kinktober 2024

8 | temperature play |wrioney

"Fuck..." Lyney hisses under his breath as cold, thick fingers wrap around his cock. "Stop that. You know I hate it when you do tha— aah.." his words trail off into a moan when Wriothesley just squeezes his cock tighter in his frigid hands.

Lyney knows it's his vision doing this, they've messed around enough times and experimented with weird shit long enough for him to tell it's not just the temperature of the prison being cold. "Aw, cmon kitty! You know you like it." Wriothesley's annoying smirk made Lyney's eye twitch.

Regardless, the man gradually warmed up his palm. Lyney sighed in relief, sagging in the Duke's hold. He let his guard down tok fast, though, seeing as Wriothesley was using his vision to remove every trace of cryo from the area, causing it to heat up his palm more than normal. He thrashed in Wriothesley's grip— they'd never played with temperature like this, however. Yes, Lyney has lost control of his vision and left small burn prints of his palms all over Wriothesley's back when they first started fucking. Wriothesley was too much for his body— especially when he started using his vision to change the temperature of his penis, making his cock far colder and the large amount of cum that he knotted Lyney with burn even hotter. It successfully drives Lyney crazy every single time.

(Sometimes, if Wriothesley is lucky enough, Lyney will lose control and more burn marks will be marred into his skin for a few days).

The Fatuus cries, trying to get away from the prison warden's hands. Wriothesley holds him tight, not letting the boy wriggle out of his lap. He slaps Lyney's inner thigh, making the boy jump with a small cry and settle down. "Sit still." Wriothesley chides.

"It's too fucking much, you bitch! You asshole, I fucking hate you—" Lyney chokes on his own spit as Wriothesley uses a calloused thumb to rub at his slit, making him leak precum like a faucet. Oh, it's still too god damn much.. "I don't care. You're going to sit there and take it like a good boy."

"Oh Archons, please! It's too hot...!" Lyney tries to use his own vision to remove the pyro from the area.

"You want it cold? I'll make it cold for you." And suddenly the hands pinning Lyney to Wriothesley's lap are covered in tiny bits of frost due to the moisture in the air. It's so cold and deep down Lyney knows he enjoys this, enjoys the way Wriothesley uses his god given gift to mess with him like this. It's sinful, and it just makes it all the more attractive.

Lyney is hardly coherent when he comes, moaning and hissing curses at Wriothesley and begging the Duke to touch him properly. Wriothesley watches him, ignoring the way his own cock twitches in his pants at how whorish Lyney looks as he's trying to catch his breath. The boy shakes and shudders and clings to Wriothesley's big chest as he comes down from his high. Wriothesley patiently waits for him to catch his breath, stroking his back comfortingly with his clean hand.

Once Lyney's finally calmed down enough to speak, he slaps Wriothesley's arm (it probably hurt him more than the Duke, Wriothesley feels like he's made of steel or something).

"Stop fucking with the temperature! I hate you!"

Wriothesley scoffs, amused, as Lyney begins to make his way to the couch in the office. "Stop acting like you don't come the hardest when I 'fuck with the temperature.'"

Lyney growls at him. "Whatever. Are you knotting me today or not?"

Wriothesley decided the argument doesn't matter as much as sticking his knot inside of this stupid little brat.