mhmm.

[ And just like that, the tables turn. The shocked uncertainty of a moment before is gone, smoothed out into steady eye contact, the subtle impression of a smirk. ]

Hey, little cricket? [ It doesn't sound the same as when Tony says it. Maybe that's because it's coming from the wrong mouth, or maybe it's because he's using it to punish him. A prelude to what comes next. ] Can you feel this?

[ Stephen shifts in his seat so he can slide his hand further up Tony's pant leg, blunt nails over hair and skin, squeezing tight into the calf muscle once he finds new purchase. His other hand hinges Tony's foot back down so he can roll up into it, jaw going loose, the precise shape and size of the attention he's paying clear through taut fabric and dim, fresh pleasure scattering out between them. ]

[nightsung]

Oh.

[ A soft, fluttery breath through the speaker, caught by surprise despite the fact that she asked for exactly this. Her cunt is already slick between her thighs, but by now her panties are soaked through--still a novel sensation, a cock firming and lengthening where there's nothing to touch. ]

There are--toys back home like this. Enchanted so we can feel it when we fuck into someone.

I think I'd like that, with you.

[ingeniar]

[ Somehow it doesn't feel so bad to discover that everything's changed in the space of a moment. Tony lets out a shaky breath of his own as he realises what Stephen is doing and feels the reverb of the feedback, staticky thrum of feeling through the carefully tuned wires inside him. The unmistakable shape of Stephen's hard dick against the sole of his foot, heat somehow getting through the fabric of trousers and sock. A vague pressure in his own lap, the ghost of himself. And a feeling of -- wetness, emptiness, clenching around nothing. ]

Can we, uh. Can we get some of those?

[ Still holding Stephen's gaze, he flexes his toes, experimentally. Pushes into him a little. Drops his own hand into his lap and thumbs open the top button on his pants, then strafes a palm down over himself. ]

Wonder what it'll feel like when it's not just a toy.

[rehandle]

[ A little hum of satisfaction - at the idea of those enchanted toys, at the press of Tony's foot, the shifting tide of sensation between three bodies (more, maybe, cock twitching as he wonders if Lanfear's laid down with this too, two of her bonded at play somewhere across the village.) His gaze, dropped briefly to watch Tony's hand move, lifts again to meet his eye. ]

Are you asking me to fuck you, Tony?

[ Shadowheart's uncomplicated knack for vulgarity makes a home in his mouth, and he uses it to meet the challenge head on, performing for the audience on the other end of the line as much as the other end of the couch. Voice pitched a little deeper. ]

Are you coming home? You're right. He is eager.

[nightsung]

[ Shadowheart was wanted elsewhere, had another home visit to make as healer, but compared to this—-it suddenly doesn’t matter. Her legs feel unsteady, and it’s taking all of her remaining self-control not to keep touching herself right here.

She can’t get off without Tony, and she doesn’t just want his verbal permission. ]

Yes.

[ Her voice thick, the upper hand passed to Stephen, for the moment. Funny, how Shadowheart thought their roles would be more straight-forward; instead, they keep surprising each other, passing off the scepter of control. ]

Wait for me. Before you—-

I’ll be there in five minutes.

[ingeniar]

[ The filthy riposte from the wizard earns a startled laugh from Tony, eyes wide, as delighted as he is incredulous to hear something like that. Unfortunately for everyone, he never turns down a challenge -- it usually just makes him worse.

He cants himself upwards, leaning over his own knee so he can tilt towards Stephen, a wicked smile on his face. In a state whisper deliberately loud enough for Shadowheart to overhear: ]

Hey, how far do you think we can get in five minutes?

[rehandle]

[ The answering spread of a grin as the dial turns again, leaves Shadowheart the one on the backfoot, and while that means it's coming for him next he'll revel in the right now. His murmur is conspiratorial and too loud to stay private when he responds: ]

Shall we find out?

[ And shifts, freeing his hand from Tony's trouser leg so he can lean in himself, stretching over to tap the screen on Tony's phone until chance alone makes the line go dead.

Hurry home, Shadowheart. Five minutes is an awfully long time. ]

[nightsung]

[ It takes her four, though there’s a lingering part of her that doesn’t want to be pinned as overeager, desperate. The part that withdrew from Stephen last month, that distrusted Tony, cold and unyielding.

Or maybe a part that doesn’t want to be left out, left behind. Shadowheart is flushed when she comes in the door, the scattered sense of pleasure converging as she reunites with two pieces of her whole.

She slips in behind Stephen on the couch, slender arms winding around his middle, her palm laying over top the hand that works the hot length of Tony’s cock. She squeezes, meanly, nosing into the salt-sweat behind Stephen’s ear. ]

I should tie your hands behind your back for hanging up on me.

[rehandle]

[ If he'd intended to be good, the proximity left over in the wake of the ended call had put paid to that plan. Only one another left to one-up and Stephen too high on his latest win to pass up the upper hand so soon. He's curled around Tony by the time Shadowheart arrives, calf hooked over shin to keep his thighs parted, hand around his cock and one up in his hair, encouraging his head back so Stephen can work at the skin of his throat with an eager mouth.

He feels her without needing to see her, all three of them soon a huddle that would almost be sweet if it weren't for that squeeze, the echo of it between his own legs, Shadowheart's voice so close to his ear issuing threat of punishment earning its own noticeable shudder. The cough of an out-of-place laugh thwarts his effort to leave another more lasting mark on Tony's skin, Stephen tilting his head just enough so she can hear him, panting around words. ]

We'd have to rework a lot of plans.

[ Not above being aggravating even as he feels the dial twisting away from him again, much to his continued delight. ]