Ania giving Julian all the affection ^^
Julian/Reader
Notes: GN reader, lots of teasing, public teasing, alcohol, frottage, fingering, handjobs, 3.1k words
Julian flips through pages of a worn leather notebook, thick brows furrowed in concentration. Light touches of fingertips across the nape of his neck catch his attention with a shiver. “You’re working too hard.” You murmur in his ear, trailing your hand onto his shoulder. Julian leans back against you, sighing softly. “I know, darling..it’s just hard to tear myself away.”
You grab his chin between your fingers and tilt his head to yours, lips ghosting over his. “I’m sure you can take a break, yeah?” Your eyes dance with gentle desire and Julian isn’t aware he’s nodding until you still his head. You close the distance and cup your palm against his cheek. The redhead shifts in his seat, now much too uncomfortable against the wood. Slowly, he rises and presses flush against you.
Your teeth catch his bottom lip and pull. Julian groans, his hands curling around your back.
Much to Julian’s displeasure, you pull away. He tries to follow, lips trembling slightly. You lace your fingers through the hair on his nape and tug his head back. He bites his lip.
“Mmn,” Julian melts against you as you press open mouthed kisses against his throat. You press Julian against the desk and he follows, lifting his leg to sit on the edge, oblivious to papers and quills. His hands curl around any part of you he can grab, soft whimpers leaking from his lips. Your teeth graze against his jugular, a tease and a promise. Slowly, you push more pressure onto his flesh, feeling it meld against your incisors.
“D-dear..” the burn of the dull edge of teeth is delightful. Quicker this time, you lock your jaw around the jugular muscle and your teeth pop through the skin. Bubbles of copper blood settle on your tongue. “Ah! Oh, you’re heaven on earth..” Julian bites his bottom lip, scratching his blunt nails against your scalp. You lick the shallow wound when you dislodge your teeth, a slow drag of wet muscle. He’s breathing heavy, ragged breaths tearing from his throat.
You press your palm against his thigh, grabbing lean flesh through his woolen trousers. He bucks his hips on instinct. “Touch me, please,”
Warm skin is felt even through the cloth as you move your palm against the growing tent in his pants. You move your hand in slow circles, cupping the bulge. Julian rocks against you, hooking his arms around your neck. “Ohh, a little harder, pretty please?” He bats his lashes for extra flair, though keens when your hand gets rougher. You squeeze his erection and Julian crys, legs spreading wider, knocking over a jar of ebony ink in the process. At the moment, he can’t bring himself to care.
“Yes, th-that’s it—oh, you don’t know wh-what you do to me-“ Julian continues to blather, higher octave and stumbling over his tongue.
You wonder if you could make him come in his pants like a teenager.
Heat fills Julian’s body like molten lava, encompassing him in a tight vice. Your tongue lathes over his throat, briefly pausing to press your teeth against the taut muscles of his neck. Your free hand teases at the high waist of his trousers, toying with the fringes of fabric. “Tell me, my love—would you come like this if it was all I offered?”
Julian rips his head back, whining loud and stuttering. “Yes, I’ll take wh-whatever you give m-me!”
A devious smirk spreads over your lips. Your touch gets lighter and quiet pleas fill the air. “Your break is over.” Your hand halts and he throbs against your palm.
“Wh-“
You pull yourself away from him, much to his confusion and horror. “W-wait—“
You straighten his collar and neaten your clothes. “You can’t stay too long from your work. I hope our break relaxed your mind.”
Julian scoots off the desk, legs wobbling. You press a hand to his chest, halting him from getting any closer. “Now, don’t get too greedy.”
“Yes, dear..”
He’s painfully hard, small spots of dark grey dampen the front. “Don’t touch yourself either, not unless I say.”
Julian nods obediently, a bright flush still staining his face. You peck his kiss swollen lips and leave without another word.
He’s left unsatisfied and with an inky mess staining the wood of his desk.
Could he not catch a break? Well, he supposes the reward is worth the wait, even when the wait includes the pestering game of his lover.
He’s finished his work, along with cleaning the stain of bitter ink. A gray reminder remains, adding to the coffee rings and hardened globs of candle wax.
Julian’s calmed down by now, though still on edge, to say the least.
Once the workroom is tidy, he shucks on his coat and exits, stepping into the palace halls. It’s warmly lit and inviting, a stark contrast from the grim atmosphere left while the countess slumbered. Julian strides down the hall in wide steps, boots clicking against the marble.
Delicate music strums from the grand rooms he walks past. Familiar voices catch his ears and he turns his head to the archway leading to a lounge. In there is Nadia, watching you teach a few maids simple magic.
“Ah, Julian, you’re just in time—our palace magician has decided to demonstrate their abilities.” Nadia’s voice is like smooth silk and she beckons Julian with the wave of her hand. You turn your head and grin wide as Julian settles next to Nadia on the lavish sofa. You blow a kiss and a plume of red velvet smoke puffs from your pursed lips, drifting into the lazy shape of a heart. The maids gasp in delight.
Julian laughs, cheeks tinting a happy pink. “Oh, how sweet! Julian, you’ve gotten quite lucky.” A smile tugs on Nadia’s lips and she lifts her teacup to sip, the smell of sharp spices and mellow herbs fill his nose. “Yes, very lucky.”
You send him a cheeky wink and turn to the maids, instructing them on how to perform different tricks, including the smoke show you demonstrated just moments ago.
Nadia offers Julian a cup of fragrant tea and he accepts with a small ‘thank you’. “How has your work been coming along?” She asks with a quirked brow, crossing one leg over the other. “Excellent! I’ve come up with some more tonic solutions, they’ll be great for the coming winter colds.” Julian starts to ramble about his studies and solutions to minor ailments that arise throughout Vesuvia.
Suddenly, your voice slips into the conversation as you stride over. The maids have gone back to their duties after asking for another magic lesson. Another day, you promised.
“I visited earlier, my dear Julian is definitely the hard worker.” Julian smiles at your praise, reaching for your hand when you come to sit next to him. “Though he seemed a bit distracted, perhaps too much work?” You quip, lightly squeezing his hand. His heart flutters slightly, he knows exactly what you’re hinting at.
“Oh, you mustn’t overwork yourself, Doctor.” Nadia takes a concerned tone, red eyes focusing in on Julian’s face, as if searching for dark circles or other signs of exhaustion. “No, no—Nadia, I assure you, I’m just fine.”
Nadia doesn’t seem too convinced. You slip your hand from Julian’s and trail your fingers over his wrist. He stifles a gasp when you cool your fingertips, an icy touch shocking the pulsed vein at his wrist. “A tired doctor is a weakened doctor,” Nadia begins, clasping her hands together. “Take some time for yourself, I insist. There’s been no drastic ailments among the people.”
You continue to stroke your fingertips against his inner wrist and palm, alternating between a chilled frost and a sun kissed heat. It’s incredibly distracting for the poor plague doctor. “Nadia—“
“Aht, we have plenty more doctors in case any situation arises.” Nadia refuses to take no for an answer. After everything they’ve been through, clearing his name, coming back to life, defeating the devil, a break is well overdue. A vacation really, you think to yourself. Perhaps Julian could take you out into the sea and you could see his pirate side for yourself.
“Don’t you think you should relax, Julian?” You perk up, knocking your knees against his. “See? Even your beloved agrees. It’s settled, you’re relieved of your duties for the day.” Nadia nods to herself and checks the ornate clock hanging on the wall. “Oh my! Time has slipped from me. I’ll see you both soon.”
With that, Nadia leaves, presumably to a meeting with the council. Well, the new council at least. Julian sighs heavily when the door closes. “You treacherous little thing!” He gasps before crashing against you to press fervent kisses to your lips. You giggle against him, mischievous. You entertain him, pressing back against him and licking into his mouth. You retreat from the drastic temperatures and deliver a light zap against the small of his back.
Julian chokes back a moan, muffled against your lips. You push him away, running your thumb over his lower lip. “Not here.” You whisper, relishing the desperate gleam in his gray eyes. “When?” He asks, trembling as he grips his thighs.
You hum, making a show of thinking. “Depends on if you’re good. It can be tonight, but if you’re bad..” You voice trails and your eyes darken. “Maybe I’ll just keep winding you up and leave you like that.” Julian groans, pitiful and needy. “I’ll be good, I swear—I’ll be so good!” He pleads and you shush him with the press of your finger to his lips.
“I know you will. You always are, aren’t you Ilya? Yes, my good boy.” You purr, egging him on a little more. Julian nods quickly, biting his lip. “Why don’t we head out for a few drinks and we’ll see how you behave.”
Oh, you would truly be the death of him. Please, make it a slow, painful one.
The walk to the Rowdy Raven is spent sneaking kisses and traveling hands and you’re tempted to shove him into an alley and have your way with him then and there, but you press on. The build up would be worth it, and riling Julian up is so easy.
You curl your arm around his hips, resting your hand above his bottom. Julian attempts to focus on the stories he’s telling you, rather than your traveling hand that’s sliding very close to his—
“We’re here!” Julian snaps his gaze to the tavern door, the buzzing warmth beckoning him through the slim windows. He pushes open the door and you follow, watching with a delighted smile as he greets the other inhabitants. He fits in here, you think to yourself. You suppose this is his kind of crowd.
Julian holds his arm out and gestures you to a booth, all the way in the back. Sneaky, you think, unsure whether or not he picked it on purpose or not. You settle onto the worn leather seats. “I’ll go fetch us some drinks.”
With that, he departs, weaving through the boisterous crowd gracefully. You watch from afar, resting your cheek on your palm. Julian glows in the warm light, wide grin on his pale face. You wonder how you got so lucky.
He returns with two tankards gripped in his slender fingers, beer foam sloshing over the rim and onto his knuckles. He sets them down with a clink! and sits across from you. There’s too little space to sit next to each other, but the distance brews ideas in your skull.
“Here, my love.” Julian pushes your tankard to you, lifting his own and chugging from it. Salty Bitters, as per usual.
You drink from yours, a burn trickling down your throat and a warmth buzzing through your body as you slowly empty your tankard.
You’ve finished yours by the time Julian has chugged down his second. He’s rambling now, cheeks flushed as he humors you with stories and jokes. You bite your lip as you slowly inch your foot closer to his under the table. Julian giggles, knocking his foot into yours when you push against his.
“Oho! Are we playing footsies now?” He quirks a brow with a smirk.
“Something like that.” You retort and slip your foot in between his gangly legs, bragging it up his thigh.
Julian’s smirk falters and his lips quiver. “T-testing my patience, are you?” He twitches into your touch nonetheless. You press your foot lightly against his crotch, eyes lidded. “Mmhm. Are you gonna be good?” You ask lowly, adding more pressure. Julian whimpers.
“Yes.”
“Go get me another drink.”
He stares dumbly for a moment and you retract your foot. “If you can last by the time I’m finished my drink, we can go home and I’ll give you what you want.” You lean back against the seat and cross your arms.
Julian nods, standing on slightly wobbly legs. Luckily for him, he’s not noticeably hard yet. He leans in to press a kiss to your lips. You turn your head and kiss his cheek instead. “That’s my good boy.” You coo into his ear. He jolts upright, as red as a tomato and flounders before he trots off to fetch another drink.
When he comes back, he’s so rushed he nearly topples onto the sticky floorboards. “Drink up, darling.” Julian sets the tankard in front of you and plops back down into his seat. Perhaps out of instinct, he’s widened his legs.
You lift the glass to your lips and sip, lifting your foot against him again. Julian stifles a groan as you push against him and grind the sole of your shoe against him. You take slower than you usually do to finish your booze, just to watch as Julian tries to keep himself from rutting against your foot.
He braces his forearms against the table, nearly catching the leather of his gloves against the splintered wood. “I can’t wait for when I can take you back home,” you begin after you lower the glass from your lips, licking the bitter liquid from the corners of your mouth. “I’m gonna make you forget how to speak, by the time I’m done with you.”
You rub circles on his hardening cock, taking another gulp as Julian whines, eyebrows furrowing. He’s so red he looks like he’ll pop. For once, Julian is at a loss for words. You suppose it was easier than you thought to silence him.
Julian starts to close his thighs around you and you kick them back apart. “Remember what I told you, Ilyusha, no coming yet.” Tease drips from your voice that melts his brain. “Yes-yes, I’m g-good, I’ll be go-good.” Julian mewls, hushed and strained.
You're nearly done, watching Julian intently as you use more force. Your foot’s starting to get tired and your calves start to burn, but you ignore the feeling in favor to torture your lover.
He drops his head against the table with a thump and rocks not-so-subtly in the booth.
You down the rest of the booze and slam it against the table. Julian perks up, open mouthed and glassy eyed. “Good job.” You remove your foot, sliding out of the booth and Julian scrambles out of the booth after you. He’s able to hide his erection with his coat, and you’re nearly cruel enough to make him go without it.
Perhaps he’s already died and went to heaven, or maybe hell. He questions if you're the devil themself with how you’ve played him like a fiddle.
Julian’s shoved to the bed and a warm body presses against him. “Good boy, Ilya— I’m so proud.” Your voice is as sweet as honey as you rip the clothes off of him. “Oh, I love you, I love you,” Julian chants, grabbing your face and peppering kisses against your skin.
You laugh, carefree and love struck. “Words don’t describe how much I love you.” You whisper to him, pulling off the last garment of clothing that leaves him as naked as the day he was born.
Julian looks as if he might cry, though the tears dissipate as you slick your hand with fragrant oil from your bedside table and wrap a warm hand around him. “Yesyesyes—p-please!”
“Shh,” you hush him, picking up a quick pace. “Enjoy yourself.” You twist your palm and Julian bucks his hips up against you, throwing his head back against the plush pillows. “I-I couldn’t work again, after you le-left,” he hisses, mouth agape as he stares up at you like he’s ingraining the scene into his memory.
“I k-kept thinking, fuck! A-about yo-you—“ Julian sobs and you dip your other hand into the open jar of oil, pressing a slicked finger against his hole. “I-oh, fuck, please!” Julian shudders as you push your finger into him, pumping in and out as you fist his cock.
He squirms, torn between pushing into your hand or onto your finger. You press another finger in, finding his prostate after a few more exploratory thrust. Julian clenches as the bedsheets below, boisterous moans and squeals ripping from his throat.
“Tell me how it feels, Ilya. Tell me what you wanted me to do.” You punctuate each of his cries with another thrust against his sweet spot, jerking him just how he likes; rough and mercilessly.
Julian swallows thickly, his eyelids heavy and his stomach tightening in a knot. “It-it feels so fu-fucking good!” He swears in a language you're unfamiliar with. “I wanted you t-to bend me ove-er my desk—and f-fuck my brains out!” It takes longer for Julian to stumble over his words, eyes rolling to the back of his skull at the intense stimulation.
“Yeah? Maybe next time I will—I’ll bend you over and fuck you till your sore. I’d make you scream loud enough that everybody would hear you. Everyone will know you’re mine.”
That nearly sends him over. “Oh gods! C-can I-“
You apply steady pressure to his prostate, pupils blown with lust. “Cum for me.”
Julian nearly explodes, fucking into your fist a few more times before climaxing, painting his flushed chest white. You continue to stroke him through his orgasm, milking him for everything he’s got, thrusting your fingers in slow rhythm.
“Good job, good boy.” Julian sees stars, overwhelmed with feelings he couldn’t remember the name of. Slowly, after what feels like hours, he comes down from his high, panting heavily.
You pull your fingers from him and release your grip from his spent cock. The smell of sweat, sex, and sandalwood wash over the both of you. You wipe your hands off on the sheets and flop down next to him, pressing kisses over his face.
Julian laughs weakly, sighing contentedly when you press a gentle kiss to his lips. “You’re so good to me.” You sigh against him, smoothing his auburn hair back. It spreads around his head like a flaming halo.
Julian gazes at you like you were the sun, moon, and earth all combined, like you were the very air he breathed.
Love had never felt more addicting.
Husbands
It's the magician's birthday🎈
Julian/Reader
Notes: GN reader, alcohol, semi public, watersports, 2k words
☞. . . Slowly I’m getting my work from ao3 on here as well! I have a series there called Julian’s Kinky Escapades that I’m posting the works of here! You can check this one out under the cut :)
There was no doubt in your mind where you’d find Julian. The night was young and the smell of fresh rain dripping off of blooming flowers was exquisite. Well, that was before you approached the south end. Then the smell turned sour, reeked of something spoiled and despair. You imagined that Julian would believe he fit right in. Nestled between dark, looming structures is the warm haven of the Rowdy Raven; a mysterious pub for a mysterious crowd. You can hear the loud cheers and crashing barstools from outside.
With a huff you push the doors open, heavy wood and rusted metal plaques. Warm orange hues dance across the pub, moths fluttering around the fizzing lightbulbs. Your eyes scan for a tall redhead, flicking from table to table until you spot him, hunched over a tankard. Well, more like a handful of tankards.
“Julian!” You call and his head jerks up, a bright smile spreading across his cheeks. He calls your name with excitement and waves you over with a gloved hand. “What a sight for a sore eye!” Julian tugs you into the booth, pressing you close against his side. He smells of bitter ink and booze. You crack a smile and tug his ear playfully. You chuckle at his dramatic whine. “What are you doing here alone?”
Julian relaxes back into the worn leather booth, the fabric creaking under the shifted weight. “Waiting for my favorite magician, of course.” He grins, toothy and quirked. “Yeah, well I got your note,” you wave the rolled paper in your hand in front of his face.
Your evening was interrupted by the screeching caw of a familiar crow. Malak flies into your window before pecking at the glass, demanding entry. You rushed over, tripping over small, knitted snake sweaters before hastily unlocking the window and throwing it open. “Malak!” You gasped. Was something wrong? He drops a scroll from his talons onto the floor, settling down on the window sill and preening his ruffled feathers with an irritated trill. You bend down and pick up the scroll, unrolling it to scan your eyes over yellowed paper and scrawled black ink. You can tell it’s from Julian, you just can’t read his drunken handwriting. It’s sloppy and smeared with his telltale signature at the bottom, along with crudely drawn figures you only assume are supposed to be the two of you with a dozen hearts surrounding their heads. You sigh, heavy and long.
You thwack Julian over the head with the scroll. “I can’t read your handwriting, dummy!” You scold, smacking him a few more times for good measure. He hunches his shoulder and shields his head. “Ow! Hey-“ Julian snatched the scroll from you. “I'll have you know my handwriting is perfectly eligible!” He huffs, unrolling the paper and scanning his eyes over the chicken scratch. Slowly his eyebrows furrow and he mumbles concernedly under his breath. Your eyebrows quirk and you cross your arms while Julian struggles to make out his own writing.
Julian flushes, tossing the paper aside. “Well! Nothing’s ever perfect.” He throws an arm over your shoulder, silken cotton rubbing against your side. “Uh huh.” A sly grin spreads across your face in response. You find it endearing, even with his shitty handwriting and even shittier sketches. He wrote for you in a rickety pub and sent it through a crow, how more romantic could it get? “How drunk were you when you wrote that?” You ponder, running your finger over the cool condensation of a water pitcher, ice clinking subtly. At least he tried to sober up.
“Hm,” Julian starts counting on his fingers before snorting. “Bah, doesn’t matter! You’re here now, my dear and that’s what matters.” He waggles his brows and turns to take a swig from his tankard. You rub between your eyebrows. “You know I don’t like when you drink too much.”
That seems to coax Julian to set the tankard aside. “Ah, sorry dear..” He sighs, fingers rubbing soothing circles in your arm. An idea brews in your skull. “How about this,” you reach forward and wrap your fingers around the pitcher's handle, pouring crystalline water into a glass. “Finish drinking this and I’ll give you a reward.” You hum, soft and rumbling as you push the glass to him, dampness smearing against the wooden table.
Julian perks at the idea of a reward, heart fluttering in his broad chest. “What kind of reward?” He questions, running his pointer finger across the rim of the glass. Your lips stretch into a devious smirk. “The kind you get in a dirty alley.” Sultry and ravenous tones drip from your hushed voice, sending a chill up Julian’s spine. “That’s my favorite kind of reward,” Julian slurs, grabbing the glass and downing it with a few gulps. He comes back gasping and licks his lips. “Finished.” Julian quips triumphantly.
You click your tongue. “Ah, ah, ah, the whole pitcher.” You correct, pulling the glass from his grip to fill it again. Julian shifts in his seat. “Oh, I knew it wouldn’t be that easy..” he groans, taking the glass back when you top it off.
It takes a few more refills until the pitcher is empty and Julian is buzzing in his seat, water drops pooling in the corners of his lips. You kiss them away and you’re glad he doesn’t taste as potent as before, only a diluted remnant of booze. “Good boy,” Julian shudders at the praise. “Can we go now?” He murmurs against your lips, trembling with want. You pull away and beckon him with a finger as you slink out of the booth. He nearly trips climbing out.
“Put it on my tab, Barth!” Julian calls as he takes your hand, tugging you out of the pub.
“You best pay it back this time!”
Julian is panting when you pull him into the cleanest alley you could find. “You follow orders so well, I’m proud.” You shove him against the brick wall and he groans, biting his lip harshly. “W-wait,” he pushes himself up. “I should probably, erm, relieve myself before we continue.” Julian clears his throat, rubbing below his Adam’s apple.
Ah, the water, you think. “I’ll wait.” You back up a few steps and turn away from him. Your ears pick up the sound of rustling clothes and shuffling feet. Then..nothing. Julian huffs and you tap your foot. “You ok back there?” You struggle through the frustrated silence like wading into thick mud. “It’s not coming out.” Julian’s voice wavers, embarrassment coating his throat. “Are you shy?” You stifle a laugh for his sake.
Julian whines and you turn around. “How embarrassing..” he mumbles. “Do you want help?” You turn to face him and he whips his head over his shoulder. “Wh-wha-“ Julian starts to shuffle awkwardly as you approach, hunching his shoulders up to his ears. “Here, let me help you.” You step behind him, pulling his hips back flush against you. “You want the reward, right?”
“Y-yes.”
“Well, we’re wasting time.”
“So, would you accept my help?” You ask, low and breathy, your fingertips rubbing soothing circles over his hips. Julian muffles a groan and nods, quick and flustered. You lean your head against him, peering to his front and reaching your dominant hand around to take hold of his flaccid dick. You splay your other hand over his lower abdomen, right over where his bladder should be. “There we go,”
Julian braces his hands on the wall, circling his gloved fingers over the brick and hangs his head. He bites his lip, face flashing a dozen shades of red as you start pressing on his bladder. “Wh-what a p-peculiar situation..” Julian groans, knees buckling. “Just relax, my love,” your voice fills his head like a dizzying drug, his mouth cotton-dry as you push harder.
Slowly, he relaxes enough for sporadic spurts to drip from him. “Good boy..just a little more..” In some sadistic and flagrant way, it turns you on to see him so vulnerable. Julian’s svelte legs wobble and he nearly keels over just as a steady stream hisses and splatters against dirty stone. “See? That wasn’t so hard, now was it?” You can’t help but tease in a condescendingly sweet way, giving a few pulsed presses onto his bladder. Julian chokes a punctuated moan with each push.
“You- hah, like to see me suffer d-don’t you, darling?” He tries to straighten his spine, though you stop him by pressing against his back, hand still firmly wrapped around the base of his cock. “I thought you wanted me to be mean.” You counter, leisurely stroking his length as it starts to harden.
Blood thrums in Julian’s ears before flooding south and his body feels like it’s been set alight. Perhaps it was lingering embarrassment, though with your soft hands pressed against him, he couldn’t bring himself to care. “I s-suppose I have said th-that.” Julian presses his forehead to the worn brick, furrowing his brows. You push his legs apart with your foot, widening his stance. He presses the soles of his boots flat and sturdy against the ground, bucking his hips into your touch.
After a few more strokes, Julian is throbbing in your hands. You rub your fingers under his frenulum, raising your hand on his bladder up to his chest, pushing the layers of fabric aside to press cold hands to his warm flesh. He shivers, goosebumps rising on his skin. “P-please, my love, do-don’t tease,” Julian pants hotly against the brick, his warm breath heating his face as it flows back at him. “I’ve been g-good haven’t I?”
You thumb over his slit, humming softly against him. “You’re right, this is your reward, after all.” You comply, gripping firm around him and stroking quickly. “O-oh! Yes, dear!” Julian bucks his hips into your hand, bracing himself now with his elbows. “Let’s put that pretty mouth to use, hm?” You move your hand from his chest and push your fingers into his mouth. He eagerly licks around them, seemingly attempting to swallow them down his throat. You suppose when you take him home you’ll entertain the idea of choking him on your fingers more thoroughly.
You dislodge your fingers and cup your hand under his lips. “Spit.” Julian complys eagerly, walking his tongue around his mouth before spitting thick globs of saliva in your waiting palm. You switch your hands and wrap your lubricated palm around him and Julian hisses in delight. “Yesyesyes!”
The pace is kept quick and rough, just how he likes it and you encourage him to fuck into your fist. You give the occasional twist of your palm at the head and Julian moans, loud enough for you to gag him with your fingers again.
“I’m clothe,” he sputters around your fingers, forming a temporary lisp. A laugh bubbles from your throat. “Keep going, Ilya, cum for me.” You shove your fingers deeper down Julian’s throat and he gags wetly, obscenely delicious noises. He rocks into your fist, eyes clenching shut and fast breaths leaving his flared nostrils.
Julian gets sloppy, stuttering thrusts and shaking knees. “Good boy, you can do it, just let go,” you coax him into his release, swallowing thickly at how he keens, stomach clenching as he spills. White paints the rusted red brick in jerky spurts. You pull your fingers from his throat and Julian whimpers, hoarse and pathetic. You tuck him back into his pants and fasten the tasseled ties around his waist for him as he comes down from his high. “Oh, my love,” Julian turns around with some trouble, wrapping his arms around you and tugging you into a kiss.
It doesn’t last long and Julian pulls away breathing heavy and hot against your lips. “I think I discovered something new about myself,” He says after he catches his breath, a dorky smile painting his face and you snort in response.
“Let’s go home, I have more in store for you.”
Been a while (Julian)
Quick low res doodle
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