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nvvermore · 3 years

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Amaryllis and Vissenta surprise each other over and over during a night at the Raven [ @vissenta-senadz ]

words: 2166

cw: drinking

NSFW: (semi?)public sex, manual sex, oral sex, orgasm denial,

accompaniment

—

“I’m going to go get another drink,” Amaryllis rises from their regular booth in the back corner of the Rowdy Raven.

“Are you sure you need another?” Julian taunts, and they’re all too aware of his eyes on them.

“Oh, cause you’re one to talk,” they pull down their veil momentarily, for the express purpose of sticking their tongue out at him. It shuts him up. “I’ll grab you another pint, it’s not like you’re able to walk in a straight line anymore.”

“I can’t do anything straight my darling-“ the rest of his retort is cut off by Amaryllis strutting away and to the bar. The two of them are barely two drinks in— hardly even buzzed at this point. But they do question their sobriety levels for a moment when their eyes catch the sight of a petite brunette at the bar and their heart races. They simply brush it off, but silently admit to themself that they might be a little too intrigued by Vissenta, if they’re doing cliché things like seeing her wherever they go.

But then Amaryllis leans up against the bar, intending to address Barth, when their eyes flirt over said brunette to find it is in fact the exact one they can’t stop thinking about.

“Ma poupée?” Vissenta turns in her seat so fast, Amaryllis is a little worried she might tip out of it and their arms almost reach out to steady her.

“Amie?” She certainly looks particularly surprised to see them here.

“In the flesh,” they grin, close enough to her that surely she can see it through their veil. “What are you doing here, cherié?”

She gestures towards them with her half-empty glass. “It’s been a long day at the shop.”

“Pauvre fille, perhaps you’d like to join me? I have a friend who’d love to meet you.” Amaryllis attempts to flag down Barth, but he merely nods their way before heading into the backroom to fetch a bottle of their regular.

Vissenta blinks. “I- sure, that sounds great.” Amaryllis holds out an elbow, and she stares at them for a moment before sliding off the stool to take it.

“Here you are,” Barth speaks up, uncorking and then sliding a dark red bottle across the bar.

“Already passing off the whole bottle, is that what you think of me, Barth?” The man merely scoffs and rolls his eyes, getting another drink for Julian. He passes off the overfull pint with a friendly wink, and Amaryllis turns and leads Vissenta back to their booth.

“So, you come here often?” she asks, and Amaryllis can’t help but giggle.

“I think we’re past the point of bad pick-up lines.”

“I was asking a question,” she pouts.

“I do, quite often actually,” they crowd her into the booth, where Julian is nowhere to be found. “Have you found yourself in here before now?”

“Yes, a few times. It’s a... cozy little place,” she comments. Amaryllis refills their own glass, and fills up Vissenta’s empty glass too.

“You say ‘cozy’ like it’s a bad thing.”

“No, I just wouldn’t have expected to find you in a place like this.”

“Oh?” Amaryllis’s brow quirks.

“You blend into all the glamour and regality so effortlessly, I never pictured you in a dive bar.” Her eyes run over their form, taking in their outfit, which— when compared to the things she’d seen them in before— was simple. “Or as dressed down as this.”

“Then it may be a surprise to hear that this is my favorite bar.”

“And people don’t mind you here?” she asks, clearly confused as to why anyone from the South End would put up with someone from the royal court. Amaryllis bursts into laughter, amused by the pieces she’s missing from the picture.

“We love them here!” Julian reappears, clapping Amaryllis on the back before sliding back into the opposite booth. “How could anyone around here not welcome such a generous benefactor!”

“Ilya…” they warn with a glare that only encourages his roguish attitude, and turn their head to meet Vissenta’s inquisitive eyes. “I’ve been haunting the South End for much longer than I’ve been in the palace’s employ.”

Julian actually notices Vissenta now, and has the sense to change the subject. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your lovely friend?”

“This is Vissenta-“

“The Vissenta?” he gasps, as if he didn’t already know, from the way Amaryllis has told him all about her. He reaches across the table for her hand, and leans forward to place a kiss on the back of it. “I’m Julian, and what an honor to finally meet you, my dear. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“All bad things, I hope?” Vissenta grins.

“Absolutely deplorable,” he takes a sip of his bitters, “Amaryllis hasn’t talked of anyone but you for weeks now.” They can feel their face heat as Julian exposes them, thankful for the veil covering most of it. Throwing another scalding look at Julian only seems to amuse him further, and he winks their way, despite the eyepatch.

“Oh?” Vissenta turns her eyes on them, “Is that so?”

Julian opens his mouth, and Amaryllis delivers a firm— but ultimately harmless— kick to his shin. “So then, you’re new to the city?” He asks instead of whatever torment he’d planned instead.

Amaryllis sits back, content to listen to Julian and Vissenta chat, sipping on their bitter wine. Vissenta gives him minimal information, but Julian is more than happy to fill in all the blanks with his own wild stories.

Somewhere along the way, Vissenta had rested her hand on their stockinged knee. For a while, she’d just left it there, every so often rubbing circles into their skin. It was comforting, intimate even, and they thought little more of it.

Until the hand starts ghosting up their leg, sliding across nylon to touch the bare skin of their upper thigh. When her fingers meet the slit in their skirt, she continues on and slips her fingers underneath. Amaryllis expects simple teasing, light touches, encouragement for them to whisk her away for the night. But it seems Vissenta has other plans, because her fingers don't stop until she finds them already bare and wet for her. Beside them, she hums as her finger grazes through their folds, pretending to still be fully absorbed in what Julian is saying.

Amaryllis has half a mind to stop her, but they can’t deny— to themself, at least— how incredibly hot this is. Vissenta deciding that she’s going to touch them, and that she can’t even wait until they’re alone to do so. Tucked into the dim back corner of the populated tavern, with Julian looking directly at the two of them while none the wiser. They aren’t all that worried about getting caught, they started sitting here years ago for a reason, after all, and the worst case scenario is Julian catching on.

They have to bite down on their lip, hard, to stifle the moan that threatens to spill out as Vissenta firmly circles their clit. All the while she's chatting away with Julian, seemingly fully engaged in the theatrical anecdote he's telling. She really has no plans to tease, and alongside the intense pleasure they’re uneasy. Vissenta is working them in just the right way, the way she knows quite well will make them come undone in a matter of minutes. They attempt to focus on his tall tale, barely managing to hold back their sounds. But trying to distract from Vissenta’s pointed caresses was useless.

It only takes a few more strokes before Amaryllis is coming against her hand, in the middle of the crowded tavern. They’re got a white knuckled grip on the edge of their seat, and the noise of the bar and Julian’s voice becomes a dull thrum. Amaryllis doesn’t tune back in until Vissenta’s voice cuts through their daze.

“Amie, you doing okay?” she grins, all too satisfied with herself. At some point, she’d pulled her hand out from under their skirt, and— ever so discreetly— pops her fingers into her mouth. “You look a little pale.”

“You know, I haven't eaten much today,” they smooth down their skirt, hoping they hadn’t soaked it in the process.

Julian pauses his story and ungloves his hand, reaching across the table to feel their forehead. “You are a little warm,” he decides.

“I’m fine, Doctor Jules.” Amaryllis half-heartedly bats away his hand. “Perhaps I’ll go get some air.”

“Perhaps, you should eat something.”

They glance at Vissenta. “Oh, I will.”

- - -

Amaryllis only has to wait a few minutes at most, when the alleyway door to the Raven opens and quickly closes, Vissenta appearing before them. With one last drag, they toss aside their cigarette, crushing it under their boot.

“Well that wasn’t very polite,” they comment sarcastically, to a very smug Vissenta.

“You’re the one who taught me all about the advantages of dresses. I was just showcasing what I’ve learned.” She closes the distance between them, her hands sliding around their hips to cup their ass.

“Then, I think I have another lesson for you.” Amaryllis’s hands fall to Vissenta’s, snatching them up and flipping their positions. She moans when her back crashes against the stone wall.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

“And what was it exactly, that you thought so much about, to the point you couldn’t even wait until we were alone?”

“Your mouth…” Amaryllis unlaces her pants, and slowly inches them down.

“What about my mouth?”

“On me, tasting me,” she whines, eyes flitting down to watch Amaryllis get down on their knees and pull down their veil.

“Since you’ve been waiting for so long…” Amaryllis digs their nails into her thighs as Vissenta spreads them further, and they seal their mouth over her cunt.

Amaryllis follows her lead from inside, no teasing tonight, only vigorous lapping and sucking in exactly the way they know will have her keening in a matter of minutes.

Her legs shake, knees threatening to buckle as she grinds into their mouth. One hand is yanking on their hair, hard enough to get them going all over again, and the other is sealed over her mouth, muffling her cries. Amaryllis counts down in their mind, just a few more seconds, and then—

—Amaryllis abruptly gets to their feet, stepping backwards as their eyes rake over her debauched form.

Vissenta cries out, no longer in pleasure but in utter betrayal. Amaryllis licks their lips, collecting what they can of her taste before tugging their veil back up over their face.

“This should teach you not to be so bold as to touch me before you’ve earned it.”

“Fuck, Amie,” she begs, “please, I’m so sorry, I won’t do it ever again, I swear, I’ve learned.”

“Oh, you will learn cherié. And I’m punishing you to make sure.” Vissenta groans in frustration, head falling back against the stone. “I’d tell you that you aren’t allowed to make yourself come, but your own fingers pale in comparison to my mouth.”

In an expected show of complete bratiness— exactly what they were hoping for— Vissenta glares at them and starts to touch herself. With an amused laugh, Amaryllis turns on their heel and re-enters the tavern, Vissenta’s complaints falling on deaf ears.

- - -

It doesn’t take very long for Vissenta to follow Amaryllis back inside either, but instead of cocky, now she's very incredibly displeased. Perhaps it’s not as obvious to anyone else, especially not to Julian, whose lap she's been seated upon as she flirts away with him for the better part of an hour.

Amaryllis knows what she’s trying to do, but what she doesn’t know is that it would never work, not in a million years, and certainly not when it's Julian she’s batting her lashes at. It's cute, how unaware she is. The more unaffected they look, the harder she tries, going as far as to nip at his earlobe when she whispers something that turns him as scarlet as Amaryllis’s hair.

It’s that move that scares him off, and suddenly he’s realized how late it’s gotten, and he needs to get some rest before working all day tomorrow. All of which, Amaryllis knows is bullshit.

“Nothing?” Vissenta asks, indignant, when Julian is out of earshot.

“What?” Amaryllis sips the last of their wine. Vissenta doesn’t answer, just leans back in the booth with a pout. “Were you expecting me to become jealous?” Amaryllis laughs, which only serves to deepen her scowl. “He's the last person in this whole bar I'd be jealous over seeing you with. He's not capable of fulfilling your needs the way I can. In fact,” they rise from their seat to stand in front of Vissenta. Amaryllis grabs her chin, tilting her head up to force her to look at them, and their voice turns into a low murmur. “I'm sure he’d be the perfect example to show you how good sluts are supposed to behave.”

#u know what im posting at ass oclock #deranged #anyways #amaryllis leroux #vissenta senadz #visamie #not quite visamilya #amie fic #spicy #lemon #my fic

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