“so,” lust says, casually, as though the thought of it doesn’t run a thrill through her entire body, “do you do all of your surgeries on yourself?”
—
in fatherfather cornello’s office, lust thanks viktor for his trust and his allyship the only way she knows how.
written by lust's player, julianna!
lust is more aware than she has ever been of the needs of others. she knows jayce is in the radio tower, or just outside it, waiting for them to come back with the key. she knows that, eventually, battler’s group and danny’s group will pass through their doorways, will end up waiting on the other side. lust is not typically a person who cares about being polite, though her adventures in the past several weeks have made her slightly more inclined that way. but right now, right now, with viktor in her arms, she is prepared to be more selfish than she’s ever been in her life.
the hug lasts a long time, long enough for lust to decide that jayce can fucking wait, long enough for her to inhale, and sink to her kneels on the next exhale. they don’t ask permission from each other. it’s as easy as killing viktor was, to look up at him from this position and thank him in a language far easier for her than words have ever been. viktor’s answer is in his eyes, in his hand as it unsteadily falls to her head, runs through her hair. she thinks, she should have kissed him first. she thinks, that would have been far more difficult than this.
lust was expecting the buttons, the zipper, the cargo shorts that are so painfully viktor she nearly rolls her eyes, but the layer of whole ass body suit underneath causes her to raise an eyebrow at him. he raises one back, and she takes this as consent to slice it open with a carefully speared forefinger. as the fabric unfolds, her eyes trace the lines of scars, mechanics, of a curling trail of hair and flashes of metal. she is the embodiment of lust, but sex has always been a chore. right now, it feels like a gift.
“so,” lust says, casually, as though the thought of it doesn’t run a thrill through her entire body, “do you do all of your surgeries on yourself?” she traces a finger along his dick as she waits for his answer, half her gaze on his eyes and half unable to look away from the results of his work.
“yes.”
“meta, right? did it…hurt?” she knows it hurt. she remembers what the auto-spinal surgery felt like.
“yes,” he says, but this time his voice is lower, raspier, understanding the way she does that pain and pleasure have always been in bed together, legs intertwined.
“good,” she says, and licks the same stripe her finger traced. he shudders, and it’s all that she needs before taking the rest of his dick in her mouth.