#will be reflecting on it further as i unwind for the day...

[mihai-florescu]

But truly stanning real life idols is so wild to me... they dont even have a narrative purpose, thats just a person...

[dxxdhood]

take care

pairing: jason todd x gn!reader

summary: when you have a bad day at work, jason knows just the way to help you unwind.

tags: smut (18+), dom!jason todd, sub!reader, fingering, teasing, dirty talk, massages

wc: 2.1k

No matter what you try to tell yourself, you can’t stop crying. Ever since you woke up this morning, it feels like life has been throwing you the worst possible things to deal with– people being casually rude to you, your boss expecting unreasonable amounts of work done. After finally falling into bed, you completely lose it, sobbing so hard your body starts shivering. 

Jason won’t be back for another couple of hours at least, and usually that’s enough time for you to unwind from work, but today you can’t stomach the thought of doing anything. Instead, you slip into sleep while the tears are still fresh on your face. 

There’s a warm pat on your shoulder, and for a second, the bliss of sleep follows you from your nap into reality. But all too soon, you remember the day you’ve had and the tenseness from earlier sinks back into you.

“Hey,” Jason whispers, his hand still resting on your shoulder. “You alright?”

“Yeah– I’m,” You shake your head, stumbling across the half of the blanket that’s made it on the floor as you walk to the bathroom. “I’m just really tired. I’m going to shower, I forgot to earlier.”

You catch Jason’s concerned look from the corner of your eye, but you try not to stress about how you’re worrying him. As soon as the door closes behind you, you grip the bathroom counter and look at your reflection.

You’re so exhausted you look sick, but you don’t want to bother Jason with your own worries right now. When he’s not on patrol, he’s always researching more ways he can stop crime and minimize conflict. Really, he doesn’t have a ton of time of his own to relax, so you really shouldn’t burden him with your feelings. 

After a half-hearted shower, you toss on a T-shirt and shorts before walking towards the living room. Jason’s lounging on the couch, and he waves you over to watch a movie– Pride & Prejudice 2005.

“Oh? What’s the occasion?” You say, trying for cheerful.

“Just thought we could use something familiar,” He says, placing a blanket on top of you before wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

“I’m still going to need you to explain half of what’s going on, I can’t keep up with all the characters.”

“That’s why we’re watching it,” He kisses your cheek. “I just tricked you into listening to me ramble about my favorite book.”

You giggle, and for a second you almost feel light enough to enjoy the moment. You can’t shake the feeling that you’re forgetting something, though, and when it hits you, you nearly kick the blanket off of you.

“Shit! I didn’t make anything for dinner!”

“Hey, hey,” Jason moves his hand to rub the back of your neck. “It’s okay, I got something going in the oven.”

You settle back into your place on the couch, but you feel terrible. It was your turn to make dinner today since you got off your shift first. You can’t believe you let yourself fall asleep instead! Jason doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest, he just cuddles into your side further as you both watch the camera pan around Elizabeth Bennett. 

Suddenly, it hits you. You know how to make up for worrying him and forgetting about dinner. At first, you subtly try and bring your hand under the blanket, feeling around until you find his thigh. When you make contact, Jason gives you a look, trying to gauge whether or not it was intentional. You give him a cheeky smile as you continue.

Jason settles into the couch, just laying back and allowing you to do what you want, still figuring out why you’re suddenly in the mood. You run your nails against the inside of his thigh, lightly at first before digging in just a little, knowing he likes it a little rough.

You finally palm him through his shorts and he lets out a small gasp. His shoulders seem to fall back and you swear you can see some of the tension Jason always carries around leaving him. Carefully, you wrap your hand around his cock, and you lazily stroke him through the fabric as he exhales through his nose. You’re about to crawl under the blanket to take off his shorts when Jason grabs you by the shoulder and pulls you up to face him.

“Alright, that’s enough of that.”

“Huh? Don’t you want me to,” you gesture to his lap instead of letting your words trip you up. “I mean, I just started now, so I should really–”

“What are you talking about?” Jason shakes his head, his fluffy hair shifts with him.

“Look, I–” You massage your forehead, trying to work through some of your anxiety. “I was going to do something for you, Jason, so just let me–”

Jason slides his hand from your shoulder across your arm until he’s supporting your hand, bringing it in so he can kiss your knuckles.

“You’re always doing stuff for me,” He whispers. “Let me return the favor.”

The speed at which you break eye contact and begin fiddling with the blanket speaks volumes to Jason. You gulp as he lowers your hand, careful not to overstep. You know that if you say the word, the two of you can stop and go back to watching the movie in front of you. But still, no matter how much residual stress keeps bothering you, you want to know what Jason has in mind for you.

“Yes,” you say.

“What?” Jason leans in, not having heard you the first time.

“Yeah–” you try to fight against your own embarrassment at accepting the invitation. “I’d like you to… take care of me.”

For a moment, the two of you sit in silence before Jason bursts into giggles. You have the sense to feel offended, but he quickly wraps his arms around you and rests his head on your shoulder.

“God, lighten up, will you? You sound so serious, it’s not that big a deal.”

Immediately you fail at keeping a straight face, and although you really don’t want to give him the win, you end up letting out a snort.

“Alright, come on,” He taps your back. “Lay on your stomach.”

“What’re you doing?” You ask, even though you’re already maneuvering into position, tossing the blanket off the couch in the process.

“Just trust me, okay? Relax, I’ve got you.”

Jason’s hands are warm when they reach your back. You take in a small inhale, not quite sure what you were expecting. He moves his hands softly at first, just stroking the skin of your back and shoulders to get you accustomed to the feeling. As soon as you start getting comfortable, he starts applying the slightest bit of pressure, kneading at your shoulder muscles.

A sound escapes you that you’re not proud of, and though you’re certain Jason is smirking, you refuse to turn around and see it. Sighing into the couch cushions, you close your eyes and let yourself fade into the feeling. Jason moves downward, massaging your back in slow motions, carefully running his knuckle down the small of your back. It’s incredible, more than, but it doesn’t feel like nearly enough.

“You can press harder, you know.”

He huffs, “See, I was thinking that, but if I hurt you right now I don’t think I’d be able to forgive myself.”

Jason has a talent for saying things like that, things that make you melt no matter what’s running through your head. To his credit, he tries, kneading out all the knots across your back, but still with lighter pressure than you would’ve given to yourself.

“Is that alright?” He asks. “You want me to keep going?”

You hum, already starting to sink into the feeling. Jason continues, hands roaming all across your back. Your eyes start to close and you can feel yourself slipping into sleep before a hand starts to move down your body, gently feeling up your ass.

“Okay?” Jason says.

“Okay–” and as soon as you respond, he kneads the sore muscles in your upper thighs and ass, and although it causes a part of you to completely melt into the cushions, a part of you feels like you’ve just had a fire lit within you.

“Jason,” you start. “If you keep going, I might… uh–”

“No, you can say it,” he whispers as he leans in, covering your body with his own so you can feel his breath across your cheek. “Tell me what I do to you.”

“Shit–” you bury your head into the couch, but Jason carefully sets hand on your head and helps you make eye contact with him. 

“Talk to me,” his voice drops low. “I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me.”

He places a hand on top of one of yours resting in front of you. You flip your hand over and interlock your fingers with his. A barely audible exhale escapes from Jason as he gives your hand a squeeze.

“I want you to finger me.”

He’s smirking as he kisses your cheek, his lips trailing lower to your jawline before you even have time to register his movements. It’s like a switch has flipped in him, like he’s finally allowing himself to let loose for your sake. Like all he ever wants is to make you feel good if only you’ll allow him to.

The hand not holding yours moves from your ass to your inner thigh, softly rubbing circles only centimeters away from your slit. He catches you closing your eyes again, getting lost in the comfort around you and he gives your upper thigh a pinch. 

You give a small shout, and Jason uses the opening to slot two fingers in your mouth. He doesn’t even need to give the command, you’re already sucking him on instinct. Always efficient, Jason unclasps your hands to reach for the lube in the side table drawer while you’re distracted. He pulls his fingers from your mouth with a pop.

“Are you ready, baby?” 

“Because I can keep going if you’re not ready–” he pretends, as if he didn’t have a perfect view of your signal.

You nod, but your head is still mostly shoved against the surface of the couch.

“Jason! Fucking go!”

He snickers as lubes his fingers before gently working one in. How typical, even when he’s being nice, he still can’t help but be a tease. His pace is slow but thorough, working himself all the way into your heat before sliding out, only to rush back whenever you seem to get used to the sensation. 

Already being relaxed from the massage must be getting to you, because as soon as you stretch to accommodate his second finger, your breathing starts to quicken. He speeds up slightly, moving to kiss the spot between your jaw and neck, nibbling a small mark despite knowing it’s in the perfect spot to be seen.

He finally starts hitting the spot inside of you where he’s needed, and you almost yelp in relief.

“Faster,” you sigh, and gratefully, Jason listens. He quickens his pace, hitting inside of you with accuracy, and leaning on top of you now to better the angle. You can feel the planes of his chest against your back, and the warmth radiating off of him causes your face to heat up.

“Ah–” you start, and Jason is able to get it out before you can.

“You’re close?” 

This time when you nod your head, he accepts your answer and continues the same speed and intensity. He uses his other hand to grip you by the shoulder and force your head up so he can hear your gasps. Jason moves his head close to your ear again, and you can hear the smile in his voice when he whispers, “Come for me.”

You groan, naturally wanting to bury your cries into the cushions, but Jason’s grip stops you. The casual show of his strength has you thrusting back towards his fingers, and he dutifully works you through your orgasm until you’re finished.

He flips you so you don’t end up falling asleep with your airflow cut off, and under his observant gaze you finally stop trying to cover yourself up. You flash your teeth, and Jason rubs the curve of your cheek with his thumb before slipping off the couch to get a towel to clean up.

[taintandviolent]

Bitchin' ; Peter Maximoff x rollerskater!reader

summary: You always wear your silver rollerskates. But, when Peter Maximoff decides to check out the roller rink's arcade, and spots you... It's fate. At least, Peter thinks so. word count: 4.2K words! w a r n i n g s: brief use of Y/N, shameless smut, smut without plot, public fingering, public handjobs, dry humping, kissing, neck kissing. a/n: requested - I lost the original ask but the anon wanted a rollerskating reader who Peter was obsessed with! Honestly, this is my very first Peter fic so if there's anything that isn't in character or canon please mind your business and pretend you do not see it.

full fic & taglist under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! /

The disco ball twirled above, casting little squares of light over all the skaters like pieces of confetti. You grooved to the music while carefully maintaining your balance. The rink was buzzing with celebration; at least three birthdays amongst other parties were being held there.To you, it was merely another Saturday night. Skating had become more or less a therapeutic activity for you; it was a way to unwind after the day. The stresses floated away behind you as you circled the rink. Thankfully, it was also aerobic in nature, so you were getting your daily exercise in as you decompressed. Not to mention, it was funner than hell.

So, this wasn’t Peter’s usual hangout. But, the rink had a Centipede and a Dig Dug machine, so why not? The light from the machines blinked, reflecting off his eyes. New highscores were easily beaten when the bar was set so low. Come on! Did they even try!? 

To his right, he heard a cacophony of giggles and chattering as a cluster of young girls sped his way, their hands full of drinks. To avoid a collision, Peter was forced to turn around, making way for the girls as they passed. And as he did, two flashes of silver caught his eye. 

Those same two flashes of silver zipped around the rink, catching the neon lights from above. Peter’s dark eyes followed them as they circled and eventually, trailed up the shapely legs that they were attached to. You had a bangin’ body, that much was evident. He watched you as you skated around and around, your legs weaving in and out of each other with skill. You weren’t hugging the perimeter, scared like some of the other girls. You were confident, and in your own, bodacious skating world.

Nah, he thought. No way. But… What if fate is totally intervening, dude? What are the chances that I clock a girl with silver roller skates if it wasn’t meant to be? C’mon… 

As his thoughts raced, you veered off from the throngs of skaters, heading towards the wall near the tables. Chalking it up to destiny, Peter couldn’t argue with himself any further. It was now or never. The moment to strike, the moment to make his move…was right now. 

Your skates hit the wall with a thunk-thunk. Your drink was right where you left it, and still cold enough to sweat. As you sipped, you spotted a guy on a mission, making his way in your direction, maneuvering through people as they passed him. Silver hair? Silver… everything, really. Interesting coincidence. You turned around, unsure, but nobody else was seemingly aware of him. So, you weren’t mistaken, he was headed straight for you. 

Once he got to you, he said two words. Two words.

“Bitchin’ skates.” 

That same dorky smile that he wore as he made his way over to you was still plastered on his face as he stood in front of you now. The same one that, contrary to his probable assumption, you weren’t turned off by. Quite the opposite; you thought it was adorable, endearing even. 

“Uhh…” You brought the plastic straw to your lips, buying yourself time. You sucked in a mouthful of soda, raising your eyebrows at him and he raised his back, grinning inwardly. Something about you had clearly caught his attention; he wasn’t leaving. Unfortunately for him, you were ten kinds of anxious and fourteen kinds of nervous when it came to talking to guys. You leaned over the wall, looking at his feet; a pair of silver shoes. You gulped down more soda, and pulled the straw from your lips.

“Don’t judge a book by its cover, babe. Just cause I’m not skatin’ doesn’t mean I’m uncool.” 

You sniggered, rocking back and forth on your skates. You set the soda down on the same table you retrieved it from and gave him your undivided attention. Even though you hadn’t really thanked him for the compliment, it didn’t matter, he wasn’t deterred. “So uh…” He leaned in, angling his face towards yours. Your gaze flitted to his lips for a nano-second, before you darted back up to his eyes. “My name’s Peter.” 

He’d clearly expected you to tell him your name, but you remained silent, clamming up at the very heavy flirtation that he was laying on you. Had you really just forgotten your own name? Clearing his throat, Peter inched closer still, now practically leaning over the wall that separated the rink from the dining area. 

“You come here often, nameless cutie?” Okay… that was cheesy. Too fast for you to notice, he rolled his eyes, silently chastising himself. Much to his delight though, you didn’t skate off, laughing hysterically, shucking him off like some idiot on the school yard. You stuck around and gave him a cutesy, coy little nod that went straight between his legs. 

“Yeah… I do. Every Saturday night. Um… My name’s Y/N.” 

“Guess I need to start comin’ around on Saturday nights…” 

“Why’s that?” You questioned, pumping the straw in and out of the lid, the plastic creaking with the action. You knew the answer. You were willingly lining him up for a compliment that you’d let land real nicely. “Hm?” 

“Well…” He shifted his weight, leaning his elbow on the railing. “Clearly all the babes come through on Saturday nights. Case in point.” He gestured to you with a nod of his head. 

“Thanks,” you muttered to the floor. Some people scooted around you, bracing themselves on the wall. New skater, obviously. Peter paid them no attention; his gaze was iron-locked on you. 

“For the compliment on your skates or that absolutely bogus pick-up line I just tried?” 

You couldn’t help but laugh, feeling a blush crawling up your neck. “Both… actually. Silver has always been my favourite colour.”

Now Peter was the one blushing. “Was that a… compliment? Or uh…” 

“Could be.” 

“Could be?” 

“Yeah.” 

“What do I gotta’ do to make it one?” 

You considered this. Really, he didn’t have to do anything more than what he’d already done. He was silvery and ultra-cute, and the way his lips curved up into a smile every time he looked at you had your knees turning to Jell-o. Plus, he was wearing a RUSH shirt. RUSH was cool. 

“Skate with me.” 

Say less, he thought. Before you had a chance to process it, Peter raced over to the rental counter, coming to a halt just before the swinging door. The girl behind it was too involved in a fashion magazine to attend to him - and if he was polite enough to wait, the speed at which she was gonna’ move would’ve been excruciating. Peter snatched a pair of skates in his size, tucked his shoes in one of the empty cubby holes and took off back towards you. You had just barely finished blinking by the time he was sitting at your table, arms folded on the railing.

When you opened your eyes, he was sitting instead of standing. You furrowed your brows and peeked over the wall. He was laced up, ready to go.

“How did you…” 

You knew. Even though he hadn’t disclosed it and you hadn’t really seen him move, you knew. You’d heard about mutants, but the thought never captivated you enough to look too deeply into it. To you, they were just regular people – well, not regular people – but people all the same. People with lives, people with feelings. 

But this guy… this guy was really cool.

“Well, come o–” 

Again, before you’d even finished blinking, he was in front of you, cheesing. “You were saying?”

You weren’t sure how else to acknowledge his power, so you’d do it honestly. You nodded once and said: “Bitchin’.” 

“Bitchin’,” he affirmed. “Bitchin’.” 

You dipped forward, reaching for his fingers. His large hand was warm and inviting, and immediately enveloped yours. For a moment, the two of you didn’t move. The second he laced his fingers in between yours, your arm went numb, buzzing with electricity. You weren’t sure whether or not that was a part of his mutantness, or just… your own body responding to this very cute guy touching you. Probably the latter, but you weren’t about to sever the connection to discuss it. 

Peter looked flushed, but masked it with a charming smile and a quirked silver eyebrow.

“Oh, we’re holdin’ hands now?” 

“Well, yeah,” you started, dismissing it as though it was the most normal thing in the world. You beamed, flashing him a smile before pulling him into the flow of skaters. It was hard to imagine that you, with your utterly awkward sense of self, had suddenly taken the lead and were now in control of the situation. “You know how to skate?” 

“Uh… sorta.”

“Well, here.” You spun around, now skating backwards. You held out your free hand, wiggling your fingers towards his. Peter did a double-take – was he really going to be holding both your hands? No questions asked? His already-fast heart thudded in his chest. This was too easy. Fate, man. It’s fate. 

“Come on, don’t be shy. You had enough confidence to come up to me earlier… don’t back out now.” 

“Wha-?! I’m so not!” He looked offended. You couldn’t help but laugh at that, and grabbed his hand at the wrist, pulling him closer to your body. You then noticed that his knees were locked in true beginner form. He looked stiff and slightly unsure. 

“Relax, baby…” You cooed, coaxing him through the motions. “Just move with the groove…”

Slowly, Peter’s dilated eyes crawled up from his skates to yours, and up your divine lookin’ legs. They made their way up your torso before finally coming to a stop on your face. Inside, his heart was hammering against his ribs. Had you just called him baby? Baby? Hoh’ boy… 

Peter composed himself from the impromptu melting you’d caused, he straightened up, relaxing his knees to push into the skates. As the two of you had abruptly picked up speed, you glanced behind you to make sure you weren’t going to run into anyone. Thankfully, he seemed to be navigating pretty masterfully. Peter had his bearings. In fact, thanks to his quick reflexes, he’d gotten his bearings approximately seventeen seconds ago, but you didn’t need to know that. That might’ve prevented the absolutely stellar physical contact he was experiencing now. 

“Yeaaaaaahaaah, Peter! Just like that.” You cheered him on, happy to see that he was loosening up and moving in a much more natural way. For Peter, your smooth voice was doing wonders… but in the wrong way. Or the right way. No. Right way for the wrong situation. Okay, so what? Your syrupy, praising voice was going straight to his crotch. 

“Hey, can we uh… Can we go faster?” He asked. You nodded, preparing yourself to take the lead, but before you could make the necessary changes in speed, Peter spun you around, snaking his arms around you from behind, hands resting gingerly on your abdomen, just above your hips. It was a risky move, he knew it, but it just felt so right to do… and after a few seconds, waiting on bated breath, no protests fell from your lips.You weren’t about to shoo him off, not with the way his grip was sending shivers up and down your spine.  

“Ready?”

You nodded, though you weren’t sure what you were agreeing to. He continued moving his feet, skating them back and forth. With a quick motion that pressed his chest into your back, Peter took off, narrowly avoiding some dude in neon dolphin shorts. He pushed you, navigating both your bodies around the rink at record breaking speeds, speeds so fast that nobody else even registered you two moving. Around you, people were still moving, but slowly. So slowly. You were nothing but fluffs of air as you passed them. It was terrifying; you’d never moved that fast on roller skates in your life. 

After a few laps, you gripped his veiny forearms pressing them tight against your hips. “Okay! Okay!” 

Peter tipped his toes, letting the stops drag against the polished linoleum floors. You two slowed down abruptly until you were back in sync with the rest of the rink’s patrons. Your hair was wind-blown, tousled locks fluttering back into place. 

“You okay?”

“Oh my god,” you breathed. “That was…” 

“Wicked?” 

“Y-yeah.” You swallowed, wetting your throat. You had some other choice words, but you weren’t about to crush his spirit. His toned chest was rising and falling into your back, and for a second, you leaned your head backwards onto his shoulder. You caught yourself in that embarrassing moment of weakness and jerked your head forward again. “S-sor–”

As quickly as you two had stopped, Peter pivoted you on your skates, and crushed his lips against yours, pressing into them tightly. His lips were warm and melted into yours, but the shock of the kiss had you frozen. After a few painstaking seconds, he pulled away, a look of terror plastered on his face. His eyes searched yours, desperately. 

“Shoot… Did I totally misread that?” 

You licked the remnants of him off your lips, humming in satisfaction. “No… no you didn’t.” 

Peter bounced on his heels, nodded, and glanced at your lips again, wanting so desperately to be back against them, but he’d play it cool, and wait for you to make the next move. 

“Peter, I um… think you’re really cute. But next time… can you give me a warning when we’re gonna’ go hyperspeed?” 

“Next time?” He chuckled low, rubbing the back of his neck. He liked the implications that there’d be a next time. “Y-yeah, sure, babe.”

Silence fell between you two, and while neither of you spoke, a lot was being said. The way he gazed into your eyes, the way that you gazed back… that was the thing about chemistry. It found its way in, no matter how quiet you were. Your heart fluttered in your chest, your stomach muscles tightening instinctively as you looked at him. Peter’s strong hand flexed on yours, gripping your fingers and yanking them towards him. The stops on your skates bumped into his, knocking him backwards slightly. 

“Peter...” you started, nervously chewing on the inside of your cheek. 

“Yeah?” Bless him. The eager, almost desperate look in his dark brown eyes told you he was ready for whatever you were gonna’ throw his way. Preferably, another heated kiss. 

You wanted to, desperately, but swallowed that fiery urge, suddenly hyper-aware of the people zipping around you. At  present, no one was tossing insults your way, but if you two lingered on the rink any longer without skating, you suspected they would. Nervously, you chewed your lip. “We should probably um - get off the rink...”

He agreed with an excited but wordless nod, and towed you in the direction of the opening. Adjusting to the feeling of carpet beneath your feet, you moved behind him, thankful for his hand.

As you passed the video games, both of you stopped in front of one of the party rooms. This one, unlike the others, was off to the side, and dark. Inside, there was nothing but a table with some chairs, and a few leftover party decorations pinned to the walls. Both you and Peter stared at the empty room.

“Are you thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?” 

“I dunno. Just what exactly are you thinkin, Peter?” 

He smirked.

By the time you’d exhaled, Peter had twisted the handle, tugged you inside, and pressed your back gently against the door, shutting it. He hovered over you, face inches from yours, looking down at you with a wanton, heated gaze. With one hand flattened against the wall by your head, Peter flexed the muscles in his forearm, showing off just slightly. 

“Hey,” you said, gazing up into his dark, inky pools. 

“Hey back.”

You wasted no time in kissing him. This time though, you went at him with parted lips, exhaling over his lips. Peter moaned softly into your mouth, overcome by your scent and taste. Everything about you was unreal; from the way that you tilted your head to get close to him to the way that your fingers clawed at the front of his jeans, desperately hooking into his belt loops to pull him closer to your own hips. Coming up to you was the best decision he’d made in weeks. Maybe months. Maybe even friggin’ years. 

Peter’s tongue swirled around yours, pausing to pepper softer kisses on your plush lips every few seconds. “Mmmm-hm…” Another eager kiss. “Babe, you’re totally…”

“What, bitchin’?” You finished for him, teasing.That had been the word of the night, seemingly. 

In response, Peter kissed you again, pulling you in at the waist. He rutted his hips against you desperately, grinding his half-hard cock into your groin, hungrily seeking out friction. At the whisper of his powerful thrust, you paused, flattening both hands on his chest. 

“Wait, lemme take off my skates,” you started. “I don’t want to fall…”

“If you do, I’ll catch ya’. Promise.” 

The confident lilt in his voice was enough to make you trust him, or maybe it was the way that he completely wiped your stream of consciousness by brushing the bridge of his nose against the nape of your neck, peppering tiny kisses along the feverish flesh. 

Peter bucked his hips against you again, forcing himself against your fingertips, pressing them into the denim. You took his enthusiastic dry humping as a green light, and unbuttoned his pants. You followed with the zipper, and you heard Peter mutter something under his breath. Whatever it was, it sounded massively excited. 

“What was that?” You asked, coyly.

You wrestled with his jeans, fingers exploring deeper, slipping through a bush of silver and  ventured further down, stopping only to take hold of his cock at the base. It was hot to the touch, and now, rock hard. Really…. You thought, smirking to yourself. His interest in you wasn’t superficial, this dude really wanted you. You gripped a little harder, watching intently as the muscles in his jaw feathered and clenched. 

“I said uh, um… it was… Hoh’, babe…” You started stroking and Peter’s head lolled back between his shoulders, a broken moan hitching in his throat. “Hoh’ my god…” 

You kept stroking him, your thumb massaging the veiny underside of his swollen cock. Every pass of your fingers brought another breathy whimper from deep within his throat, and your core tightened further. He was putty in your hands, desperate, whining and begging for more. 

“Just like that, babe…” He bucked his hips rhythmically and brought his other hand to the door, bracing himself. 

“Want me to go faster?” 

He looked at you, quirking a brow as if to say, “Really?”

So you did. It took all of three seconds for Peter to start quivering above you, almost vibrating. Peter dropped one hand, his thick fingers dragging across the ruched elastic of your shorts, pads fluidly slipping over the satin fabric. 

“Can I…” He paused, clearing his throat. “Can I touch her?” 

You loved that he called her her. Cute. You exhaled a moan through your nose and bit down on the corner of your lip. Meeting his gaze again, you nodded excitedly. Peter’s hand pressed against your stomach and dove downwards, slipping over the front of your shorts. At first, he stroked her from the outside, feeling the warmth that radiated from between your folds. But he moved fast, in all ways, and soon, he craved a different sensation. Quickly finding the waistband of your shorts again, he dipped inside to find the hem of your underwear, pausing only to run his finger along it, before slipping past it.

“Ohhhh…” He groaned, feeling the blistering heat of your cunt, and the beginnings of the pre-cum that had made its way up to your folds. “Oh, okay. Silver really is your favourite color.” 

You laughed into his neck, walking your feet out slightly to spread your cunt for him. His fingers grazed your clit, circling it delicately a few times before he moved to your slit, manipulating the wetness that greeted him and coated his fingers. Peter inserted his middle finger, pumping it in and out carefully a few times. You moaned through closed lips, a weak attempt at muffling the sounds, should anyone hear.

“Wanna’ see something cool?” 

You, breathless and starting to sweat, nodded. 

“Fffuck, you’re so wet… uh, sorry - okay. Prepare to be wowed.” He hoped. At least, he was fairly certain that you’d never experienced what he was about to do. 

Half a second passed. Then Peter’s finger slid in and out of you so fast it almost felt mechanical, drilling into you at inhuman speeds. Your jaw dropped, pupils dilating. He wasn’t joking – but maybe selling himself short. You were a little more than wowed.

Abruptly, you pressed your ass against the door, pulling his slippery fingers from you. “St-stop, I’m gonna’ c-cum if you keep doing that.” Shocked at your honesty, you felt your face flush. 

“Oh?” He slipped another finger in, murmuring happily at the way your slick walls clenched around them. Peter brought his thumb forward so that with every pump of his fingers, the pad of his thumb bumped into your puffy, tender clit. You couldn’t help but whine then, the dual-stimulation overwhelming your senses. 

He continued, winding the coil in your tummy tighter and tighter. You moved into him just a little bit closer, plunging him in just a little bit deeper and wrapped your free arm around his broad shoulders, desperate to bring your bodies tighter together. Although his hand enveloped your pussy, you could feel the repeated grind of your own hand as you jacked him off. 

Peter continued, mercilessly, delighted that he had you coming undone in front of him. Sweat streamed down your neck, winding its way down into your cleavage – which, by the way, he was absolutely devastated he couldn’t see. His gaze was locked on your tits then, watching as they rose and fell with each laboured breath you took. Suddenly, your hand went slack around his dick. You focused on nothing in particular as white hot flashes darted across your vision. Peter groaned into your neck as you came around his fingers, warm, wet… 

Your knees buckled, the wheels of your skates rolling forward. Just as he promised, Peter caught you strongly with his free arm, and pinned you against the door with a soft thud. You gasped, gripping him hard, pleasuring him with a new found fervour. You stroked his cock with long, deliberate strokes, paying special attention to his reddened head. Pre-cum, lots of it, leaked from the slit, and you eagerly spread it until his whole cock was slippery. Peter squirmed against your body, his fingers still slipping in and out of you at high-speed. 

“I’m gonna’... I’m gonna’....” 

“Oh, so you cum fast too?” 

Your teasing was all it took for Peter to lose it. Every muscle in his body clenched, his eyes rolled back as his dick spurted sticky, white ropes over your hand and into the fibres of his jeans. You loosened your grip, letting the natural throb of his cock bump into your stomach, leaking against your skin.  

Knock. Knock. 

In a nanosecond, Peter had both of your appearances returned to normal as though a mutual jerk-off session hadn’t just happened. But ohhhhhh, it had. It definitely had. Even though the boner had totally faded, his cock still felt like it was throbbing. He laced his fingers with yours, and threw open the door, pretending to search for the light switch.

“Hey, this room is off-limits…” The girl said, looking slightly annoyed. Peter recognized her; the same one from the rental booth. Guess she finally had to make her rounds. 

“We were just – “ you stammered, trying to find a feasible excuse. 

“Checking out the room for a party.” Peter interjected. “Is food provided?” 

The girl seemed taken aback by such a simple question. “Uh… y-yeah. We do pizza or hot dogs.” 

“Sick, thanks.” 

With that, Peter yanked you from the room, skating back towards the arcade machines. You looked out towards the rink; it had slowed down substantially, and likely, would close soon. Time had flown while you were in there with him. 

Once you two had stopped, you turned to him, running a single finger down the front of his shirt. It was still damp and warm with his sweat. A small smile curled its way onto your pink lips. 

“You got a pen?” 

Thwip. Thwip. He was back, fingers wrapped around a blue pen, which he held out to you proudly. With a satisfied smile, you took his hand, flipped it over, and wrote your number on the inside of his palm, near the meat of his thumb.

“Call me?”

“Yeah, maybe.” Not maybe. He was for sure gonna’ call you. He’d call you the second he got home – well, no. Maybe not because he’d get home way before you. But. He shook his head slightly, dislodging the distraction.

If Peter had his way, he’d bust his next nut inside of you.

t a g l i s t : @kaismanwich / @garykingz / @elsamars / @silverzoomies / @tatesdisasterofalover / @thewolveswithin / @80strashbag / @twinkiemaximoff / @spill-the-t / @stucktothetwo / @enchanting-evan / @yesdevineruler / @anonymous0316 / @eventually27 / @my-own-walker / @kai-slut / @demxnicprxncess / @fuckedbykai / @iluwmycats / @dewberryobssesed / @the-goblin1 / @dirtyfairy97 / @jellyluvr / @strangerthings420 / @kai-anderson-whore / @babygorewhore / @quickandsilvers / @tatelangdonsweater / @ifeeltoofuckingmuch / @howtobesasha / @randominstake / @throwinginmythai / @slvt4jamesmarch / @poltoreveur / @feefymo / @evpeters87 / @lacucarachapisser

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[littlemissmiller]

Bird in a Cage

Part 3: His Perfect Girl

Pairing: dark!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

Summary: After your photoshoot, President Snow prepares you a bath and you get ready for dinner. With the help of the bath, some wine, and some special chocolates, you’re feeling for him have seemingly changed…

Warning: 21+ (drinking), smut, choking, oral (f!receiving) , nicknames (baby, good girl), semi-rough sex, use of aphrodisiacs, dark themes, toxic themes, obsession, stalking, possesjsion, kidnapping

A/N: hiiiii! I’m back! i know it’s been a while and i apologize it’s been a rough August/end of July, but I’m back, I’m better than ever (hopefully…) work has been killer (I’m just a lil ole tech at a hospital y’all) and i had some personal life problems…so i hope you enjoy this, i was planning on finishing Summer Highs by the end of August but we shall see. Thanks to all who have continued to support me and this account i appreciate it greatly. Much much love ♥︎

Series Masterlist

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After you finish up the photoshoot, you’re whisked away to your bedroom. As you enter, the aroma of rose petals and chamomile fills the air. It’s hot and steamy and you peak into the bathroom as you walk in. You look around the room and on top of the bed sits a rose gold, silk robe and another letter. Only ce the maid closes the door you pick up the letter and read it.

My dear,

I was able to see the photos from today. You are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid eyes on. Absolutely stunning. You will look just as beautiful at dinner, I’m sure. Freshen up. Your bath is ready.

- C.S.

You sigh and once again remember that he can see you. You take a deep breath, the enchanting scent of the room flooding your senses. He wasn’t wrong. After sleeping on the floor all night, then modeling all day, you did feel sore in places. You take the robe and waltz into the bathroom. The porcelain tub is steaming and the water is littered with rose petals. Next to it, a small table, with a flute of champagne and three chocolates wrapped in gold foil. You test the temperature with your hand. The warmth is so inviting, you can’t resist. He’s even laid out a towel for you at the edge of the bath and had candles lit. It’s romantic in a way.

You strip off your dress, letting it fall to the ground and sink in. You submerge into the hot water and let out a soft sigh. It envelops you like a warm blanket, unwinding your knots, aches, and pains. You feel an immense wave of relaxation wash over you. You pick up the flute of champagne and sip. The bubbles dance on your lip and down your throat. It’s delicious, delicate, and lulls you further into a calm state of mind. The warmth of the tub encompasses you, melts your thoughts away. Maybe you could get used to things here for a bit.

Maybe this isn’t so bad

You think to yourself and your mind drifts off to President Snow of all people. You take another deep breath in and reflect on lunch. You’re torn. For the first time since being here, you feel like you’re noticing how handsome he is in person. You had seen him in pictures and on TV counetless times, always admiring the handsome young blonde. Before the gala, it was fair to say you were attracted to him, how could you not. He was one of the most handsome men in all of Panem and for most people completely unattainable. Yet, being his prisoner had put a slight bad taste in your mouth about him, an eerie feeling you can’t seem to shake.

The bath is helping however, and it’s hard to feel that sense of unease, when the water is so comfortable. You bite your lip, letting out a long sigh. Soon you would be with him, accompanying him at dinner. But now the thought of it doesn’t sound so bad. A nice meal, some wine, it truly sounds inviting. You take another sip of champagne and start to feel the buzz. You haven’t been this pampered in a while, despite your modeling career.

After a few more minutes soaking in the tub, you get out, take the towel, and wrap it around your body. Once you're dried off you put the robe on. When you exit your room you nearly forget he can watch you, but you seem to care as much. You had finished your champagne and was not just tipsy, but drunk off the aromas and warmth of your bath.

When you walk back into the bedroom there is a new outfit on your bed. It’s your dress. The red dress from the night of the gala. It’s an elegant red silk, with an across the shoulder cut and a slit that stops at your upper thigh. A pair of black heels lay at the foot of the bed and you recognize them as the same ones from that night as well. Along with the dress, he has given you a new accessory. A heavy, thick, silver, chain necklace. It’s intimidating, but nonetheless you take it back into the bathroom and change. You take time to also fix up your hair and makeup, despite having little tools to make your hair look nice. Once you feel you look your absolute best, you exit the bathroom and knock on the door. The maid opens it up, smiles and escorts you out of the room, along with the guards. They lead you back to the dining room this morning, where Coriolanus is looking out the window, sipping on a glass of red wine. The maid shuts the door and he turns around. He’s changed since you’ve last seen him. He now stands before you in a pair of dark, blood red slacks, and vest on top of his crisp white button up. He smiles and walks over to you, his black dress shoes creating an echo in the room.

“Hello my dear, you look incredible.”

“Thank you, President Snow.”

“Please, come sit” he gestures to the dining table.

You obey and take a seat.

“How was your bath?”

“Very nice. I haven’t felt that relaxed in a while.”

“Is that so? I would think a women in your career would have that sort of pampering in her schedule red” He remarks

“Not necessarily. That’s all things they expect me to do in my own time and that’s not always easy. Especially when the Capitol is always having a new trend to keep up with.”

“You can tell me twice, our citizens seem to change their mind about what’s popular quite often. It makes planning for the games challenging in some ways.”

“Because they want a good show?”

“Exactly, my smart girl”

Your core can’t help but burn slightly at the nickname and you bite your lower lip without meaning to. He smirks at your actions and pours you a glass of wine. You take it from him and take a sip.

“You like that don’t you. Being called my smart girl…”

“I-I don’t unwelcome it…”

“Good. I’ll keep that in mind. Tell me? Did you enjoy the photoshoot as well?”

“I did. I’ve always enjoyed modeling, despite how taxing the hours can be.”

“I’m glad. You truly did look stunning in those photos. I’ll make sure you see them tomorrow.”

You nod your head and take another sip of wine.

“You smell wonderful by the way. There’s more of that to come. Just so you know.”

“More baths?”

“More everything. Baths, clothes, pampering, and…” he holds out his hand, expecting you to take it. You do, without hesitation this time.

“Being treated like the gorgeous creature you are” he kisses your knuckles

“Can I ask you a question?”

He tilts his head and anticipates your response.

“You said you had something for me. If today went well”

“Ah! I do! I’ll show you after dinner” he kisses your knuckles again, smiling.

There is a brief moment of silence, before two avoxes come out with a charcuterie board and two plates. Coriolanus once again pays them no mind as they serve you, leaving a set of plates as well. You go to thank them, but he squeezes your hand.

“That’s not necessary, my dear” he kisses your hand one last time, before releasing it.

You nod to show you understand, then take some cheese and cured meat from the board.

“So what’s after dinner?”

“I thought a night walk would be nice. Get some fresh air then I’ll be taking you to my chambers.”

“To your bedroom?”

“Mhmm” he nods taking some cheese and crackers “and if you want, you can stay with me in my bed tonight…would you like that?”

“T-to sleep with you.”

He nods and smiles.

“Just sleep?”

“If that’s all you want…”

You nervously sip your wine, to afraid to answer. You look away for a moment then look back. He’s still anticipating your response, a curious look spread across his face.

“What do you want?”

He smiles and reaches for your hand again. You takes it and he squeezed it.

“My dear, I want whatever you want. If you want me to bed you properly, I will…”

“But my wants aside, what do you truly have in mind…”

He pauses for a moment, kisses your knuckles, before releasing your hand, taking another bite of cheese, and swallowing it with his wine. He leans back and eyes your body.

“You truly wish to know…”

You nod vigorously.

“Well a beautiful woman such as yourself deserves to be shown how beautiful you are. And not just with nice clothes and a hot bath.” He smirks

“With what then?” You ask

“Let me ask you, when’s the last time you slept with a man?”

You feel a slow heat creep up your face. How could he be so bold and brash towards you? Then again this is President Snow.

“I-well…it’s been a while.”

“Longer than a year?”

“Less than.”

“Did he make you shake, tremble? Make you forget your own name and replace it with his?”

“N-n-no, President Snow”

“Ever?”

“No. I’ve never had a man do that to me. Usually I…” you start, his inquisitive gaze stopping your thoughts.

“Go on” he encourages

“I usually don’t focus on my own pleasure and neither does the other person”

“Is that so?” He grins

You nod anxiously, tucking a hair behind your ear.

“Would you like that? If a man made sure you felt satisfied?”

You shift in your seat. The heat starts to rise from in between your legs and the handsome young face of the president is now ever more apparent. A gentle smirk lays across his face, as if he’s back to being a school boy who answered the professor’s question right over everyone else. The type of look that puts you right in your place. You bite your lip and glance down for a moment. You shift in your seat again, hiding your emotions behind your wine glass.

“Look at you. You do, don’t you? You’ve never been properly touched by a man. They take from you and never give. I don’t like to take things without giving back. Especially when it comes to my need to please a woman such as yourself.”

“I-I just always felt like that’s how it goes.” You admit

“Maybe for the boys you’ve been with. Most men want to make sure their women are good and satisfied. A man like myself, that’s what I love most. I crave it to a degree.” He explains

“So I take it you’ve satisfied many women in Panem?”

“I’ve been known to. Part of why my staff wants me to find a wife. And I’ll admit, I would like to find someone to have as my own. Have you ever been in love?”

You’re once again taken back by his boldness, sipping your wine before answering.

“Once, a few years ago…” you whisper tentatively.

“And not even he treated you how you deserve?”

“No, that’s why we broke up. Because I felt neglected and he didn’t see a problem.”

You look directly at the handsome blonde, and he peers at you, mouth slightly agape, as if he had been horribly offended. His breath hitches as he downs the last of his wine furiously. He sets the glass down and pours himself another.

“I promise, as long as you’re in my care, I won’t neglect you like that. You’ll never feel like that if you become my First Lady. Ever. Do you understand?”

“Yes, President Snow”

You and him move past the topic and into polite conversation. He asks you about how you got into modeling, what you like about it, what you hate. He seems interested in you and your life, nodding along and continuing to sip his wine. Eventually, dinner is served and it once again looks amazing. It looks like a white sauce pasta at first, but on closer examination there are elements to it you don’t immediately recognize.

“I see you’re making a face. It’s a truffle pasta. You can’t even get this in any restaurant in the capital. That’s how rare they are now. I only have chef make it for specific occasions.”

“And what’s the occasion tonight?”

“You. To our first dinner together.” He raises his glass and smiles.

You nod and tentatively smile back, raising your glass and clinking it against your own. You take a bite and immediately let out a soft moan. It’s so savory and rich. The sauce is so flavorful, and creamy. It has a garlic like taste to it, savory with a hint of umami to it.

“It’s delicious.” You utter

“Glad you think so.”

You both eat and enjoy the meal in front of you, talking little and focusing on the flavors. It truly is one of the best dishes you’ve had and you’re not sure how’ll his chef continue to outdo himself. You take your time to eat, the young president occasionally tossing you a glance and smirking to himself. He’s all too amused by your satisfaction with the meal. He loves how pleased you look and is tempted to now see you pleased in a different light. You notice his reaction, and try not to feel so small. You hate how he watches you and try to focus on your food.

Eventually, you both finish and there is an awkward moment of silence as the avoxes clear away the plates.

“Would you care to join me in the garden?

You nod and he smiles. He stands up, taking his wine glass, and you follow suit. He takes your hand and guides you out of the room. You slowly walk out to the garden, holding his hand the entire way. He continues to look back at you, giving you a devious smile each time. He can’t help but let his eyes trail over your bare legs and chest. He can’t help but imagine how the rest of your beautiful figure looks and he intends to find out soon.

As he leads you away, you look out onto the garden, which is now lit up by various lights on the pavement and in the rose bushes.

“It’s beautiful out here at night too.”

“Isn’t it?” He squeezed your hand.

He guides you down the stairs and surrounds you in the green and white lush of the rose bushes. He leads you around, walking back to where you and him hand lunch.

“I’d like to see more of the garden this evening if possible?” You request sounding innocent, but you keep your goals of escaping in the back of your mind.

“Of course. But I have something for you here.”

He guides you to the spot where you had lunch, the chairs and table gone and replaced by a single, tall standing iron table with a box on it and a small silver tray covered up next to it. You look at it curiously and he momentarily drops your hand and picks up the box.

“Turn around.” He instructs softly

You obey

“Close your eyes and push your hair back.” You nod and follow his instructions once again.

You hear the box open and then the sound of something metal clinging slightly. You have a good idea of what it is now. He approaches you with careful footsteps. Coriolanus stands confidently behind you, clutching the jewelry in his hand. Slowly, your chin is tilted up by his fingers, his hot breath fanning the shell of your ear. He unhooks the chain from around your neck and slides it into his pocket.

“You can keep that one of you want, but I have something far more beautiful.” He whispers

You shutter as he wraps a new necklace around your neck, followed by his hand under your jaw, kissing behind your earlobe.

“Turn around. Open your eyes, beautiful.”

You do as he says. You touch the new necklace and look down at it. It’s a golden rose, and it lays horizontally against your chest. You look at him doe eyed, speechless. Coriolanus grips your chin, forcing your face to look at his. He smirks. Coriolanus wants desperately to kiss you, but he knows now is not the moment. He strokes your face gently, then turns behind and uncovers the platter next to the box. Two chocolate truffles sit on the plate and he takes it, putting it in front of you.

“It’s the finest chocolate I have at the palace. Chef wants you to test out his new recipe. It’s different from the ones you had with your bath.”

He holds the chocolate to you and you part your lips and bite, as he slides the piece into your mouth. He trails his thumb across your bottom lip and to the corner of your mouth. He then licks the excess chocolate from his thumb, his tongue trailing a long, broad stripe.

“Mmm” the blonde moans “you can taste the hints of orange.” He remarks, taking the other piece.

“It is very good.”

“I should tell you this chocolate contains a few interesting ingredients.” He remarks

“Like what?”

“Nothing unusual or man made, just some natural elements. Since chocolate is already…a boost to…” he starts “certain needs…and desires” he says, popping the other truffle into his mouth.

“Will I feel…different”

“Not like a drug no, but you may feel more inclined to want to do something about how you feel.”

He takes your hand and kisses your knuckles.

“You look so pretty out in the moonlight.”

“Thank you Mr. President.”

He smiles at you and you continue to follow him through the garden. He walks you down a path leading to more greenery and bushes. Then the path opens up into a cleared out area with a grand marble fountain. On top of the fountain was a sculpture of a woman, the symbol of Panem. Water flows from the top of her head and back into the fountain

“I’ve always liked this part of the garden. The fountain. What it represents.”

You look at the fountain and walk to it. You look inside and look at images of all the symbols engraved into the base. Coal, lumber, grains, all the resources from the districts. You look at it and realize that the same water flowing out is the same as the water in the base. You slowly put the pieces together of what it means.

“The Flow of Panem. It was built for the last president. In all honesty I want to move it so it’s more front and center.”

“Explain it to me.” You ask, even though you got the idea. You know it will fuel his ego, make him trust you more so hopefully he’ll show you around and then you can really plan an escape.

He smiles and looks at it, tilting his head.

“The base flows into the statue and the statue spits the water back out on the base. The base provides for the statue and the statue gives back.”

You nod and he holds out his hand again and you take it. As he continues to guide you around, you admire how the flowers look under the glow of the lights and moonlight. He finally takes you back inside and at this point you’re holding onto this arm. He loves how you cling to him and by now you’re both feeling the effects of the chocolate. You look up at him and give a soft smile. As you step into the palace he leads you to his bedroom, and a new feeling washes over you.

His bedroom is similar to the rest of the aesthetic of the palace. There is a small area for guests to sit in front of a fireplace. Off to the side, in front of the large window looking out, sits a small desk. You glance around at the many portraits of his family and depictions of younger versions of him. Next to the desk is a spiraling staircase that must lead to his bedroom. In the sitting area, a table stands with another chilled bottle of red wine. Coriolanus invites you to join him by the fire and you do, following him. You lean against the mantel and he gets some more wine, picking up the bottle. He walks towards you, refilling your glass and you thank him. He puts the bottle on the mantle and looks at you with great interest.

“You’re welcome” he whispers, brushing your cheek with his forefinger. “Your skin is so warm here by the fire.”

“So are your fingers” you breathe

You look at him, eyes connected to his own and a small wave of lust washes over you. He trails his touch down to your jaw, holding your chin delicately. He smirks and tilts his head.

“It makes me wonder, where else are you hot?”

He sets his glass next to the bottle and places his other hand on your waist. You set your glass down as well, as his touch begins to light up your body. His thumb brushes your hip and thighs, grazing under the slit of your dress. You gasp at his actions and lightly grip his bicep. He trails his thumb across your bottom lip, then tilts your face to fully look at him. Coriolanus sighs, his blue eyes beckoning for your full attention. You can see how full of need he is. How badly he wants to kiss you, but is waiting for your permission. You flutter your lashes at him slowly, looking at his tempting lips. Your body is begging for you to give in and finally you do. You can’t help it. He’s so handsome, the light from the fire shadowing his features perfectly, causing your head to stir. You kiss him, slowly, carefully.

His breath hitches and he moves his hand to cup your face. He continues to kiss you, moving his mouth with your own slow pace. He doesn’t want to frighten you. In fact, the exact opposite. He finally has you how he wants to and now he’s desperate for more. His lips are so unexpectedly soft and tender, a complete opposite in comparison to his normal demeanor. You continue to kiss him, finding yourself wanting more. Your body continues to betray you as a slow heat creeps up your skin, starting in between your legs.

You pull back with a gasp, almost taken aback but own actions. A greedy smile curls up on his lips. He cups your face and strokes it carefully with his thumb.

“So perfect. Makes me want more of you, my angel”

He leans in to kiss your cheek, then trails it down to your jawline, and then your neck.

“Can I mark you?” He growls

You nod breathlessly and he sucks on your soft flesh. He’s starting to become more and more animalistic with his actions, finding it hard to restrain himself. He pushes your neck further against his mouth and tilts your head back. The heat in between your legs is now becoming sensitive as your core is now throbbing for him. You bet you’ll be soaked by the time he finally takes you. His lips leave another mark on the other side of your neck and he pulls back to admire his work. Satisfied, he traces the marks with his fingertips and looks into your eyes.

“Would you like to continue this in my bed?”

You nod, almost surprised at your reaction. He guides you and picks up his wine glass.

“Take your wine.” He insists

You nod and follow him up the stairs leading to his bedroom. Once up and inside, you briefly look around. It’s clear he likes to keep the aesthetic of the palace consistent and his bedroom reflects that. It’s a relatively plain room. A single king bed, with white sheets, lays against the right side of the room. It has a delicate, hand carved wooden canopy that sits above it, making the bed look cozy and inviting.

He turns to look at you and sips his wine. He once again touches your neck and smirks.

“Finish your glass. It will help the chocolate work better.”

“Why is that?” You ask

“Wine can have a similar effect as those chocolates. They can both help you feel…like you want to give into your needs.”

You take a sip as instructed and look at him straight in his eyes as you do.

“So that’s what the chocolates were then. A boost for…”

“One’s natural desires, yes.” He sips his wine finishing it.

You finish yours as well and he guides you to his bed. You sit and he takes your glass, along with his own, from you, putting them on his nightstand. He returns back to you, sitting next to you. He cups your face again, letting his other hand part your legs slightly.

“I have a feeling you didn’t even need the chocolate though. Hmm?”

“I-I won’t lie, before I came here, I did always admire you.” You admit, despite your need to escape, you once again feel torn, especially now that he’s about to take you fully.

“Yes, tell me more”

“I mean, when I would see you on TV or in the papers, I had thoughts.”

“Mhmm, where I’m doing what I’m doing to you.”

His hands trail more slowly, continuing to part your legs, fingers dancing on your bare thigh.

“Yes, Mr. President”

“Mmm” he hums “have I ever told you how pretty you sound talking to me like that. I love how right it sounds.”

“It’s your title is it not?”

“It is. But you are careful and respectful about using it. You have no idea how different you are. How special. How much it means to hear you say my name like that.”

You watch him as he now gropes your thigh. He turns your chin and kisses you again. He sighs against you, slowly lowering you onto his bed. He doesn’t crawl on top of you however, yet he simply lays by your side, strokes your hair and continues to kiss you. He revels in having you on his bed like this, a sight he’s waited for ever since he first took you to his home. Time and patience had proved him right once again. You spread your legs some more and he moans against your mouth. He pulls back, resting his lips against yours

“Getting needy?”

You nod, and he bites and pulls at your bottom lip causing you to moan.

“Do you like getting eaten out?”

You nod vigorously and he slides his hand under your dress through the slit, grabbing your panties and sliding them down. He chuckles as he goes back to feel your wetness.

“You’re dripping.” He rubs your core slowly, gently “I need to taste you.”

“Please…” you beg

He lets out a low, sinister chuckle as he starts to kiss down your body. Your dress is still on, yet you can still feel the pressure of his lips through the fabric. He finally reaches your thigh, inching down to nestle himself in between them. He drags your dress up past your hips and admires your exposed slit. He looks at you as he rubs it again. You can’t help but moan and clutch the bed sheets. He watches you beginning to writhe under his touch and he truly loves the sight before him. Then he dives in, his tongue giving your core a curious kiss, then a long, broad lick. You shutter and buck your hips. He holds them down, going back in with more conviction. His mouth is so soft and wet against you and you can tell he’s quite experienced in this area. You're not sure how many girls he’s taken home or went to bed with, but he sure knows how to make you feel like the most special woman in the world. Like a man starved, he eats you like it’s his last meal. His mouth envelops your pussy, licking and sucking on your clit with great attention. You can tell he loves it too. Loves to taste women like this. Get all up in it and devour them. Especially you and your perfect pussy. And you taste so divine.

As he continues to lap at you, you continue to struggle against his touch, hips wanting to still buck and legs beginning to shake. You moan over and over and over again. You can’t help but also moan out his name, telling him how good it feels. His hands hook under your thighs as he pushes his face in further to your folds. You’re so sensitive, so needy, dripping and throbbing from your heat. He pokes his tongue through your slit and fucks you with his mouth. Despite his best efforts, your hips buck up over and over again. You squirm at his touch, you’ve never had a man do that to you before. The sensation is incredible and you feel completely lost under the spell of his mouth.

Coriolanus is reveling in your lust. Your whimpers and moans are so sweet rolling past your lips. He wants you to be loud. He wants you to enjoy yourself. He wants to know how much you want him. Let the whole palace hear it too.

“That's it beautiful, let it all out. Let me hear those pretty little noises”

He goes back to your core practically drowning in your wetness and he gives you a few last swipes with his tongue. He kisses your slit then pulls back. He gets greedy, letting his fingers pick up the work from his tongue. He’s so passive, almost experimental, as he plays with your clit. Then, he slides a finger in and then another. You moan and watch him. He sits up on his knees, placing his hands on your pelvis. He curls them up and pushes them in and out of your core. He finds a good rhythm and speeds up. You gasp in pleasure, his fingers working you up so much you feel like you might explode. He speeds up again, changing his hand from a curling motion to a rapid up and down pace. You clench his forearm and flop your head back onto the mattress. He can tell you’re close, your slick, gummy walls wrapping around his fingers like a vice. He watches you, your expression, your pretty face scrunching up. He pulls back just as you know you’re going to finish, he pulls his hand away. You whine at the loss, but your attention is won over by his actions. Coriolanus smirks as he undoes his belt.

“Take that dress off sweet thing.”

You nod and shimmy out of it. He pulls it down and off your body. He gasps at your naked figure, taking in the sight laid across his bed. He sighs, palming himself through his pants as he simultaneously palms your breast with one hand. He pulls his pants down, leaving his boxers on. He rubs himself slowly, gawking at you and admiring how gorgeous you are.

“Look at you, so beautiful like this.”

He leans down and kisses your jawline sloppily. He rocks his hips against your pelvis.

“I really, really want you…” he growls

“Then take me” you moan back, your whiny voice sounding oh so desperate.

He smirks to himself, pulling his boxers down. His cock springs out, hard and ready. He strokes it in his hand, watching you and occasionally glancing down at it.

“Touch yourself.” He commands

You nod, biting your lip and gently rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves in between your legs. You rub slowly and watch him as he pumps his length. A satisfied smile sets in on his lips and he moves his hips closer. He leans down, kisses you and then, slowly pushes in. You moan against his mouth, pull away, and gasp as he bottoms out. He feels so big and full inside you. He slowly moves, grunts falling from his lips as he picks up the pace. Your hand falls away and finds his biceps. His hot breath fans your face as he rocks into you and he eventually captures your lips with his own. Cupping your face and keeping his movements consistent, you feel a slow wave of pleasure beginning to build. He pushes your leg up towards your chest, giving him better access to you. You look down at where he’s entered you and whimper. Watching his cock move in you like this has you drowning in ecstasy. He notices how mesmerized you are and wraps his hand around your neck.

“You’re hypnotized by it aren’t you? Tell me do you want more?”

You nod fervently and he chokes you tighter.

“Let me hear you. Tell me.”

“I need more. Please sir.” You croak

“Good girl.”

He speeds up, his hips getting faster and faster. Coriolanus slams into you, your body moving in sync with his rough rhythm. Your whimpers fill the room and the young president revels in your satisfaction, committing your sweet sounds and noises to memory. He continues to have a tight grip on your throat, almost cutting off your air, but you can still breathe. He stares into your eyes, his lust flooding your soul. He kisses you harshly, lips wasting no time to taste you. He prods his tongue in, swirling it with your own. You can’t help but moan, his hand moving to clench your jaw. He pulls back to look at you again. He looks down in between your legs, then back at you. He snakes his hand down to swirl your clit. He rubs the sensitive bundle of nerves, causing your hips to buck.

“That’s it. Show me how much you enjoy this. Just let go baby. Allow yourself to enjoy this pleasure I’m giving you.”

“Yes sir, thank you Mr. President”

“You’re so welcome my dear.” He kisses you again “My good” he groans “obedient…” he thrusts into you “girl.”

He ruts into you, lips still sealed on your own. Your own hands have settled on his back, holding onto him like a bear gripping a tree. The more he moves, you can feel you’re about to explode. Coriolanus picks up on it too, and gives you several purposeful thrusts to trigger your high. And he does. You clench around his cock, letting out a desperate cry of relief. Your legs shake and quiver, and you a series of cuss words flow from your mouth.

“That’s it.. Let it out. Dirty girl, it feels so good doesn’t it.”

He can feel himself getting close too, riding off the wave of your own climax.

“I’m going to cum too baby.” He warns “It’s ok, don't worry about taking it..”

You whine in protest at first, but then you feel it. His white, hot, cum shooting into you, hitting your cervix. Coriolanus slowly rests his hips, letting all of himself spill into you. He feels so satisfied, loving how fucked out you look as he pulls out. He watches the cum roll past your folds, down your ass and leg. He licks the pad of his thumb and trails it up your legs. He shoves it back at you then holds his thumb to your lips. You part them and he nods. You suck on his thumb and he moans, appreciating the sight in front of him.

“You’re so perfect. So gorgeous. You’ll stay with me tonight .”

You nod. It wasn’t an ask, but rather a command. You lick your bottom lip and then bite it.

“I’ll get you a towel and your nightwear. I’ll be back soon, don’t worry I’ll come hold you so you can fall asleep.” He whispers, kissing your cheek.

He crawls off the bed and heads to his bathroom to get you a towel. You lay back, wanting to cover yourself since you’re suddenly more cold. You spot a throw blanket at the edge of the bed and reach for it. You wrap up in it and wait for him to return. You rest your eyes and fold your hands under your head for support. You feel calm, relaxed, and truly satisfied as well. It’s like he’s put a spell on you, not drugging you per se, but you can feel that after tonight, your feelings about this situation have shifted.

When he returns, he cleans you up, then helps change you into a pink, satin sleepwear set, with a lacy top and bottoms to match.

“So sexy. Here.” he holds them out to you and you also see he’s holding a small silver tray with a pill on it.

“This will keep you from getting pregnant. I’ll get you a water”

He walks off, taking your empty wine glass with him. He comes back shortly, the glass now filled with water. He hands it to you, watching you closely as you swallow the contraceptive. You hand him the glass and he sets it down. You just now notice he’s shirtless and in just a pair of boxers as he crawls into bed. You move under the sheets as he lays the comforter over your body.

“Are you comfortable, too warm, too cold?” He asks

“I’m comfortable…” you murmur, slowly lulling into sleep.

Coriolanus settles in next to you, his hips slightly grinding into your ass as he pulls you closer to him, flush against his chest. He places small delicate kisses behind your ear and sighs into you.

“You realize how perfect you are. How perfect tonight has been?”

“Thank you Mr. President. It has been fantastic.” You agree

He turns your chin, kissing you firmly on the mouth.

“You can call me Coriolanus right now. Say it. Tell me what I want to hear.”

“It was perfect Coriolanus.”

꧁🝮꧂

[callsigns-haze]

A dirty dark shower

Pairing: Azriel x reader Summary: After a passionate encounter in a cramped stall, Y/N and Azriel are hilariously caught by their friends, leading to an awkward yet laughter-filled moment of shared camaraderie. Warning: This content contains explicit scenes of intimacy SMUT

The training grounds of the Night Court were alive with the sound of clashing blades and grunts of exertion. Y/N, a fierce warrior in her own right, had spent the entirety of the day honing her skills under the watchful eye of her mentor. As dusk began to descend upon Velaris, she found herself utterly exhausted, her muscles aching from the day's intense training regimen.

With a weary sigh, Y/N made her way to the female changing room, her friend Mor trailing behind her. The room was quiet save for the soft rustle of fabric as other members of the Night Court prepared to unwind after a long day of exertion.

Mor offered Y/N a sympathetic smile as they entered the room, her own fatigue evident in the lines of her face. "Rough day, huh?" she remarked, her voice laced with understanding.

Y/N nodded, a tired grin tugging at the corners of her lips. "You could say that," she replied, her words punctuated by a yawn.

Together, they made their way to their respective lockers, shedding their training gear with a sense of relief. The cool air of the changing room was a welcome respite from the heat of the day, and Y/N let out a contented sigh as she stripped off her sweat-soaked clothes.

As she rummaged through her bag for a fresh set of clothes, Y/N caught Mor's reflection in the mirror, her friend's eyes filled with a quiet sense of camaraderie.

As Y/N wrapped herself in a towel, the soft fabric enveloping her damp skin, she and Mor made their way towards the shower room. Laughter danced between them, a welcome respite from the day's intensity. But just as they reached the entrance, Mor's mischievous grin turned devilish.

Without warning, Mor playfully shoved Y/N forward, sending her stumbling into the men's shower area. Y/N's eyes widened in shock as she stumbled to regain her balance. Before she could react, the door slammed shut behind her with a resounding click, leaving her standing in stunned silence.

Heart racing, Y/N turned to face Mor, her expression a mixture of disbelief and embarrassment. "Mor, what in the world?!" she exclaimed, her cheeks flushing crimson.

But before Mor could respond, Y/N's gaze fell upon the figure standing nearby—a figure she never expected to encounter in the men's shower area.

Azriel.

Her breath caught in her throat as she took in his appearance—towel wrapped securely around his waist, droplets of water clinging to his raven hair. His expression mirrored her surprise, his eyes widening slightly as he registered her presence.

"Y/N?" Azriel's voice was a low murmur, tinged with uncertainty. "What are you doing here?"

Y/N felt her cheeks heat even further as she struggled to find an explanation. "Mor thought it would be funny to push me in here," she admitted, her words rushed and slightly breathless.

Azriel's lips twitched in a hint of amusement. "I see," he replied, his tone holding a note of bemusement. "Well, this certainly wasn't what I was expecting."

Despite her embarrassment, Y/N couldn't help but notice the warmth in Azriel's gaze—a flicker of something that sent a shiver down her spine.

As they stood there, awkwardness hanging in the air like a palpable presence, Y/N felt a surge of boldness wash over her. With a hesitant smile, she stepped closer to Azriel, her gaze meeting his.

As they stood there, the air thick with awkwardness, Y/N couldn't shake the embarrassment that coursed through her. Her towel, barely clinging to her body, threatened to betray her further, slipping precariously with every movement.

Awareness dawned in Azriel's eyes as he noticed her predicament, his gaze flickering to the precarious state of her towel. A flush crept up Y/N's neck as she desperately tried to readjust the fabric, her heart pounding with mortification.

"Sorry," she mumbled, cheeks aflame, as she fumbled to secure the towel in place.

Azriel's response was surprisingly gentle, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "No need to apologize, Y/N," he said softly, his voice a soothing balm to her frayed nerves.

Despite her embarrassment, Y/N couldn't help but appreciate the tenderness in his words, the warmth of his gaze. There was something undeniably intimate about this moment, something that made her heart flutter with anticipation.

As she finally managed to secure her towel, Y/N found herself meeting Azriel's gaze once more, a tentative smile playing at her lips. In that moment, amidst the awkwardness and vulnerability, she realized that perhaps this unexpected encounter held the promise of something more—a chance for them to explore the unspoken desires that had lingered between them for far too long.

And as they stood there, bathed in the soft glow of the overhead lights, Y/N felt a surge of courage wash over her. With a boldness she didn't know she possessed, she stepped closer to Azriel, her hand reaching out to brush against his.

"Maybe," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, "this isn't such a bad thing after all."

Azriel's response was a silent nod, his eyes reflecting the same longing that stirred within her. And as they stood there, on the precipice of possibility, Y/N knew that whatever lay ahead, they would navigate it together, their connection stronger than ever before.

----

As Y/N and Azriel found themselves in the midst of their awkward yet charged encounter, their moment was abruptly interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps approaching. Both turned their heads towards the entrance to the shower area, eyes widening as Cassian's figure loomed closer.

Mor stepped forward with a mischievous grin, attempting to block Cassian's path. However, Cassian, determined to proceed, pushed past her, his expression a mix of confusion and determination. "What's going on?" he demanded, his voice tinged with irritation.

Mor's grin faltered for a moment before she quickly recovered. "Oh, nothing, Cassian. Just a little joke," she replied with forced nonchalance, her eyes darting towards the door.

But before Mor could stop him, Cassian reached for the door handle, intent on opening it to investigate. Y/N's heart raced with panic as she exchanged a frantic glance with Azriel. Without a second thought, they both sprinted towards the nearest stall, their feet pounding against the tiled floor.

With a sense of urgency, they slipped inside just as Cassian swung the door open, his puzzled gaze scanning the empty room. Y/N held her breath, willing herself to remain silent as she pressed herself against the back wall of the stall, Azriel close beside her.

Cassian's brow furrowed in confusion as he peered around the room, searching for any sign of the mysterious occupants. "Strange," he muttered to himself, his voice muffled by the closed door.

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest as she listened to Cassian's footsteps recede, relief flooding through her as the tension of the moment finally began to dissipate. Slowly, she let out a shaky breath, exchanging a tentative smile with Azriel as they realized they had narrowly avoided being caught.

As Cassian entered the shower area, his senses on high alert, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. With a furrowed brow, he made his way towards the row of stalls, his eyes scanning the empty space for any sign of movement.

His gaze fell upon the stall beside Azriel's, and he called out, "Az, you in there?" His voice echoed off the tiled walls, filled with concern.

Inside the stall, Azriel tensed at the sound of Cassian's voice, his heart racing with apprehension. Y/N pressed herself against him, her breath coming in shallow gasps as they both listened intently.

To their surprise, Azriel responded, his voice steady despite the nerves that coursed through him. "Yeah, I'm here," he replied, trying to keep his tone casual.

Cassian's brow furrowed in confusion as he approached the stall, his footsteps echoing against the floor. "You sure you're okay, brother?" he asked, genuine concern lacing his words.

Azriel hesitated for a moment before responding, "Yeah, just taking a moment to myself."

As Cassian came closer, Azriel's heart hammered in his chest. He could sense Cassian's curiosity growing with every passing second. Desperate to avoid detection, Azriel glanced down and caught sight of Y/N's feet peeking out from beneath the stall door.

In a split-second decision, Azriel acted on instinct, lifting Y/N up around his waist to conceal her presence. Y/N's eyes widened in surprise as she clung to him, her heart racing in tandem with his.

Meanwhile, Cassian slipped a glance under the stall door, his gaze searching for any sign of Azriel. Azriel held his breath, willing himself to remain calm as Cassian's scrutiny lingered.

Finally, Cassian seemed to relent, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Alright, man. Just checking in," he said, his voice tinged with understanding.

As Cassian moved away, relief washed over Azriel and Y/N in equal measure. Slowly, Azriel lowered Y/N back to the ground, their eyes meeting in silent acknowledgement of their close call.

As Azriel lifted Y/N up to conceal her presence, his focus solely on evading Cassian's detection, he failed to notice the precarious state of his towel. In a sudden twist of fate, the fabric slipped from his waist, pooling at his feet, leaving him completely exposed.

Y/N's breath caught in her throat as she registered the unexpected turn of events, her eyes widening in surprise. The air crackled with tension as she stood before Azriel, her gaze drawn to the sight of his naked form, vulnerable yet undeniably alluring.

But instead of feeling intimidated by the sudden display of his length, Y/N felt a surge of boldness wash over her—a desire that burned hot and fierce within her veins. With a sudden impulse she couldn't ignore, she closed the distance between them, her lips seeking his in a daring kiss.

Azriel's eyes widened in shock as he registered her bold move, his heart pounding in his chest. For a moment, he hesitated, unsure of how to respond to her unexpected advance. But as her lips met his, a fire ignited within him—a passion that consumed him entirely.

With a low growl of desire, Azriel responded eagerly, his arms wrapping around Y/N's waist as he deepened the kiss. Time seemed to stand still as they lost themselves in each other, the world fading away until there was nothing but the heat of their shared desire.

In that moment, amidst the chaos and uncertainty of their surroundings, Y/N and Azriel found solace in each other's embrace—a connection that transcended words, binding them together in a bond that was as undeniable as it was undeniable.

As Y/N felt the rush of boldness surge through her, she made a split-second decision. With a quick movement, she let her towel fall to the floor, leaving her standing completely naked before Azriel. In the wake of her action, a sense of exhilaration washed over her, fueled by the intensity of their connection.

Azriel's breath caught in his throat as he took in the sight before him, his eyes roaming hungrily over Y/N's exposed form. Desire blazed in his gaze as he met her eyes, a silent acknowledgment passing between them.

Without a word, Azriel closed the distance between them, his hands gentle yet possessive as they traced the curves of Y/N's body. With each touch, Y/N felt a shiver of anticipation ripple through her, her skin tingling with pleasure.

In the intimate confines of the stall, the world fell away, leaving only the two of them—lost in the heat of their shared desire. Azriel's lips found hers once more, the kiss igniting a fire that burned hot and fierce between them.

But he didn't stop there. His kisses trailed a path of fire down her neck, her collarbone, igniting a trail of desire wherever they landed. Y/N's breath hitched in her throat as she surrendered herself to the intoxicating sensation of his lips against her skin.

With each tender touch, Azriel worshipped her body as if it were a sacred temple, his hands and lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake. And as they moved together in the cramped confines of the stall, Y/N lost herself in the dizzying whirlwind of sensation, every touch sending her spiraling closer to the edge of ecstasy.

In the midst of their intimate exchange, Azriel's breath hitched as he felt the weight of Y/N upon his waist. With a fervent desire burning in his eyes, he leaned in close to her ear, his voice a husky whisper that sent shivers down her spine.

"Y/N," he murmured, his breath warm against her skin, "may I… may I go inside you?"

Y/N's heart fluttered at his whispered request, her cheeks flushing with a mixture of anticipation and desire. In that moment, she knew with absolute certainty that she wanted nothing more than to surrender herself completely to Azriel, to lose herself in the ecstasy of their shared passion.

With a breathless nod, Y/N met Azriel's gaze, her eyes filled with an unspoken longing. "Yes," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper, "please."

Azriel's lips curved into a tender smile as he pressed a soft kiss to Y/N's lips, his hands moving with gentle reverence as he guided them closer together. In the intimate confines of the stall, they moved as one, their bodies melding together in a dance of passion and desire that left them both breathless and trembling with ecstasy.

And as they became lost in the dizzying whirlwind of sensation, Y/N knew with absolute certainty that she had found her home in Azriel's embrace—a sanctuary where their love could burn bright and unyielding, lighting up the darkness and guiding them through even the darkest of nights.

As the intensity between them escalated, Azriel's movements became more fervent, driving them both to new heights of pleasure. Y/N's breath hitched in her throat as she felt him pick up the pace, his movements sending waves of ecstasy coursing through her.

Lost in the whirlwind of sensation, Y/N couldn't help but vocalize her pleasure, her cries of ecstasy filling the small space of the stall. "Azriel," she gasped, her voice raw with desire, "Azriel!"

The sound of their bodies colliding echoed off the tiled walls, a symphony of passion that filled the room. Each thrust brought them closer to the edge, the tension coiling tight within them as they chased the elusive release that awaited them.

And then, in a crescendo of ecstasy, they reached their peak together, their voices mingling in a chorus of ecstasy. "Y/N!" Azriel's voice rang out, filled with longing and desire, as he tumbled over the edge into blissful oblivion.

"Azriel!" Y/N cried out, her voice a melodic symphony of pleasure as she followed him over the edge, her body pulsing with the intensity of their shared release.

In that moment of pure ecstasy, as their bodies trembled with the aftershocks of their passion, Y/N knew with absolute certainty that she had found her soulmate in Azriel's arms—a love that burned brighter than any star in the night sky, illuminating the darkness and guiding them towards a future filled with endless possibility.

As the echoes of their shared ecstasy began to fade, Y/N and Azriel gradually became aware of their surroundings once more. With heavy breaths and racing hearts, they leaned against each other for support, their bodies still tingling with the lingering aftershocks of their passion.

But as they basked in the warmth of their shared intimacy, a sudden realization washed over them—they were not alone in the room. With wide eyes, they turned towards the stall door, their hearts sinking as they remembered the presence of their friends just beyond the thin barrier.

A flush of embarrassment crept up Y/N's cheeks as she exchanged a sheepish glance with Azriel, their shared gaze filled with a mixture of amusement and chagrin. It was a sobering reminder of their surroundings, a stark contrast to the private world they had just shared together.

Azriel's lips curved into a wry smile as he reached for Y/N's hand, his touch a comforting reassurance amidst the awkwardness of the moment. "Well," he murmured, his voice tinged with amusement, "that was certainly unexpected."

Y/N couldn't help but chuckle softly at his words, her embarrassment gradually giving way to amusement. "To say the least," she replied, her tone light despite the lingering blush on her cheeks.

With a shared understanding, they gathered their wits and began to hastily dress, their movements quick and efficient as they prepared to face their friends once more. As they emerged from the stall, after wrapping up in their towels, their expressions carefully composed, they were met with a mixture of knowing glances and amused smiles from Mor and Cassian.

"Caught in the act, were we?" Mor quipped, a playful twinkle in her eyes as she exchanged a knowing look with Cassian.

Y/N's cheeks flushed crimson at the teasing remark, but she couldn't suppress the laughter that bubbled up from deep within her. Despite the embarrassment of being discovered, there was a sense of camaraderie in the air—a shared understanding that only served to strengthen the bonds of friendship between them.

As they left the shower area behind, their laughter echoing through the halls of the Night Court, Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the friends who had witnessed their most intimate moment and yet accepted them without judgment or reservation.

And as they made their way back to their quarters, hand in hand, Y/N knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would always have each other—for better or for worse, in moments of passion and of laughter, they were united as one, bound together by the unbreakable ties of friendship and love.

Tagging some:

@callsign-magnolia

@kmc1989

@hardballoonlove

@senawashere

@hookslove1592

@marvel-molly

@lilah-asteria

@daughterofthemoons-stuff

[birinboom]

One Moment of Forever

Todoroki Shouto x Reader Word count: 1,786 Summary: When Shouto is forced to take a break from work due to a quirk injury, the two of you decide to go on a camping trip to your favorite lakeside spot.

Genre: Fluff, established relationships, camping, nature therapy, pet names (love) Note: My entry for andypantsx3’s pretty boy summer collab. This fic is also a part of the @ficsforgaza initiative - thank you so much to those who sponsored it!! 💖💖💖 Check out my list of WIP's here! This is my first time writing Shouto, not sure I got him exactly right…

Your oar slips through the water, near-silent. The air is full of the song of birds. A couple take off from a tree, weaving between each other in a dance, their wings skirting the water of the river before they land in a tree on the opposite bank. You can’t help but smile at the scene.

Water laps at the bow of the canoe. Behind you, Shouto is quiet. Content with just sitting in silence, enjoying the early morning. It’s one of the things you love about him. He’s just as happy in a comfortable silence as he is listening to you talk. He doesn’t mind either way.

Leaves rustle on the riverbank and a doe steps out from the undergrowth, moving towards the river to drink. You suck in a quiet breath as first one fawn, then a second, follow the doe. They’re small, their legs still unmanageable, white spots bright against tawny fur. You can’t imagine them being more than a few days old. 

Shouto shifts behind you, steering the canoe further towards the opposite bank in an attempt to keep the doe from bolting. Your head swivels as you slowly drift by, watching the fawns nurse, their little tails wiggling happily. When you deem them at a safe distance, you turn fully, beaming at Shouto.

“So cute!” you whisper.

He responds with a soft smile. “Very.”

You look at him for a moment. It’s early enough that the sky is still a gorgeous display of orange and pink, rising sun hidden behind the trees. The light limns him with gold. Despite having lived together for years, you are still occasionally struck by just how beautiful he is. Especially at moments like this, outlined in soft morning gold, a gentle breeze playing with his hair. He looks ethereal, like some immortal being from a fairytale.

Shouto tilts his head, puzzled.

“Is everything alright, love?”

You smile at him. 

“Yeah. Just admiring the view.”

You have Bakugou to thank for this experience, you reflect as you pull the canoe onto the narrow strip of sand surrounding the lake. He was the one who introduced Shouto to camping long before the two of you met; and he was the one who introduced both of you to this campsite. It’s one of your favorite places to spend a few days off with Shouto. It’s small, but very well kept. Top tier amenities. And being a campsite specifically for pro heroes and their families, it requires reservations, meaning it’s never crowded. Any heroes you’ve run into on your previous stays would do a brief smile and nod -at most a moment of small talk- before they move on. They want to relax and unwind just as much as the two of you do. No one wants to talk about work.

This time, though, the campsite is empty except for you and Shouto. You were lucky -so to speak- that Shouto’s quirk-strain happened during the off season or the place would’ve been fully booked. He’s on strict orders to only use his quirk for emergencies and to spend his time off in rest and relaxation. And this campsite is the most relaxing vacation spot you’ve come across so far.

Clouds blow in later in the morning, the gentle pitter-patter of rain steady against your tent. Shouto has dozed off while you read, his breathing soft and even. Every breath weaves together with the sound of the rain, with the smell of petrichor. You find it difficult to keep your eyes open. Then Shouto rolls onto his side, one arm draping around your middle. He pulls you closer, face pressing into your neck. His body is sleep-warm, his arm laying heavily over you. 

You can’t resist anymore. “Fine!” you mumble, putting your book away and settling in for a nap.

Shouto mumbles something in reply, pressing a gentle kiss against your throat.

The rain has stopped by the time you wake. Shouto is still asleep, molded against your back, clinging to you as he usually does. He once confessed while only half awake that he worried you would leave. That someone would steal you away. The confession happened years ago; you’ve shown him time and again that you’re not going anywhere, that this unknown someone would have to drag you away kicking and screaming. And still he clings to you like a burr while asleep. You don’t really mind, though. If that is what he needs to sleep peacefully, then you’re more than happy to relax into his warm embrace. It makes you feel treasured and safe. And you’ve grown so accustomed to Shouto’s arms around you that you find it difficult to sleep when he isn’t next to you.

Shouto stirs. You more feel than hear the soft groan he lets out as he wakes. Almost as if his body is fighting to stay asleep. He pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder.

“What time is it?” he mumbles, voice rough from sleep.

“About 2,” you reply, rolling over to press your face into Shouto’s neck. “You can go back to sleep if you want.”

“No,” he replies, sounding more awake. “If I do, I will be unable to sleep tonight. I would rather spend my time with you.” 

You spend a while cuddling, talking, basking in each others’ company. Something you both feel doesn’t happen nearly often enough in your daily lives. Then you carry on with your day.

The ground is slick under your feet. Each step you take is carefully measured. You’d forgotten just how steep part of the trail looping around the lake is. A hike right after a rainfall wasn’t your brightest idea. Still, the view is amazing.

You pause at the top of the last hill, wiping your brow. The lake spreads out in front of you, waters reflecting the gray skies. You can see your tent by the beach, a splash of red amongst green. It reminds you of the first ripe berry on a bush.

The thought of berries makes your stomach growl. It’s almost time for dinner.

You turn to Shouto. He looks completely unbothered by the ascent, not a hint of a flush on his face, his breathing calm and even. It’s unfair sometimes, how effortless physical exertion can be for him. At the same time you’re quite satisfied not having to fight villains on a regular basis.

“Ready for the last stretch?” you ask.

Shouto just nods.

You start down the hill, every step careful. Turning your head, to take one last peek at the view. 

And then you slip.

Your back instantly collides with Shouto’s chest, his arms coming up to steady you. He seems as solid as a boulder, waiting patiently as you get your feet back under you. You have half a mind to just sag in his arms and demand he carry you back down the trail. You know he would do it in a heartbeat. But he’s meant to rest.

“Are you alright, love?” he asks when you don’t move.

You sigh in defeat, finally standing up straight. “I’m fine,” you say, looking back at him. “Just surprised.”

Shouto returns your gaze, lips pressed tight with silent concern. You look at him for a moment, before your eyes flick to the sky behind him. The clouds are the same steely-gray hue as his right eye. You can almost see them roll as they’re blown away. The sky should be clear soon.

The sun breaks out almost as if on cue, slanted early-evening rays highlighting the soft waves on the lake, the water sparkling. You point it out to Shouto.

“A quick dip before dinner?” you ask.

Shouto just looks at you for a moment. “It will not be too cold for you?”

You scoff. “Only one way to find out!”

You stare into the glowing embers of the campfire, a blanket wrapped tightly around your shoulders. 

The dip in the lake was a less-than-great idea. Despite being heated from the hike, and despite making sure your hair stayed dry, you can still feel the chill of the water. It wasn’t too bad as long as you kept moving. Still, you’re happy that the two of you decided on spicy curry for dinner tonight.

Shouto shifts next to you.

“How are you feeling, love?” he asks. 

“Better,” you reply. “Still a bit cold, but the hot food is helping.”

“Would you like to come on a brief walk with me?” he asks.

You look at him for a moment. “To where? It’s almost dark.”

A smile tugs at the corner of Shouto’s lips. “To the store by the office. I thought an after dinner treat might be in order.”

You stand, beginning to put out the fire. “Better hurry then, they close soon.”

The little store run by the office is stocked with a few necessities and of course snacks. But you notice something you haven’t seen before on your way to the till. Fireworks.

You stop, tugging on Shouto’s sleeve. Pointing at the small display, you ask, “Wanna get some sparklers?”

The two of you take the sparklers down to the beach, and -much to your protest- Shouto lights them with his quirk, claiming that such a small effort it would be no hindrance in his recovery.

You both crouch on the sand, watching the sparklers burn. Peeking at Shouto for a moment, you find his focus trained on the sparkler in his hand, the sparks reflecting in his eyes. You look away again, trying your best to curb your laughter. He is like a little kid sometimes, behaving like he is experiencing something for the very first time. It’s one of the many things you love about him.

You sit still long after the last sparkler has died out, pressed against Shouto’s warmer side, his arm looped around your back. The lake is quiet, the reflections of stars bobbing on its soft waves. You turn your face skyward, a silent breath escaping you at the beauty above. Turning to Shouto, you see the stars reflected in his eyes, much like the sparklers did earlier.

Burrowing closer against him, you press a kiss to his cheek.

“I’m happy we came here,” you say, laying your head on his shoulder, “even if it was because of your injury.”

Shouto hum in agreement, then you feel his lips brush against the top of your head. 

The two of you sit for a while longer, watching the stars, enjoying the quiet night. 

We should make sure to spend more time like this, you think. The two of you enjoying each other’s company. Watching the world go by. 

One moment of forever with him.

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, comments, reblogs, and asks (on and off anon) are always greatly appreciated! If you like, you can check out my other works here. Love, Em 💖

[fyodior]

.˳⁺⁎˚ dip you in honey so i could be stickin' to you ˚⁎⁺˳ .

for my love @doukeshi-kun

✿ pairing: stepdad!fukuzawa x fem!reader

✿ cw: dark content -- st3pcest, daddy kink, age gap (reader above 18) slightly immature reader, mild dumbification, reader referred to as "girl" once, creampie, brother!ranpo, semi-public sex. 18+ minors DNI !!

✿ notes: fic 3 for my 1k event! love this concept so much thank u bean for requesting it :")

✿ wc: 1.5k

dark content disclaimer: this is entirely fiction with absolutely no reflection of reality! i do not condone this nor any other dc i write, pls just block or unfollow if you don't like it, and do NOT report or leave hate comments please!

Fukuzawa – just Yukichi to you – had always been a great stepfather. He took care of you and supported you like one of his own, protected you fiercely, and did everything for you. in all honesty, he spoiled you a bit rotten. He even had gotten you a job at the Armed Detective Agency. Your coworkers had a habit of whispering about the likely nepotism related to your hiring, you didn’t even have an ability, but it never bothered you. Not when you got to spend all day with your beloved stepdad.

When you weren’t in the field investigating cases, you were sat in Fukuzawa’s office at your own personal little desk he had set up working on paperwork. Although, more often than not, he very generously completed your paperwork for you while you sat on his lap and cockwarmed him. It was only just him fulfilling his fatherly duties.

-

“Daddy?” you asked, peaking your head around the door and into his office.

It was one of the rare times you had decided to sit with your fellow coworkers to do desk work instead of with Fukuzawa, so it wasn’t long before he was calling for you to come see him. His face immediately lit up from the default frown that usually adorned his features.

“Hello darling, come sit,” he crooned, patting his lap.

You giggled before padding your way over to him, locking the door behind you.

As you settled onto his lap, nuzzling your face into his shoulder, he rested one hand on your hip while the other pet your hair gently.

“How are you doing, my love?”

“A lot better, now that I’m with you again,” you cooed. He just chuckled.

“And how is your brother?” The deep vibrations of his chest as he spoke were calming, making you cuddle even further into his embrace.

“Ranpo is whining about having to work on this new case because he thinks it’s boring, but I bribed him into cooperating by promising I’d bake him any sweets he wanted when we get home tonight.” You rolled your eyes at your brother’s antics, but you loved him more than anything, too.

“That’s my girl,” Fukuzawa laughed. “So clever and smart.”

“Thank you, Daddy,” you said, blushing at the compliment. Approval from him was always made you swoon.

“Of course, darling. Now I did call you in here for a reason.”

“Hmm?”

“See, I’ve been stressed with all of this communication I’ve been having to facilitate with multiple different organizations pertaining to our most prominent case, and I was wondering if you would like to help me unwind a bit?” he asked, voice low.

You laughed and nodded.

“Of course, Daddy.”

“I knew you would, darling. Always so, so helpful and compassionate.” His smile made your insides feel warm.

“How can I help?”

“I would love it if you bent over the desk for me.” You could hear the smirk in his voice.

You didn’t need to be told twice.

Wiggling off his lap so you could lean over his desk, you hiked your skirt up as your face pressed into the hardwood.

“Like this?” you asked.

“Perfect,” Fukuzawa mumbled.

He leaned forward from his desk chair to run his long fingers over your ass, fingertips just barely grazing over the skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Wordlessly, he gently pulled down your panties so they fell to your ankles, mouth watering as his eyes fell upon your bare pussy.

Fukuzawa undid his yukata so he could fist his hardening cock while he slid his fingers between your folds, making you shiver. He had been fantasizing about this moment for the past hour since he decided to call you in for a quick destressing session and was already eager to take you. It seemed you had been anticipating something of the sort as well, and had already slicked up nicely for him.

Standing up so his tall frame towered over you, he held his cock and ran it in between your lips to gather some of the slick. You moaned, wiggling your ass impatiently. Fukuzawa laughed, but got the memo.

Soon he was lining himself up with your entrance and prodding the tip at your hole.

“Is this okay, my love?” he cooed, voice deep and comforting.

“Yes, Daddy,” you replied with a slightly too eager tone.

With your go-ahead Fukuzawa slowly pushed past the tight ring of muscle at your entrance, making you groan. He gave you a second to adjust, knowing it sometimes stung as you tried to accommodate for his large cock.

Once he could feel your body relax he pushed forward, and you whined louder and louder with every inch he pushed into you. He had to gently shush you when he bottomed out as you let out a loud yelp that very likely could’ve been heard from outside his office. Not many words were needed throughout the process as he knew your body and its cues like the back of his hand, could read you like his favorite book.

“Are you ready?” he still liked to ask, though.

“Please,” you whined.

Tightening his grip on your hips, pulls nearly all the way out before thrusting back into you. His pelvis snug against your ass, he leaned down to press comforting kisses to the nape of your neck as your yelped.

“More please, Daddy,” you whined. He happily obliged.

Slowly building up a rhythm, Fukuzawa smiled as he watched you fall apart over his cock. He ran his hands up and down your sides calmingly as you whimpered, becoming overwhelmed with both the sting and the pleasure of your stepdad’s cock inside you.

He didn’t plan to get too rough as he wasn’t much of an exhibitionist and didn’t want the sounds of skin on skin to be heard by anyone else, but the way you clenched around his length was dizzying, and he slowly started losing control. Fukuzawa began fucking into you faster and you couldn’t help the moans rising from your throat, tightening your grip on the edge of the desk as pleasure pooled throughout your body.

The way his thick cock curved managed to hit your sweet spot with almost every thrust felt like electricity, like he was made just for you.

Fukuzawa could feel the stress draining from his body as he fucked you, sighing. He loved you fiercely, but also loved that he could always count on you to mellow him out in the best way possible. Though in the moment he felt a bit feral, wanting more and more of your tight, wet cunt.

He didn’t want to take too long, didn’t want anyone to question either of your extended absences, so he quickened his thrusts to chase the high he had been needing. The increased pace of his cock pumping in and out of you forcefully clouded your mind and had you drooling on the papers you were bent over.

“Gonna cum soon, darling, want Daddy’s cum in you?” he grumbled, whispering right into your ear.

“Please, please,” you whined. “Need you so bad.”

He was always going to give you what you needed.

He fucked you hard and fast now, the mix of precum and juices squelching and dripping down your thighs. You instinctively started rocking your ass to meet his thrusts, fucking yourself on his cock to reach your own high.

You knew he was close as his hips stuttered and his breath hitched, and you gasped as he came, cock twitching as it shot hot ropes of cum into your throbbing pussy, still slowly rocking his hips to fuck his seed deep into you.

Wordlessly he pulled out and pulled up your panties for you before retying his yukata and gathering you into his arms.

“Thank you for being so good for me, as always, my love,” he whispered into your ear, petting your hair. “I feel much better now because of you.”

You smiled and pecked a kiss onto his lips before curling into his embrace. “Of course, Daddy. Always.”

“Would you like to stay right here with me for the rest of the day? Then I can help you make those sweets for Ranpo tonight?”

“Want that more than anything,” you giggled. The rest of the agency would likely be whispering as to why you disappeared into your stepdad’s office for the rest of the workday, but you didn’t care. Not when you had Fukuzawa loving on you like this.

“Happily for you, darling,” he sighed before tightening one arm around you and picking up his pen once again.

He started once again on his dreaded presidential work with a clear mind and increased motivation, and thanked his lucky stars he always had you around to make him feel better.

some tags :)

@hnnnnnnnmscorner @blueparadis @8kh

[ozarkthedog]

summary — Chris needs help applying his sun tan oil.

warnings — DBF!Chris Evans x afab!reader. age gap. dirty talk. hand job. face sitting. oral sex (f). fingering. squirting. light spit play. light spanking. light cum play. the usual filth. chris evans looking like this ☝️ no beta.

word count — 2.1K

author’s note — we were all affected by the “SMA” shoot. this is where my mind went. 😏

☽ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ♁ 𝐎𝐳𝐳𝐢𝐞'𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ☾

— 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐎𝐧𝐥𝐲 - 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈. — 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝/𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦. 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 & 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝!

“Hey, pretty girl. How’s it going?” Chris asks swimming over to the edge of his massive inground pool. 

You drop your things on one of the lounge chairs and stretch your arms over your head, “Oh you know, same old, same old.” You chuckle, grateful to unwind after a long day of job hunting.

Having just completed your third college semester, you enjoyed the sanctuary his backyard lent you. Filled with various palms and vegetation, a trickling waterfall, and the stacked bar, it was heaven on earth.

Chris was one of your dad’s closest (and most handsome) friends. Only recently had you gotten to know him, bonding over a silly meme one night at a party and from there he became a part of your life. 

He allowed you to come over whenever you wanted as long as you gave him a heads up. “You know, just in case I have any…,” His lips pull into a smirk when he sneaks a glimpse over the rim of his sunglasses at your curves. “Women friends spending the night.”

The crystal blue water ripples as he swims another lap across the pool. This is one of the many activities he uses to stay in shape aside from one particular, salacious activity. His words, not yours.

You walk to the edge of the glistening pool and dip your toes in. It’s cool and refreshing, and the tattooed man makes it feel that much better.

After a final lap, he rises from the pool like a Greek god. 

Water drips down his immaculate body, curving over the taut muscles. His tiny, barely there swim trunks could easily be mistaken for boxer briefs they were so tight.

You clench your jaw from dropping at the wicked sight.

He pads to your left, splashing you with a bit of water as he reaches for a towel. “Oops. Sorry.” It lacks sincerity but you could care less.

His muscles bounce with every swipe of the towel as he dries himself off. 

“I’m gonna lie out for a bit.” He nods towards the lounge before reaching for the tanning oil.  

That golden chain bounces against his hairy, inked chest and his intimidating package bulges with every step as he makes his way around the pool.

You try to distract yourself as you sit on the pool edge and stare at your reflection before kicking it away. You’d only been in his presence less than 5 minutes and already you can’t stop yourself from being pulled in his direction.

He makes sure to catch your eye when he slathers his muscles in tanning oil. Slowly rubbing his hands over every inch of his expansive chest and rippling torso. Putting on a show that would be illegal if he wasn’t in the comfort of his own backyard.

You squirm against the heated concrete as he holds your gaze with a smirk. Your core clenches hard when he slides his slippery fingers down the v cut of his hips and pushes the thin briefs down a bit further.

He’s got a small tattoo at the base of his hips and thick auburn hair circles the beginning of what looks like a well endowed cock.

Your mind swirls with heady arousal making you feel faint.

“Hey, Sweetheart,” he calls out, grinning when you jolt from your horny stupor. “Help me get my back?”

You hesitantly push to your feet and walk over to the hulk of a man as he tosses you the bottle. 

“Rub a generous layer on, please.” He requests, turning away and giving you a clear view of his sculpted back. You swallow the lump in your throat and pour the liquid into your palms.

You smooth the oil along his shapely shoulders, down his spine, and slowly massage the ornate muscles.

“Damn that feels good. Your hands are so soft, Sweetheart.” 

You’re a mess. Between the praise and being able to rub your hands all over his back, it’s no wonder you’re in ruins. 

Chris turns around after you smooth the final layer on his freckled skin and you feel an imaginary punch hit you sqaure in the belly.

His once tight swim trunks are now extremely and overtly tight as his cock throbs, pushing against the thin material with a twitch.

You avert your eyes, looking anywhere but the enormous package that’s aching to be released. 

“Ah, yeah, that happens when pretty girls touch me.” He plays it cool and sits down on the lounge chair, stretching his limbs with a sigh. 

You fidget with the oil still smeared on your hands unsure of what to do with the mess until you spot his towel. 

“Ah ah,” Chris chides with a raised brow. “That’s a waste of good oil.” 

His head drops to his chest and his eyes flick from his straining swim trucks up to your dazed eyes. “I think you could put your hands to good use.” 

Heat burns your cheeks at the insinuation. “Really? Is that such a good idea?” You teethe your lip nervously. 

“Come on, bein’ a goodie two shoes is overrated.” He says as he palms his cock with a husky groan. “It’ll be our little secret.”

How could you say no to such a tempting offer?

“‘Atta girl.” Chris praises as you sink onto the lounge next to him, pressing your thigh against his before carefully tugging the wet material down his thighs. 

His hefty cock flops against his trim belly with a dull thud, eliciting a pathetic whimper from your lips.

“See somethin’ you like, Sweetheart?”

Warmth blossoms in your chest at the nickname and sinks into the confines of your core, drowning your pussy in arousal.

He’s so unbelievably girthy. Your fingers don’t even touch as you cautiously wrap them around his cock. The bulbous crown pulses red at the tip making you lick your lips greedily. 

“Yeah, that’s it.” Chris praises, as his head falls back onto the lounge with a groan. “Up and down, milk my cock.”

You slowly swirl your grip around his length, tugging steadily and hanging on every noise that squeezes from his throat.

“God damn your hands are fuckin’ amazin’.” His brow furrows as he bites his plump bottom lip with a guttural moan.

Your core throbs, pounding like a beating heart as more slick drips into the lining of your bikini. You clamp your thighs together desperate to quell the terrible twinge that gets stronger by the second.  

“Awe. Is my pretty girl’s pussy achin’? ” Chris taunts with an exaggerated pout. “She gettin’ all wet and drippin’ for some attention?”

In a flash, he maneuvers your body so it’s laying over his. 

Your knees are propped on either side of his head while his cock stands at attention directly in front of your face. 

“Such a fine fuckin’ ass you have.” He takes a bite of your supple flesh causing you to jolt forward with a whimper from the harsh treatment. The slick tip smacks against your chin and leaves a sticky stain of precum and oil. 

“Keep goin’, Sweetheart. I’m just gonna have a taste.” 

Chris pulls the drenched lining of your bottoms to the side and growls. The basement deep vibrations rumble through your body as a strand of slick stretches with his movements until it breaks and snaps back onto your soaked core.

“Lookit’ how wet this little pussy is. You’re absolutely gushin’.” Breath fans your skin as he takes a deep whiff of your folds. 

“Fuck.” He grits his teeth and thrusts his hips toward your face, dribbling more precome down the mushroom crown. “If that’s not the sweetest smellin’ cunt.” He takes another deep breath before attaching his mouth to your cunt like a dog to a bone.

“O!” You squeal and grasp the base of his cock for leverage as his tongue dives between your weeping folds. He caresses your velvet walls and widens your convulsing channel with unmatched prowess.

A sharp blow lands on your behind. “Didn’t I say keep going?” Chris grunts, detaching from your sopping heat for a moment before diving back in.

Your mind races to catch up on the task, literally at hand, and you grasp the obscenely thick base giving it a few quick jerks. Chris groans into your flesh with every stroke of your fist. His cock throbs, steadily dribbling as you circle the reddened tip with tight swirls.   

His beard scratches your tender folds as he eats you whole, sending shocks up your spine as he sucks your clit into his mouth. He teases the tiny nub with harsh flicks and violent swipes forcing you to the edge quicker than anyone ever has before.

Your hands clutch his cock for dear life as a blinding light explodes behind your eyes.

“‘Atta girl.” Chris mumbles against your shiny core as you writhe against his face and grind on his tongue, prolonging the pleasure. 

You slump forward resting your head on one of his burly thighs to catch your breath but Chris has other plans. 

“Let’s see how messy this pussy can get.” 

Just then a thick wad of spit hits your folds. You recoil with a gasp but Chris snakes his hold even tighter around your thighs. 

“Can’t fake that innocent bullshit with me, Sweetheart. Your pussy fuckin’ clenched when I spat on it.” He deviously gloats.

Your belly flips with embarrassment but he was right. You fucking loved it.

A whine slips from your throat as you push your sticky cunt toward his face ignoring any shameful thoughts that try to surface.

“There you go. Just let me do the thinkin’.” 

Chris taps two fingers against your swollen petals before pushing them into your quivering core and pulling a desperate moan from you. 

“Stroke my cock, Sweetheart.” He commands gruffly, gliding his digits along your walls. “But remember, if you stop. I'll stop.” 

You clench around his thick fingers at the threat. With new found, albeit anxious energy, you begin stroking his cock again. His veiny girth glistens in the sunlight as you steadily pump in time with the fingers that thrust into your cunt.

“Shit– yes, such a good girl.” He locks his lips around your clit adding to the overwhelming bliss.

His fingers search out that spongy spot behind your clit as your hands milk him from base to tip, making his abs tighten with each stroke. When your cunt locks down on him, he curls his fingers and focuses all his attention on that special spot.

“Chris– oh fuck!” you cry as your core floods with slick and he shoves and twists his fingers deep inside. Your rhythm lags and you falter with slowing tugs when the rapture begins to suffocate you.

Chris ‘tuts’ and slows his fingers to the same languid pace. 

“Thought you were better than this. Thought this greedy cunt wanted to come.” he chides, smacking your ass.

A whiny apology tumbles from your lips as your pace renews and you swirl your thumb around the tip after every upward stroke. You feel him smile into your pussy, pleased with your attitude before he latches his lips around your clit once more.

Your hips drive back onto his fingers and jaw chasing your pleasure like it was the last thing on earth. His cock throbs under your touch as his own ecstasy rapidly mounts.

“I’m gonna come all over that pretty face.” He muses, lapping at the spill of arousal that drips from your core. “Mark you up real nice.” 

Your cunt flutters at his lewd statement and your hands twist faster around his length, desperate to be covered in his spend.

“Come on, Sweetheart.” Chris commands with a ragged growl, balls ready to empty. “Wanna feel how tight this cunt can get.”

Your body lurches as you come with a shout, squirting your creamy release all over his fingers and beard. 

With a gravelly groan, his sack tightens and he splashes hot waves of come across your face. Your chin, lips, and cheeks are painted in his gummy seed as he trembles beneath you while you milk his balls for every last drop. 

A few blissful moments later, he lightly smacks your thigh signaling you to move. You crawl off his body and sit at the end of the lounge while he tucks his softening cock away.

He curls a finger at you. “Come ‘ere. Let me look at you.” 

You crawl between his spread thighs as he cups your stained face in his palms. He drinks up the sight and grins deviously at you covered in his gluey white spend. 

“Gotta make sure you rub it in completely or else it won’t work.” He quips with a wink while dragging his fingers through the thick fluid and massages his sticky seed into your skin.

Your purr under his touch and flutter your lashes up at him. Maybe he was right. Being the bad girl was more fun.

anyone else want to be covered in come now??????

[flowerbetweenfangs]

Cream Filling: Chapter 08

This is part of an ongoing series, you can read the previous entry here!

Heads up: This is a "bridge" chapter. While there's no sex, it's important to get from point a to point b.

CW: Stabbing, abusive ex partner, torture. This time, he DOES show up and is violent.

The bell’s chime had been nonstop all morning. It seemed the door to the cafe never completely closed, a new wave of customers coming through just as another group was leaving. Every booth and stool was full, along with most of the standing room. The chatter of conversation was a pleasant hum, along with the clink of mugs, plates, and coins. 

Occasionally, it was punctuated with a laugh or a light whistle. Steam from fresh coffee and baked goods wafted through the air, encouraging customers to order more. At the rate they were going, there wouldn’t be time to restock before the truck came. 

At least everyone was pleasant, and their tips reflected that. While most of the newcomers appeared to be from the Asmodeus district, judging by their attire, they were like any other patron, wanting to relax and unwind. Although there was the familiar flash of flirtation in their tone and expression as they ordered. 

Although no concubi at least. 

As Elle wove through the morning rush, nimbly balancing a tray and its contents. Her cheeks hurt from the constant smile she had to keep on, and her throat was starting to become raw with the constant small talk and greetings to the newcomers. And if she talked softer than a shout, the customers had a hard time hearing her. 

She barely managed to set her burden down on the front counter when a wave of fatigue hit. Her hands shook with the effort, and she felt the room start to spin. The ache from her feet suddenly began to spread to joints and shoulders. Taking a deep breath, she resisted the urge to shiver as a chill went up her spine. 

As the gooseflesh spread, Elle began to rub her eyes. Jaw clenched, she went to grab her coat from the back room. The few steps made the dizziness worse, and she instead put a hand on the counter, trying to make her lean look casual. 

One of the demons at the back booth caught her eye, and gave a crooked smile. While he appeared human, the power thrumming through him sent a vibration through her. A few light touches when he was passing over payment had sent a heat through her. As he did so, markings betraying his true form began to swirl across his face and hands. 

“Rookie,” Horac’s voice snapped her back to reality. Looking over her shoulder, she saw him through the kitchen window. He beckoned her over with two fingers. 

Slowly, Elle shuffled over, the motion making the room tilt side to side. Her steps slowly, she made it to the sink, making a show of looking at the ground like she was trying to avoid slipping on the floor. 

“What are-” 

Elle flinched when he put his massive palm on her brow. It was still damp and smelled like soap, so at least he’d washed it. 

Scowling, she grabbed his wrist and tried to pry it off, but he simply shifted his stance and locked his elbow. The motion nearly knocked her off balance, and she dropped her hands to grab onto the side of the sink. 

In a battle of weight, Elle knew she would lose, so she stood still and let his hand rest against her forehead. After a few seconds, he sighed. Shaking his head, ears slapping noisily with the motion, the boarman pinched the bridge of his snout. 

“You’re burning up,” He grumbled matter of factly, then adding further comment under his breath. “And you look clammy.” 

“Am not!” Elle ducked out from under his hand. The motion made the immediate area go sideways and she reeled into a wall. After barely managing to put her hands on it to brace herself, she slowly headed toward the open back door. 

The scent of Wrecks’ smoke break hung in the air. Putting a hand over her mouth, she resisted the urge to wretch. The drider turned to face her, quirking a brow. 

“I just spent the last three days looking after the girls while they were sick,” Horac lectured as he stacked dishes, then began to arrange the plates on the other side of the sink. “You might have gotten it from me. I felt fine, but…” 

He gestured to his form. It figured that he wouldn’t have to worry about the same Illnesses as humans, but then again, Asmodues likely hadn’t been so kind when inflicting his Ire on Horac.  

“I’m not sick!” Elle protested, lingering in the doorway. The cold chill was back, although it had moved from her back to stomach. Sick meant missing work. And with the apartment so close, she wouldn’t entertain the idea. All she had to do was pull through until closing, then she could spend the night and next day recovering. 

She took her menu and began to fan away the cloud of smoke rolling toward her as Wrecks’ sheepishly grinned and shuffled further away. 

“Besides, the rush isn’t over yet.”  

Grumbling, Horac sighed and slowly brought his hand across his snout. When he dropped it, his face was stern, tusks seeming to protrude more than normal. 

“ Elle .” 

The single syllable made her stand up straight. Worse than if he had used her full Name. 

Rolling his ear between his thumb and forefinger, Horac paused and seemed to mentally prepare himself. After a moment, he sighed dramatically and shook his head. 

“You will go home and rest, or I will call Ramses and tell him you’re working while you have a fever, and then he can come down here and tell you what to do.” His face softened, his ears drooping as his eyes became sympathetic. It would have been adorable if it wasn’t the punctuation of a scolding. 

“If you're sick, you need to go home. Or at least not be around the food.” He pointedly looked at the collection of Purgatory Pasties on the plate in front of him, pulling them away when Elle reached for the tray. 

The scowl of disappointment made her feel worse than any words he could have scolded her with. Despite the protests building up, ready to burst, she pushed them back down. Resting her hand on the corner of the table, she put her weight on it. A wave of dizziness hit and she resisted the urge to shiver or waver. 

“I’m not your parent,” Horac’s voice sounded like it was so far away, despite him only being a few feet from her. “but I can’t have you getting customers sick. You know Ramses will take care of you if money is what you’re worried about.” 

Elle hoped that the heat rising to her cheeks wasn’t too noticeable. At least she could blame it on the fever. If word got back to Ramses about the fever and her working while sick, he’d be blowing up her phone. Then he’d probably show up at her place, one thing would lead to another and… 

The stubbornness to continue rose back up. Biting the inside of her cheek, Elle tried to swallow it back down. This wasn’t going to go her way, and she knew it. And the last thing she needed to do was face down Ramses. They had been getting along so well… 

Then, the coppery tang of blood pooled in her mouth. The taste made her stomach flip and she rushed outside, barely making it out of the doorway when she began to vomit. 

“Shepard!” Wrecks dropped his cigarette and rushed to her side. After a few seconds of gesturing wildly, he took her hair and held it back until she finished puking. His forelegs steadied her as she straightened. 

The world around her was blurry, and she felt chills and aches start to spread through her entire body. A white square flashed in front of her face, and she realized that it was Wrecks offering her a handkerchief, which she used to wipe her mouth. 

“So… I may be sick.” She groaned and pulled out her phone. Should she call Aki and crash at his place until she could at least walk straight? But if she got him sick, then he’d be missing work too. Not to mention his home likely wasn’t stocked with human friendly food. Even at her healthiest, the demonic food would make her ill. 

Horac offered her a glass of water, which she used to wash out her mouth. When she took a sip, her whole body heaved and she found herself ready to puke again. 

Putting her phone away, she stumbled to her car. The fatigue hit all at once, and Elle found herself falling against the vehicle. Thankfully, her windows didn’t break. But she caught a glimpse of her reflection. 

Even in the translucent face staring back at her, she could see that she was shivering, her face pale, and it looked like she’d run a mile in the short distance it took to get back to the clunker. 

“What’s the matter, Rare Human of the Mammon District?” A voice sneered. “Find yourself eating something you shouldn’t have?” 

Elle looked over her shoulder to see Tanpopo, dressed in a thick robe, with fur on the hem. His tail swished behind him, his ears twitching as the breeze brought a new sound his way. Amber eyes glowed in the morning light, fangs flashing mischievously behind full lips. 

“How brave, coming here when I’m all by myself.” Elle grumbled, feeling ready to collapse. “What, are you not getting a kick out of planting those little bomb boys in the cafe anymore?” 

“Ramses stole from me, so it’s only fair I make him a little miserable and lose something in return,” The kitsune shrugged. 

Elle stiffened, reaching for her phone. 

“Relax, if you think I’m stupid enough to try and harm you in the street–”

“I do. And I’ll call Horac out here. Or Ramses. He’s been wanting to–” 

Tanpopo put a hand to his chest like he’d been wounded. However, the smirk never left his face. His eyes closed and he tilted his head to the side, sniffing as he got closer to Elle. 

Weakly, she held up a hand to keep the fox from getting too close. 

“You’ve been a busy girl,” His ears twitched, close enough to send a light breeze into Elle’s face. “A demon Prince, huh? You’re certainly popular.” 

“Fuck off.” Elle felt a wave of nausea and wondered if it would be worth fighting. 

How Powerful was Ash’s magic that Tanpopo could smell it? 

The ticket had been in her purse all this time, with Elle ready to use it and head back to the club. Or wherever the Demon sent her running. The thought of any physical activity made her feel woozy. 

The kitsune’s hair suddenly stood on end, his tail puffing up. He shifted to a wide legged stance. Elle took a few stumbling steps backward, before slamming into something solid. 

Wrecks was behind her. His freezing hand felt good against her burning brow. His eyes narrowed as he studied her, before he sighed deeply. 

When she looked back to where Tanpopo had been there was only a puff of smoke. 

“Did you see him?” 

Nodding, Wrecks offered her his scarf. As he wound it around Elle’s neck, the back of his hand brushed her cheeks. 

“You really are burning up.” Wrecks looked over his shoulder at the restaurant, his hand resting on her forehead again. It was a welcome sensation, so she wasn’t going to complain. “If I could drive, I’d take you home myself. And you really don’t want to be swinging around either…” 

He whined to himself, then finally dropped his hand. 

“You don’t want to be around me either,” Elle pushed him away. Or rather, tried to. She put her hands on his chest, but they shook as she tried to put any force behind them. “You’ll get sick too.” 

“Drider, Shepard,” Wrecks put a hand to his chest, seeming to swell with pride. His ears wiggled as he gave the smallest hint of a smile as he tucked the handkerchief away. “We don’t get the flu. You can hack and cough on me all you want, and I’ll just be disgusted. Although if you’re going to vomit again, try to do it next to me rather than directly on me.” ” 

Another wave of dizziness hit Elle, and her knees buckled. Wrecks yelped and managed to grab the back of her coat before she hit the ground. She grunted in protest, trying to steady herself again. Ears ringing, she felt a burning in her thigh.

When she tried to look down, she was scooped up and cradled by Wrecks. 

“I don’t want you driving in this state,” Wrecks said firmly. “What happens if you’re on the road and you pass out? Or you have to puke? Or…” 

“I get it,” Elle leaned against him as the world started to spin. “Just put me somewhere away from the customers until Horac closes up. I’ll hitch a ride home with him.” 

Hopefully, he wouldn’t get sick either. If he had been around the sick girls for three days and not caught something, then surely he wouldn’t in a short truck ride with Elle. Although she didn’t like how her luck could turn sometimes. 

Even if he could, the Boarman seemed to not care. 

“Such a dad…” She found herself grumbling as Wrecks began to move. Even though she knew he was trying to keep her steady, Elle clung tightly to him and tried to not puke as he headed back to the restaurant. 

***

Hushed voices woke her up. Despite being under what felt like layers of fabric, Elle shivered. Pulling the material closer, she started to curl into the fetal position. Even after a short nap, she still felt like crap. At least she’d had the foresight to wipe off her makeup before passing out, although Wrecks had to assist with such a simple action. 

The bell rang, and she started to sit up. She opened her mouth to give the normal greeting, but it was like her lips had been glued together. Tasting blood again, she ran her tongue across them. It felt like sandpaper. She wasn’t sure if it was saliva or something else dribbling down her chin.   

“We’re closed, Shepard, you don’t need to greet the customers.” Wreck’s voice was gentle as a hand pressed to her forehead. It was like a hot iron had touched her skin. 

Elle was amazed there wasn’t a hiss or the stench of burning flesh. Wrenching away, she became even more tangled in the coats covering her and simply flopped to the other side of the couch. 

Wincing apologetically, Wrecks held a cup of water to her mouth. It stung when it touched her chapped lips, and on the way down. She tried to not guzzle, but once the first drop touched her tongue, a wave of relief followed. 

“How’s she looking?” Aki’s voice was faint, followed by footsteps. He came up the loft stairs, hopping on the coffee table and perching behind Wrecks so he could still see her. His ears twitched, tail thrashing as his eyes flicked over Elle, seeming to take in every detail that he could. 

“Still pretty clammy,” Horac was right next to her. “I ran down to the store and got her some cold medicine. She managed to keep it down, but…” His voice trailed off as his nostrils flared, snorting noisily. 

“Just take me home,” Elle groaned, trying to shrug off the pile of clothing on her. “I’ll be okay after I sleep this off.” 

Horac sighed as he offered his hand to Elle. Taking it, she winced at how chilly it felt. The bristles over his skin felt like needles digging into her palm. 

When she stood, the world went sideways. Horac managed to steady her, clamping tightly over her wrists.

Reeling, Elle stumbled as a tingling sensation went up her leg. Despite her best efforts, the floor connecting with the sole of her foot didn’t seem to register. Knees buckling, she knelt on the carpet, resting her cheek against the coffee table. 

Aki’s tail thumped against her fingers as he shifted to kneel next to her. 

“I don’t know if you’ll be able to make it back to your place,” Aki stroked her cheek as he spoke. Perhaps it was the feverish state, but there seemed to be a lot of concern on the Cat Boy’s face as he looked at her. He leaned forward, like he was about to kiss her. 

“What’s on her leg?” Wrecks scrambled to adjust his stance. 

The pins and needles started to spread up Elle’s body. Shifting, she looked down at her skirt. Even with the dark colored tights, she could see a mark curling up her thigh and making its way down her calf. 

Lifting up the fabric, she saw it was starting to wind up her pelvis. It was hard to make out the specific symbols, as they kept swirling and blurring. Something about it seemed familiar… But she couldn’t place it as the flu fog began to creep back over her mind. 

“Tanpopo?” Aki asked, ears pressing flat against his head. Eyes gleaming, his tail thumped noisily against the coffee table. 

“This is a terrible prank, even for him.” Wrecks looked worried, forelegs rubbing together. He grabbed his pack of cigarettes, seemed to realize he’d have to leave if he smoked, and just clung to them. “But these look more like Infernal.” 

“Spinner’s right,” Horac was intentionally keeping his gaze locked on the wall, hands shoved into his apron pocket. “That's Asmodeus’ symbol. It was all over Temptation, I can recognize it at a glance. Although Rookie, I would appreciate it if you put your skirt down.” 

If it was Asmodues’ mark… 

Dropping the skirt, Elle took in a deep breath, fumbling for her phone. Scrolling through her calls, she finally found Ash’s number. After a few missed presses, she felt her stomach flip as it began to dial. Each ring seemed to stretch out further and further, growing louder. 

There was a loud buzzing as the Incubus picked up. For a moment, Elle thought she heard Infernal screaming. Elle flinched from the noise, hands clapping over her ears as she twisted the phone speaker away from them. The device heated up, and for a moment, Elle feared that it would melt or break. 

“I was wondering when you’d finally take the initiative and call first.” Ash’s breathing was labored, like the Incubus had just run a marathon. There was no playfulness or banter in his tone, the smile completely absent from his voice. 

“I think you’re aware of the recent changes to your body,” Ash continued, the strain of leather followed, then a loud crack.

Elle swallowed at the sound, feeling a chill go through her body. Despite the noise and the clear predatory tone to the demon’s voice, she found herself unable to pull away or give him anything less than her undivided attention. 

Setting the phone down, Elle wordlessly pushed the speaker button. 

There was a moment of silence, before another loud crack followed. The phone buzzed, shaking the entire table. 

Wrecks and Aki flinched. Horac mumbled something and rubbed his face, bracing against the wall. 

“Apologies for not reaching out sooner,” Ash had gotten his wind back, and his tone was more level. “but I had to make sure that a certain unruly individual was reminded of his place before being sent back to it.” 

Elle’s breath caught in her throat. Emotions warred, and she clenched her jaw to keep from crying out (even weakly) or to let the questions spill from her lips like a sputtering faucet. 

“Anyway, I know it’s a long trek, but I do have your boyfriend. As I said previously, you must be present for the ritual, even with the Favor given to you. The illness should fade in a day or two, but if you want to sever this tie sooner rather than later, you know where to find me.” 

There was a beep. ‘ Call Ended ’ flashed across the screen. Elle’s phone sparked, a strange power humming from it before the tech finally gave up. 

Dropping it on the coffee table, she stared at the device. The glass had cracked, and smoke was pouring out of the space between the case and phone. 

“Is there any way I can get you to drive me to the Asmodeus district?”

She must have looked pathetic enough, because Horac’s ears drooped. He swayed side to side, looking almost ready to say yes.

“The cafe is closed tomorrow. The bar opens in a few hours.” The Boarman drummed his fingers on his massive forearm. “You’re going to want someone who’s ready for what’s down there.”  

“I’ll drive her then,” Aki picked up Elle’s purse. “It’s not like I’m going to church.” 

“No!” Wrecks and Elle yelled in unison.  

“Horac is clearly the better choice,” Wrecks hissed. “He’s worked out there, been around Ash and Asmodeus, you–” 

“It’s not like you’re going to go,” Aki rolled his eyes at Wrecks, tossing the purse back onto the couch behind Elle. “You’d probably combust once you got to the border.” 

“I am more than capable of handling myself, thank you.” Wrecks crossed his arms and forelegs, all his eyes narrowing. “Frankly, my perceived moral compass is less important than getting Adrian away from Elle.” 

Aki’s fur stood on end, but went flat when Elle put a hand on his arm. Ears drooping, he nodded, giving her fingers a quick squeeze. She could see his jaw clench and had a feeling the car ride was going to be awkward. 

“You guys don’t have to come.” Elle insisted. “If I could drive, I’d do it by myself–” 

“I don’t have to, but I want to,” Wrecks insisted, lacing his fingers together and setting them on top of his forelegs. “I saw what just a projection of him did to you. I can only imagine what it’s going to be like seeing him in person.” 

He smiled. “Besides, Shepard, you’re my friend. This is the kind of thing we do for each other.” 

Aki let go of her hand. “I don’t know who this Adrian guy is, but I know that look all too well. And I know a demon contract when I see it.” He ruffled Elle’s hair and gave a feline grin, “So don’t worry, I’ll do what I can.” 

“First thing’s first.” Wrecks said firmly, managing to tear his eyes away from the display and holding up a finger. “We have to tell Ramses–”

“Better to ask forgiveness than ask permission,” Horac held up his phone and waved it, before heading down the stairs. “Everyone going, pile into the truck. We’ve got a three hour drive and only a bit of time before the moon rises.” 

Pausing, he looked Wrecks up and down. 

“On second thought Spinner, you’re going to want to be in the flatbed.” 

***

The ride was mostly smooth, despite the speedometer’s needle climbing. Horac’s eyes were glued to the road, his grip on the steering wheel making his whole body go taut. 

Pressing her brow to the cool glass, Elle tried to not look at the world whipping past, as too much movement was starting to make her nauseous. 

But when she closed her eyes, the pain in her leg started to flare up. It was a throbbing and a burning that twisted back and forth. What was being done to Adrian that was making his magic act like this? And from so far away? 

Aki was in the back seat, occasionally popping his head forward to look at Elle. After the third time, Horac released his death grip on the steering wheel to snatch the Cat Boy’s wrist. 

“Unless she’s throwing up or I’m at a stop, sit down and wear your seat belt,” Horac gave a warning squeeze, Aki’s hand turning white. 

“But I-” 

“I will turn this truck around,” Horac tossed Aki’s hand back. 

Making an annoyed sound, Aki sat and spready himself across the seats, shoes pressed against the window. Despite his scowl, his ears drooped and his eyes gleamed with worry. His tail thumped against the back window, drawing Wrecks’ attention. 

“ Properly sit down. I don’t want you breaking your legs if I get into a wreck.” 

Wind whipped through the truck as the middle back window squeaked open. Wrecks poked his head in, his spectacles fogging up from the temperature change. 

“How long until we’re there?” 

“We’re getting close to the border,” Horac fiddled with the radio, frowning as the music playing started to devolve into static. “And it looks like we’re going into a high magic place. Everyone hang tight.” 

Glancing in the rear view mirror, Elle saw Wrecks frown. The steam started to dissipate from the lenses, and she could see his eyes glitter with worry. 

He and Aki shared a concerned look, before Wrecks slowly pulled his head back out, leaving the window open just a crack. The whipping of the wind was soothing, and Elle felt herself starting to doze off. 

She saw a flash of a circle. It glowed pink, showing a prostrate figure in the center. Magenta manacles wrapped around ankles and wrists, keeping them kowtowed. Symbols curled up bare skin, fading into crimson. 

Slowly, its head shifted and a watery eye peered out at her. 

Horac’s hand lightly brushed her arm. 

She was back in the truck. Her leg throbbed. Even through her tights, she could see the mark was spreading down her calf and vanishing into her shoes. Everything was pulsing. Windows and the engine rattled, the conversation between Wrecks and Aki warbled, like a car radio with the bass turned up too loud. 

“Rookie,” Horac’s voice cut through the cacophony, his tone gentle, but warning. 

“I know this is a Favor with a capital F, but it’s still going to hurt. You’ll have to have a stand in or vessel for the Princes. It’s not going to be a picnic. I’m sure Spinner and Newbie would help you in a heartbeat… But with just us… -” 

Elle nodded, barely able to keep her eyes open as a fog started to wrap around her mind. If being around Ash was anything to go by, then she was going to have to deal with probably the worst case of the Concubi Lust she’d ever had. Her stomach heaved at the thought. Even if she was completely healthy, it would have put a huge burden on her body and soul.

“When Asmodeus inflicted his Ire upon me, it put me in the hospital right after I got out. I felt my bones and body break apart as I took on the new form, even with all the Healers attending to me after it happened, it took me forever to feel ‘right’ again. This is severing a bond with a Demon, you’ll likely be out of work for a while. And that’s assuming Lover Boy lets go without a fight. There’s going to be a lot of Power flying around the room. You might see a side of everyone you’re not ready to. Being so close to so much…” He looked in the rearview mirror. 

“Even with a level head, you’re going to be Tempted.” 

Swallowing, Elle nodded. The words stuck in her throat. One stupid thing she’d done had followed her for this long. To have it about to finally be gone… She wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved, happy, sorrow, or maybe a mix of everything. 

“I’ve done so much to get away from him,” Elle reached for the bottle of water Horac had grabbed for her in the cup holder. Her hands shook as she managed to unscrew it and press it to her lips. When it touched her tongue, her stomach threatened to rebel again. Steeling herself, she swallowed it down. 

“One last bit of pain is worth living in peace.” 

As if on cue, the radio crackled again, smooth jazz playing. A singer purred some sort of melody that Elle couldn’t place. She let the tune guide her into a more relaxed state, but she had a feeling that she wouldn’t be getting any rest until this was all over.  

***

The streets were empty as the truck barreled down them. Power crackled through the air. The radio buzzed, the soft music devolving into static. 

Elle couldn’t help but feel her cheeks burn at the sight of a billboard, advertising Miss Lamb. She was sitting on a throne made of concubi, wearing a few strips of fabric to cover her nipples and groin. Dark marks went up her thigh and abdomen. She leaned back into the throne, head slightly inclined, ready to meet the lips of the man behind her. 

Come find me…  

Behind that was a billboard reading Temptation in call caps. 

“This broadcast is brought to you by Asmodeus, the Prince of Lust, the Oldest Sin, the-” 

With clumsy fingers, Horac turned the volume all the way down. A few sputtering sounds warbled from the speaker, before finally dying out. It hummed softly, the tuning needle moving back and forth, as if trying to find it again. 

“It’s a lot more tame than I thought,” Aki commented as he shifted in the back seat, neck swiveling to follow another advertisement for the club. He looked almost disappointed at the lack of... Whatever he was expecting. Pressing against the window, he squinted and tilted his head to the side. 

“Where is everyone?” 

“What, were you expecting an orgy at the border just continuing until the other end?” Horac asked, not taking his eyes off the road. There was an edge to his voice as he looked around, head on a swivel. 

For a moment, Elle thought the steering wheel would warp under his grip. 

Aki pointedly gestured to the passing billboards with a raised brow. 

“I think you’re old enough to not believe everything you see on ads.” 

“You’d think that there would be… Anyone in the streets.” Wrecks commented, poking his head in the back window. “Was it like this the last time you were here?” 

Elle wordlessly shook her head as Horac’s shoulders started to raise. His whole body was rigid as they focused on the road ahead, the speedometer dipping lower as the vehicle slowed to a crawl. 

As they pulled up to “Temptation”, Elle felt a hot flash go through her. Rather than feeling arousal, her stomach flipped. With shaking hands, she took another swig from the water bottle. 

It was strange seeing the club without all the lights and people in front. The zeppelin still flew around in a slow circle. As it moved, there was a crackle of Power coming from the top of the stadium. Quite a few bouncers were at the entrance, their faces impossible to read. Occasionally, a person came up to talk, but they were ignored or shooed off. 

There was a change in the air, and Elle’s purse suddenly felt a lot heavier. 

Opening it, she saw the ticket that Ash had originally given her. Months of wear and tear had rendered it almost unrecognizable. It was thrumming with energy. The outline of the Incubus’ lips had gone from pink to red with black lines. As it smoldered, she took it out of the purse. 

Pins and needles went up her arm. The windows began to fog up as heat started to circulate in the car. 

Come find me, at Temptation… 

“I think we just need to go in the front this time.”  

Once she opened the car door, the air became heavy. Shuffling out, Elle leaned against the flatbed. She held the hood of her coat tightly closed with one hand, the battered ticket with the other. The paper crumpled in her grip, more spikes of power began to pulse out. 

Taking a few shaky steps forward, Elle could feel the weight of the energy of the air start to increase as she began to get closer to the threshold. Something was different about it. Pink sparked through the air, and the scent of mint and lavender fluttered around her. 

Taking a deep inhale, Elle closed her eyes and let it wash over her. 

A large rippling orc came over without a word, his tight black shirt about ready to rip with inhale. He didn’t even take the ticket, just stepped aside for Elle, but held up a hand as the rest of the group started to follow. 

“They’re my friends,” Elle said firmly, although the world continued to tilt and spin as she spoke. Her voice was no doubt all over the place, wavering and weak despite her attempted resolve. “They’re coming too.” 

A cobalt skinned demon slunk forward, a tapered tail whipping back and forth with an audible crack. 

“This ticket is only good for one,” The demon said, his voice slick like oil. “You were the only person needed to be present for the ritual.” 

“She can barely stand on her own!” Aki protested, standing next to Elle. His warmth against her made her skin itch, like all the moisture had been sucked from it, if he pushed too hard, she’d crack open into a husk. “You think she’s going to be able to perform any sort of magic in this state?” 

“The rules–”

“With all due respect,” Wrecks was towering over them. The windblown hair fell down in a shaggy mane, the lenses of his spectacles gleaming in the streetlights. If Elle had only known him at a glance, it would have been downright intimidating.

“It’s often a group that needs to perform a ritual, right? Especially if the other Princes aren’t present?” 

The Orc sized Wrecks up, before something buzzed on his belt. Pulling a walkie talkie free, he held it up as Infernal crackled through the device. Judging by his reaction, whoever was speaking was scolding him. 

With an irritated sigh, he rumbled something back, before nodding apologetically. 

The velvet rope was lifted, and they walked inside.

Even though it was the same building as before, the cement halls seemed cold and empty. The outside air stirred the posters and flyers on the billboards, but their colors were dull and faded compared to what they had been the night she first visited. There was no music or murmur of conversation, just the sounds of footsteps echoing. 

 Elle’s breath came out in a fog. The hum of power grew louder as they were led to the party room. The demon and orc stopped at a pair of double doors. Pink flashed under them, followed by rattling as an infernal screech reverberated off the wood. The ticket ignited, cotton candy colored wisps covering the arches. 

As runes and symbols lit up, a blush colored film covered the doors as they creaked open. The barrier stayed in place, the mark of Asmodeus forming. 

What had gotten her into this mess in the first place. If only she’d studied harder… 

Swallowing, Elle took another step forward. The Power reached for her, calling out. Begging her to take it. Make it hers. Become the warlock she was always meant to be. 

No, she needed to stay in control.

Focus. 

Reaching toward the rune, she lightly touched her finger to it. Smoke curled under the tip, her vision blurring as she blinked back tears. The symbol wound its way around her wrist and arm, linking with the other half on her leg. She watched the marks spread across her skin. 

Bound with blood, not power. 

Passing through the barrier was like wading through jello. Each step was slow, and sapping more strength from Elle. It felt like she’d walked up a mountain just to go through the doorway. 

Inside, a pink circle had been drawn. Spotlights were focused on the figure in the middle, chained tight to the floor. The restraints had few links, offering no slack to the bound one. 

Ash stood over him. His horns were longer, tapering to a point. The flaming crown that had nestled between them had grown in size. The markings covering his body were bright, power coursing through him. Eyes flashed with hunger as he looked at Elle, lips pulled back to show his fangs. 

He was bare chested, but wore a floor length fur coat and leather pants. 

“So good of you to join,” As he spoke, a ring of pink pulsed from his iris, rippling to the edge of his eye. “Here I thought he’d give out before then.” 

“Elodie…” A pitiful voice whimpered. It wavered too much, no power in the word. Fingers weakly grasped the open air. Shaking arms tried to move, but the restraints dug in. 

Adrian Ashborn laid sprawled out on the floor, bruises mottling his skin. Blood dripped from his brow, where one of his flesh colored horns had been broken off. Fresh cuts and wounds tore open further as he tried to break free, not even rattling the chains. Even in his bound state, with movements restrained to almost immobility, he jerked and pulled. 

Despite everything, Elle almost ran to him. 

His eyes locked with hers, and she stopped, a chill up her spine freezing her in place. Goosebumps covered her skin as memories warred. The good, the bad, and the ugly. Laughter and sighs turning into screams and arguing. Her stomach flipped as she clenched her fists. 

“Good thing you stopped where you did,” Ash stood in front of her, his body blocking the mangled sight. He was holding a knife, not unlike the one she’d used to channel so long ago.

The pink marks on his skin were red at the edges, the heat starting to burn the Incubus. If he felt pain, Ash was good at hiding it. 

“I think you of all people know what happens when a circle breaks.” 

He looked back at Adrian. There was no laughter or warmth in his eyes. Just pure… Loathing. Elle took a step back as Adrian’s thumb went up the knife’s handle. 

“Come on Ash, enough with the theatrics.” Horac came between Elle and the incubus. Even thought he was trying to look relaxed, his shoulders were still raised, his hand turned to Elle, ready to push her back at a moment’s notice. 

“At this rate you’ll kill her before you can do anything.” 

Ash’s eyes flicked to Adrian, before he sighed and shrugged. An exhausted laugh escaped him, and he ran his free hand down his face. 

“You’re lucky to have escaped my Ire once, don’t test me further.” 

Aki’s ears were flat against his head as he clutched Elle’s hand tight. Fur standing on end, he did his best to avoid making eye contact as Ash began to move around the circle, drawing out symbols with his boot and the tip of the knife. 

“I will admit, I was worried that you were gone for good,” Ash admitted. “Or that you were going to leave me with the biggest set of blue balls regarding this whole thing. But I’m glad I was able to tempt you back.” 

As he crossed the circle, Ash knelt next to Adrian, seizing him by the hair and forcing him to look up at Elle. The handsome face twisted with pain, showing broken teeth. Tears streamed out of one eye, the other too swollen shut to do much. 

“You might think me cruel,” He said, although Elle wasn’t sure if he was talking to her or Adrian. “But this is what was asked of me. The weaker he is, the easier it is to break the bond.” 

Wrecks flinched away from the sight, rubbing his arms. His foreleg rested on Elle’s shoulder as he stayed between her and Ash as the incubus crossed to the other side, drawing another rune. 

“What if you had killed me?” Elle asked, feeling her blood run cold. 

“You think I’m that sloppy?” Ash shook his head. “Have some faith in me, Miss Shepard.” He drew the last symbol, before beckoning. 

Cadence floated down from the rafters, grey feathers littering the ground around him. He gave Elle a sad smile, before snapping to attention when Ash came close. 

“A circle to contain,” Ash held up one finger, the rest awkwardly wrapped around the knife. After a few one handed grip changes, he managed to lift another. 

“And a circle to do the ritual in. You think that will be enough, Miss Shepard?” He gestured to the full moon above. “The amount of energy needed will be more than provided.” 

Reluctantly, Elle nodded. Adrian moaned in pain again, trying to pull himself free. A discordant scream escaped him when Ash put a boot between his shoulders and pressed down. It didn’t take much effort, and he didn’t seem to be pushing hard, but the scream was one of pure agony. 

“Adrian Ashborn, you escaped me once. Bound by blood, your master has decided to end your bond. A Favor she has earned, and it will be repaid.” 

The knife clattered at Elle’s feet. She reached down and picked it up. The symbols twisting around her hand glowed with power. 

Cadence began to move across the ground with chalk to draw the outer circle. Once it closed, all the magic wouldn’t be able to escape until it was broken again. 

“We need seven for each Demon Prince,” Elle said softly, the memories of her school days coming back. She pointed to the area furthest from her, behind Ash. 

“Belphegor goes back there.” 

“Figures Prince of Sloth is furthest away,” Aki grumbled as he walked over without being told. The symbol glowed under him.  

“Why Belphegor?” Elle asked. 

“Lazy demon, lazy cat.” Aki’s ears twitched. “He speaks to me.” He gave a toothy grin and a thumbs up, tail swishing with excitement. “Told ya we would make a good pair as a witch and her black cat.” 

Elle couldn’t look at him, her cheeks burning. 

“Leviathan should be right next to you.” Elle pointed to the right, keeping her eyes on the floor. “Getting a good view of the caster but not close enough to do anything.” 

There were light steps. 

Wrecks stood on the symbol, looking down as power thrummed. He seemed intrigued, but stayed quiet, offering Elle a thumbs up with a raised brow, which she nodded at. 

“Satan is to the left.” 

“Strongest will probably need someone who can take a beating.” Horac went to the rune, not even flinching as the power whipped at his feet. 

“I suppose yours truly will have to stand on Asmodeus?” Ash preened as he spoke, not taking his foot off Adrian’s back. 

Elle shot him a look. “No, I’d rather you not. You being his right hand…” Her voice trailed off as she looked to Cadence, who was scribbling another line on the floor.

But Asmodeus had been the one who she’d struck a deal with to do this favor…  

Ash pouted, his old self coming through in the expression. His lips pursing looked perfectly kissable, the tip of his tongue peeking out, offering other activities it could be useful–

He was getting to her. 

Elle looked down at her feet, staring at the glowing mark. When she stepped next to it, the power vibrated through the air as the two energies warred. 

“You’ll be Beelzebub. If Temptation is anything, it’s excess…” She looked at Cadence, who looked like he was almost finished. The Siren paused in his drawing, giving Elle a reassuring smile. 

The tension in the air was starting to get worse. 

“Cadence can be Asmodeus, since he performs here. I’ll be Mammon since I was so–” 

“Greedy?” 

The voice made her whirl around. 

Ramses was at the doorway, not even phased by the threshold. The glowing from his chest was even brighter in the dark night. The orc and demon at the door didn’t even try to stop him. 

The ichor dripping off him formed puddles on the floor. His cheeks were flushed, breathing labored as he locked eyes with Elle. 

“How’d you get here so fast?” She nearly dropped the knife in disbelief. Sure, she’d expected he’d come after getting the message, but to be so hot on their heels? 

He walked up to her, holding up a hand. For a moment, it looked like he was going to cup her cheek, but he stared at the mess forming around him and dropped it. 

“I got the message and decided to… Get here.” His eyes darted around the room as he took everything in, before he scowled at Ash. “Do you think I’d stay away from something like this?” 

It did look like he’d just rolled out of bed. His hair was a mess, his glasses askew, and his clothes still wrinkled despite the no doubt expensive fabric they were likely made of. Maybe if Elle got a good whiff of his breath, she’d get the halitosis smell. 

“Well, had I known you were going to show up, I would have called everyone else.” Ash crossed his arms. “What brings you here?” 

“A Favor,” Ramses replied nonchalantly, before stepping past Cadence, who paused at the last part of the circle. 

“Once he closes it…” Ash warned, his voice trailing off as he glowered at Adrian squirming. Sweat beaded down his forehead as he shook with repressed rage, muscles going taut as he prepared to kick Adrian Adrian again.  

“I know,” Ramses offered no room for argument. “You still need a Lucifer. And I… Take Pride in taking care of my employees.” 

He smiled at his own words, and Ash groaned and scoffed. The incubus rolled his eyes, before looking at Elle expectantly. 

“You sure?”

Nodding, Elle tried to keep from grinning ear to ear. She wasn’t sure about Ramses’ skill with magic, but there was no doubt Power coming off him and thrumming in the air. 

There was a snap as Cadence closed the circle. Pink light danced above them as energy began to run along the edges of the circle, attempting to escape. Ash stood on Elle’s right, and Ramses on her left. 

Everyone stepped on their respective symbols. The channeling knife grew hot in Elle’s hands, the runes lighting up as the magic in the air was drawn to it. 

“Adrian Ashborn,” Ash said, his voice barely audible over the Power roaring in Elle’s ears. Wind whipped through the air, stirring his hair and causing it to cling to his lips. “Through blood you are bound, and through blood you are released. A being of Asmodeus, you are to be thrown into his circle until your soul is cleansed.” 

The air grew unbearably hot. Sweat trickled down Elle’s brow and upper lip, and her clothes felt tight. The material was like a scouring pad against her skin, and she could see chafing between the gaps in the fabric. Standing with her legs apart, she extended her arms outward toward the inner circle. 

Once the tip of the knife touched the edge, energy began to spiral around the blade. It corkscrewed into Adrian’s binding, which began to glow red with heat. He screamed, the marks spreading across his body, going from flesh to even teeth and the whites of his eyes.

“Through Lust you gain strength, through release you gain power. Now through Lust you grow weak, and through release you gain impotence.” Ash continued, his eyes darkening. “Reverse your nature, and break this contract.” 

He whipped his head toward Elle. 

“Be ready.” 

An instant later, pain became the world. The burn on her thigh became an insatiable white hot inferno. Energy sliced at her, the fragments shattering and becoming shrapnel. Gripping the knife tight, she thrust it forward into the blinding light, sparks and flashes filling her vision. 

Then, the screaming started. 

Not from Adrian, but from Aki. 

The Cat Boy was on all fours, pink embers clinging to his fur as the symbols began to twist up his body. He slapped an open hand against the ground, burying his face into the crook of his elbow as it began to spread further. A few tears sizzled as they hit the ground. 

Tail tucked between his legs, he clawed at the ground and tore up chunks of wood, but managed to not break the circle. 

Wrecks tried to hold out, but the black symbol of Arachne glowed as the runes of Asmodeus began to overtake it. Smoke curled up past his face and he finally let out a cry of agony, venom dribbling down his chin as he body prepared to fight off a foe that wasn’t visible.  

Wait… Why were they being harmed? This was only supposed to affect Adrian… 

Wrecks’ eyes bulged and his legs gave out. He hit the ground hard, but managed to keep from breaking the inner circle. Hands shaking, he looked at Elle with an apologetic expression, tears streaming down his cheeks. 

Cadence clutched his chest and throat, his mouth opening in a silent scream as choked gasps escaped. Feathers rapidly molted off his body, catching on fire as the energy came into contact with them. As more skin became exposed, she could see raised skin, pink with scarring against his olive and grey complexion. This likely wasn’t his first time being used as a Caster for such a ritual. 

He looked at Elle with watery eyes, then offered a shaky smile. 

“I’m fine, I promise.” 

The air around them shimmered and grew blurry.  

And for a split second, Cadence was standing upright, looking like he hadn’t just had a horrific amount of body twisting pain inflicted upon him. 

But the image became fuzzy, his hunched over form coming back into focus. 

Ramses’ arms sizzled with heat, the ichor bubbling and hitting the ground with a wet splat. Energy wrapped around him, but didn’t sink into his skin like it had everyone else. Closing one eye, he raised his hands. Cracks formed in his skin, the glow from his chest spreading. 

The black scales grew thick, starting to spread over his face. Gritting his teeth, the demon closed his fists, seizing the energy from the air. 

“That’s enough!” He snapped, clutching the magic tighter. Black continued to creep up his arms, flaking away when the heat from his chest flared up. “You’re going to kill everyone.” 

“The bond is deep,” Ash said, his tone flat. Although there was a hint of a smile as he watched Ramses struggle. “Through Lust indeed...” 

He stared at the marks as they twisted around his arm, constantly curling and uncurling. “It takes a lot to break it. The pain you’re feeling is nothing compared to what he is.” He nodded toward Adrian, who had finally quieted. “Once this is over, it will subside.” 

Gritting his teeth, Ramses reluctantly released the energy. It whipped through the air and struck Adrian. He slowly lifted his head, eyes flashing. 

“Can you keep it from hurting them?” Elle asked, feeling the pain start to ebb. Clutching the knife, she blinked back tears and took in a shaky breath. “They’re just trying to help. I know you can stop this.”

“They came into this with a warning.” Ash shrugged, reaching toward Elle. His nails lengthened as he got closer, the tips barely brushing against her arm. Goosebumps followed where they traced. 

The world began to slip away until only the circle and energy remained. 

“And you insisted. You’re connected to them through Lust…” Ash’s eyes were so deep, drawing her into their never ending abyss. She felt so light, like she was about to start flying. The energy started to flow through her, and she could feel more just past his lips. He could unlock so much Power… 

“But if you want to be the vessel of their pain, and the weakness–”  

“Elle,” Ramses warned, his hand on her shoulder. Black smeared on her shirt, dripping onto her bicep and elbow. “You don’t want to do that. Favors and Ire take a lot of us. Once this is over, he’s going to be weak and vulnerable. Remember he’s still a Demon, even if he’s doing you a ‘kindness’.”

There was a feral roar. It pierced through the air and found its way into Elle’s ears. A metallic snap followed. 

Whirling around back toward the circle, Elle saw Adrian was standing, his arms shaking. The chains hung loosely off his wrist, his whole body glowing pink. 

“Get away from her!” The voice sliced through the air. Adrian took an uncertain step forward, his knee giving out. Dropping to one knee, he glared at Elle and bore his teeth. Grabbing onto the links, he tore them off, breaking the cuff in the process. 

“I thought you said it was supposed to weaken him !” Elle took a step back, before feeling the energy of the outside circle vibrate behind her. The sensation brought her back completely, and the world became tinged with pink, Adrian growing brighter than ever, strands braiding them together. 

Shit . She couldn’t break the circle. 

“Elodie!” His voice was still shaky. “Please. I know I messed up. But don’t do this!” He slapped the barrier sprung up from the inner circle. Pink rippled from the impact. Tears streamed down his face, sparkling as they fell and hit the floor. 

“I’ll change. We can leave this all behind. Start over somewhere.” As he spoke, the energy wrapped around them both, twisting into a thick rope that wrapped around Elle’s thigh and Adrian’s waist. 

“You don’t have to work again. I’ll make sure of it. I know you’re on your feet all day and come home exhausted. I know you live in that crappy apartment and still drive that shitty car. I’ll get a job and do what I can to be a good patron this time.” He continued to beat on the barrier as he spoke, his voice distorting at each impact. 

“That’s what we were doing before! I’ll get you better clothes and we’ll have a nice place. I’ll treat you right. It’s not just Lust tying us together, it’s love!”  

Tears streamed down his face. For a heartbeat, Elle believed him. 

“I’m sorry, Adrian.” Elle shook her head. “But we’re not right for each other.” 

The glow turned into fire. It became so bright and hot that the incubus’ features melted away to make way for the light, leaving only his silhouette as proof he was still there. Adrian seized the magic, and air rushed out of Elle’s lungs. Light and dark warred as her vision started to go black. 

“Break the bond!” Ash yelled, his voice sounding like it was coming from the opposite end of the room. 

Clutching the knife tight, Elle stabbed downward at the rope connecting them. Sparks flew, each stab punctuated by a scream. Adrian’s begging and crying became screams of pain and anger, his beating on the barrier becoming more desperate. 

“He’s just trying to break us up to have you for himself!” Adrian cried out. “You can’t trust him, Elodie!” His voice warbled as he attempted to use her Name. 

Sawing at the energy, she saw white with each connection, pain searing up her hand and arm. Clenching her teeth, she put her weight into it, dropping to the ground. There was a loud buzz, and the knife shot from her hands, striking the barrier and slicing her fingers. 

Everything went silent, the light slowly fading. The knife clattered to the floor, sparks flying. It slowly skittered to a stop, glowing with heat. 

Rubbing her eyes, Elle waited for the throbbing to fade. Slowly, her eyes began to adjust as colors returned to normal. 

Adrian laid on the ground in a crumpled heap. After what felt like an eternity, his chest rose and fell, the wheeze that followed barely counting as a breath. 

The circles were burned into the cement floor, soot obscuring the symbols. 

Aki coughed, trying to rise to a crouch, before falling over. Horac helped him sit up, and the Cat Boy leaned against him. Taking deep breaths, he rubbed his arms and legs, as if trying to peel the markings off. They faded, and he sighed in relief. 

Wrecks’ legs were curled inward, and took a moment (and some light tugging) from Horac to straighten out. He sighed in relief, massaging each limb with practiced movements. His spectacles had fallen off during the ritual, and the lenses were cracked. Frowning, he slowly put them back on with shaking hands. 

Cadence sat up, arms wrapped around himself. His talons scraped at exposed skin, drawing out drops of crimson, but he seemed to not notice. He looked toward Ash, then back at Elle. 

Ramses put a hand to his chest, as if checking his heart rate. 

“The Bond is broken,” Ash casually stepped over the circle. It fizzled as the last remnants of energy ran their course. Not a hair was out of place or a single wrinkle in his clothing, but his footing seemed uncertain, his normal gait suddenly reeling. As he spoke, the markings covering his body began to retract and fade away. 

The glow that seemed to cover his skin was faded, his complexion and features looking… Less ethereal. 

Ash turned to the door. There was still a bit of Power and Energy clinging to it, creating a weak barrier. 

“The Favor has been repaid,” Ash called out, his voice reaching who he wanted to be heard by, no matter the distance. “I know my guests have a long drive back, so be sure to set up accommodation–” 

Adrian lurched forward, snatching the still glowing knife off the ground. Ash barely had lifted his foot up before the blade was buried up to the handle in his abdomen. He stared down at it in shock, fingers wrapping around the hilt. 

“Ash!” Elle shouted, heart jumping into her throat.  

“Well, call me Lucifer,” Ash croaked, staggering back, eyes wide.

Cadence jumped up, but his legs gave out again.  

Adrian turned to Elle, the Hunger in his eyes sending a wave over her. His whole body went rigid, ready to pounce and start chasing. The predatory glint was back. A black tongue flitted across his lips, and his teeth seemed to lengthen as saliva dripped down his lips. 

Stepping back, Elle tried to keep from falling over in her haste. 

Horac barreled over, slamming his shoulder into Adrian and sending him flying. The incubus landed on the floor, sliding back. After a few feet, he stopped. Glaring at Horac, he snarled and started to get back up. 

Standing between them, Horac squared his shoulders and drew himself up to his full height, hands clenched into fists. 

“What’s more important to you, the life of a Demon Prince or the safety of some warlock who got in over her head?” Adrian spat, taking a few wide strides toward Horac. He tried to look at Elle, but couldn’t change his path without Horac shifting to block it.  

“The bond is broken, you’re not her patron anymore.” Horac’s voice was eerily calm, but his head turned ever so slightly to Ash, who was using his coat to attempt to stop the bleeding. One hand went to the scar on his abdomen.

“Leave now and you might be able to hide for a bit before the Guardians get here. This is over . Don’t push your luck and get his Ire inflicted on you too. Just cooperate with the guard–”  

“I’m not leaving without Elodie!” Adrian snarled. “We’re bound by blood, and I will be here until every last drop is drained from her!” 

Running forward, the Incubus rammed right into Horac’s stomach, striking the palm of his heel into the scar from the Succubus. Horac’s face twisted in pain, and he dropped to one knee. With labored breaths, he attempted to grab and restrain Adrian, but his hands closed on the empty air. 

Adrian closed the distance between him and Elle so quickly. She tried to move, but her legs wouldn’t obey. 

“Adri-” Her voice shook. She sucked in a breath, trying to keep her heart from battering against her ribs and throat. “Adrian Ashborn!” 

The Name rang hollow. The Incubus hesitated and flinched, preparing for the binding. But when it didn’t come, he continued to make his way toward her. 

A twisted and rough hand reached for Elle, shimmering like quartz in the moonlight. Beautiful and magical, but would only do harm when it touched her. 

Then it was covered by an inky black substance as it collided with something solid. A wet smack echoed in the open air. Adrian’s eyes widened as the fluid began to spread up his arm. 

Ramses’ hand wrapped around Adrian’s fist. Baring his teeth, he shifted his stance so he could have more solid footing. 

“If you touch my employee, I will make what Asmodeus did to you seem like Hellspawn’s first day in the ring.” Ramses’ eyes narrowed, his glasses sliding down his nose and falling to the ground. The scaling continued to spread across his skin, along with the strange glowing cracks. “This is done .” 

The last word was tinged with an Infernal accent.

Adrian yanked his hand back, before swinging at Ramses’ head. The fist met horn and more cracks spread across Ramses’ face. 

Glass broke as Adrian shoved Ramses back. Ramses only took a step before righting himself. The two shoved one another back, before Adrian slipped on the sludge coming from Ramses. It crusted and flaked away like dried mud. 

“ Mammon ,” Ash gurgled, eyes flashing pink as he used the Name. “ Prince of Greed. Stop him.” 

Sighing, Ramses shook his head. His hair fell around him in a curtain, the ribbon fluttering to the ground.  

“Elle.” His voice was soft, despite him grunting with effort as he tried to hold Adrian in place. He forced a smile, despite everything going on around them. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Adrian’s fingers twisted in Ramses’ shirt, and for a moment, it looked like he was going to Feed. 

Ramses’ remaining skin flaked away, the heat returning to the area. Condensation and steam filled the air. A few slipped and stumbled at the sudden climate change, a thick fog filling the stadium. 

Seizing Adrian’s arms, Ramses threw his head back and roared. His mouth turned into a maw, his body contorting and expanding. His nails grew and tapered to a point, becoming talons. The scales became thick and covered his entire body. 

His neck lengthened, and the cracks in his skin sparked and glowed with heat. A pair of wings unfurled from his shoulders, long and with a translucent black membrane between bones like a bat. With a loud tear, his clothing was shredded as a tail grew from his spine, long and thick, not unlike a snake. 

Adrian’s eyes widened as he stared in disbelief. 

“Adrian Ashborn,” the voice of the Mammon rumbled. “From Ash you were born, and to ash you shall return.” Black flames erupted from his mouth. Black and pink mingled, before smoke and fog clouded Elle’s vision and the area. 

Mammon’s tail thrashed, and he let out another roar that shook the stadium, stomping on the ground as his wings flapped, buffeting them all with the wind. 

Red eyes focused on Elle. 

Before she could say anything, the tail wrapped around her waist. 

And they were both rising. 

(You can read the next part here!)

[evildarliing]

IN THE DARK.

Abigail Lazaar | Ana Lucia Cruz/Joey.

WORD COUNT. 730.

WARNINGS. none.

TAGS. vent. emotional hurt. promises. reflection. inspired by music. deep & lonely thoughts.

A/N. this is a vent work so it may or may not make sense; it's just something i wanted to write to help me cope.

In the moment, everything was real. Every word. Every fight. Every feeling. Everything on both sides of the tracks were real.

‘Can you promise me you’re not going to let anyone hurt me?’

She had pinky-promised to keep Abigail safe.

‘You promised, Joey.’

A promise is a promise, and she swore to keep it.

‘She saved my life!’

It was true; she fought tooth and nail and risked her life to keep a vampire, whom she had fallen victim to, alive.

‘See you around, Joey.’

Abigail promised herself that she would see Ana Lucia again. Maybe down the street or in a crowd. Maybe from a distance or right in front of her. During a snow storm or the heat of a summer day. In real life or in an everlasting dream. But a promise was a promise, and she was counting on it. She would see Joey again.

Someday…

Now, she was locked up in her bedroom like a prisoner in a cell. Abigail was realizing that she was spending too much time thinking about her; spending too many nights going through Hell. There was not a single answer to anything… The light Ana Lucia had brought into her life was leaving her in the complete dark. After all of these patient days and pacing nights, she was still waiting to see those mocha eyes stare into her blue ones or turn her head to her name being called by that voice which vowed to never hurt her. Never leave her alone.

Joey had disappeared, and she didn’t understand why. Maybe she was still gullible like Adam said. Maybe she had read too far into Joey’s maternal instincts. Or maybe it was because no one had ever shown her what it was like to be something someone wanted and, potentially, loved.

Did Joey reunite with Caleb once more and go looking for freedom in some city far away from her? It all played behind her eyes like a taunting scheme. She could see her now with Caleb by her side, starting a new life and renewing her name. Seeing so many places and meeting countless new faces. Mentally running further and further from the night she crossed paths with Abigail. Now, Abigail must be nothing more than a blur in a faded memory of promises, allied fighting, and victorious bloodshed that ended with two alive and beating hearts.

It had probably been at least 100 days since she had ever crossed Ana Lucia’s mind, and Abigail couldn’t help but ask herself too many questions to count. Some for herself and some for Joey, but all of them came back to the one thing that had left her wondering: did she do something wrong? If she would have known she would have been left feeling so blue, maybe she wouldn’t have let herself get so attached.

Though that was a lie.

She would have gotten attached regardless of the outcome. Joey was the one person who had shown her a gentle voice, a soft touch, and undying loyalty. And Abigail loved her for that.

She loved Ana Lucia Cruz.

It all felt like a waste of time looking back now, but she couldn’t shake the feeling. She didn’t want to accept the fact that maybe Joey and her had reached the end. They were walking a tightrope that started off strong but it’s tether was now losing its pull. Unwinding and breaking. Like the bond they had formed. Like the promise Ana Lucia had made.

But Abigail still loved her…

It was so foolish of her to believe, but she did. She does. And she probably always will. But after waiting day after day and night after night, what more what there to say? What more was left to do? Now that the line was drawn and what Abigail thought she had was long gone, how was she supposed to carry on like nothing ever happened? What was she supposed to tell her heart? She couldn’t face the fact already, but it was staring at her with no signs of a cover up. Plain and true.

Locked in her bedroom as the clock struck one in the morning, the emptiness in her bled through her veins. Her vision blurred like the way she had in Ana Lucia’s mind, and a tear fell from her cheek.

“Where did you go, Joey?”

[fizzywashere87]

A Dunce For You <3 or sum shit ion know

This was written with Amor's personality in mind- so sorry if it's not as flexible as an x reader should be. Go cry about it because amor mogs you all. You just lost 30k aura if ur not amor/my moots reading this >:)

@nuncscioquidsitamor-13 i hope you like it :3

Warnings: reader is basically an oc, mentions of different oc's kaminari loves amor more than you, fluff :3

M. List

It was about that time where everyone can relax and unwind. It was about that time where everyone can reflect on their day, laugh and talk about moments that have happened throughout the day. It was about that time where everyone can just enjoy each other's presences and company without a worry for tomorrow's 'what ifs'.

Everyone looked forward to this time of day after dinner, where the day really set in and tension is finally released.

You were walking towards the couches in the dorm's common room to finally unwind and relax, minding your own business as usual. As you plopped down on the couch, you quickly came to realize you did not plop down on the spot you were going for. It was definitely vacant right before you sat down, so, why are you in your boyfriend's lap?! You felt heat rise to your cheeks as you heard him giggling from behind you, you rolled your eyes. Despite his mischievous actions and playful intentions, his hands were comfortably resting and holding onto your hips as if they belonged there from the beginning.

"Denki," you start trying, to keep up that annoyed façade, though his dorky giggles were making it extremely difficult to do that and you had to fight back a smile.

"Whaaaat Mama? It's not my fault a pretty girl just happened to fall in my lap!" Kaminari chuckled pulling you closer to him. You understood he'd probably just wanted to cuddle, which was most likely going to be his next question, it went like this every time.

"Can we cuddle? Pleeeeeeaaase?" He begged as he does every time. There wasn't really anyone around right now, Isabella was seen giggling and messing around with Kirishima some distance away, but they seemed to be going somewhere else shortly. You pretended to think for a moment before sighing giving him another eyeroll.

"Okay." You say, turning around to face him and he flashes you a big grin. You felt that same heat rise to your cheeks once more as you thought about the way he grinned at you when you said 'yes' to something as simple as cuddling.

He laid back against the couch bringing you with him so you laid against his chest. It was times like this you appreciated, when he wasn't being a total dunce. While you loved him for that it was nice to wind down after being pushed to your limits all day, winding down with him was even better. He removed your glasses for you so the frames wouldn't get in the way, and for once in his life he was careful with it. He set them on the nearby table and allowed you to take up as much space as you wanted against him. It felt nice to have your hair played with, and the fact Kaminari was doing it felt sooo much nicer.

You closed your eyes listening to his heartbeat thumping against his chest reflecting on the tiring day you had silently against him. At one point he started whispering sweet nothings to you, and it made you realize his eyes are on you, and only for you. Nobody else could walk in and change that.

You hear Stella's voice in the background, then Isabella's, and you hear them quiet down as they get closer. You didn't have enough energy to open your eyes anyways, and judging by Kaminari's calm breathing your boyfriend was asleep. Damn.

"I think they're asleep guys." Bella whispers sarcastically, you could hear the smirk in her voice, Kirishima was heard a little farther back.

"No shit dumbass." Selle giggles taking a picture of the two, Bakugo scoffed also seemingly further back.

"Right, c'mon they're both knocked out as fuck." Bella mutters, not before leaning towards Kaminari, "I'll give you 50 if you pinch her right now." Not a twitch. "Damn." They both walk off giggling with each other as if they'd done something childish.

Their voices fade away as you fully succumb to the sleep nagging at your brain. You didn't know it but he looks at you everyday and wonders how he'd ever gotten so lucky.

...

"Denki where'd you put my glasses?!" You call out to him not being able to find your glasses. You heard a nervous giggle getting closer and you turn around to face him, crossing your arms.

"Relax babes! You don't even need them! You look super cute even without 'em!!" He says thinking he's solved the problem, obviously proud of himself.

"I need them to see!!"

"DON'T SPRAY ME WITH YOUR WATER AGAIN PLEASE MORI!!"

SORRY IT WAS SO SHORT IF YOU WANT MORE I CAN WRITE IT LATER!!

also srry if it kinda sucks my mind is tweaking.

[t-305tv]

Can you do one where Tori is a superhero and Jade is a villain, but they end up falling for each other eventually and start a family please?

In the bustling heart of Angel Grove, a city thrumming with life beneath the relentless Californian sun, a new day dawned. Sunlight kissed the towering skyscrapers, casting long, warm shadows across the bustling streets below. Soaring through the sky, a blur of shimmering blue and silver, was Tori Vega, the city's beloved protector, "Starlight." Her cape,the color of a twilight sky, billowed behind her like a comet's tail. Routine patrol completed, she yearned for a quiet afternoon, a chance to unwind from the city's constant hum.

Meanwhile, nestled deep within a labyrinthine network of tunnels beneath the city, Jade West, the notorious "Shadowstrike," plotted her next move. She'd always been a solitary force, a phantom flitting through the shadows,content in her isolation. But today, an unsettling feeling clung to her like a shroud. An invisible hand seemed to tug at the fabric of her reality, hinting at an impending change, a shift in the very course of her life.

Touching down on the rooftop of a gleaming high-rise, Tori's senses flickered, picking up on a distant tremor in the city's energy. Her gaze swept across the cityscape, and a plume of smoke rising from a warehouse on the outskirts snagged her attention. With a sigh that carried the weight of countless interventions, she launched herself towards the burgeoning chaos.

Arriving on the scene, she found the warehouse engulfed in flames, an inferno threatening to devour everything in its path. Her powers surged, and with a gesture, she conjured a shimmering forcefield, a protective bubble containing the blaze and preventing it from spreading further. Just as she readied herself to enter the burning structure and search for survivors, a figure emerged from the smoke-filled doorway.

"Shadowstrike," Tori declared, instantly recognizing the menacing silhouette. Jade stepped into the firelight, a sardonic glint in her obsidian eyes. "Starlight, well met," she drawled, her voice dripping with amusement.

"What's your game this time, Jade?" Tori demanded, her voice a steady counterpoint to the crackling flames.

"A mere experiment," Jade replied nonchalantly, "though it appears you've chosen the most inconvenient moment to grace me with your presence."

Tori's gaze narrowed. "Whatever you're planning ends now."

A sly grin stretched across Jade's face as she charged, their powers colliding in a cacophony of light and shadow. They dueled fiercely, their abilities mirroring each other in a dance of destruction. But amidst the chaos, something shifted within Tori. She saw a flicker of raw determination in Jade's eyes, a flame that spoke of something deeper than mere villainy. She saw a person, complex and wounded, yearning for something more.

Jade, too, found herself drawn to an unexpected aspect of Tori. Not just the unwavering strength of a relentless hero, but the unwavering compassion that fueled it. The lines between hero and villain began to blur with each clash, replaced by a grudging respect, an unspoken understanding.

As the fight raged, a crumbling support beam threatened to crush them both. Without a second thought, Tori channeled her powers, creating a force field that shielded Jade from the falling debris. They tumbled to the ground, ragged breaths escaping their lips. The world seemed to hold its breath in that split second, the heat of the fire a palpable presence.

"Why?" Jade rasped, genuine confusion etched on her face.

Tori looked into Jade's eyes, the flames reflecting a kaleidoscope of emotions within them. "Because," she said simply, "I couldn't just let you die."

In that shared moment of vulnerability, a fragile connection sparked. The animosity that had defined their interactions for so long began to crumble, replaced by a tentative understanding. They called a truce, an alliance forged in the crucible of the fire, forced to work together to extinguish the flames and save the trapped workers within.

Days bled into weeks, their uneasy partnership deepening with each passing sunset. A shared burden laid bare a vulnerability neither had expected. They began to carve out moments of quiet conversation, peeling back layers of their pasts, sharing dreams and fears. Tori discovered the pain etched into Jade's soul, the loneliness that fueled her darkness.Jade, in turn, saw the unwavering belief in good that anchored Tori's unwavering spirit.

As their bond deepened, so did their feelings. They were two sides of the same coin, forever intertwined. Hero and villain blurred into something new, something beautiful. It wasn't long before their alliance blossomed into a love that defied expectations. They found solace and strength in each other's arms, a love story born from the ashes of chaos.

Years later, bathed in the soft glow of a setting sun on the rooftop where it all began, stood Tori and Jade, no longer adversaries but partners, lovers, and parents. Their two children, each embodying

---------------------

Tori and Jade’s apartment was a blend of their distinct personalities. The living room was decorated with Tori’s bright, cheerful touches: colorful artwork, plush furniture, and family photos. Jade’s influence was seen in the sleek, modern design and the occasional dark, edgy piece of decor.

Their children, Max and Luna, were playing on the floor with their toys. Max, the older of the two, was building an elaborate tower with his blocks, while Luna was busy making her stuffed animals “fly” around the room with her emerging telekinetic abilities.

Tori walked into the room, holding a tray with snacks and drinks. “Snack time!” she called out, smiling as Max and Luna looked up excitedly.

Max jumped up and ran to Tori. “Mommy, look at what I built! It’s a superhero tower!”

Tori knelt down to admire his creation. “Wow, Max! That’s amazing! You’re so creative.”

Luna floated her stuffed animals back to the floor and toddled over to join them. “I made them fly, Mama!” she exclaimed, looking at Jade, who was sitting on the couch with a book.

Jade put the book down and smiled at her daughter. “I saw, Luna. You’re getting really good at that.”

Luna beamed with pride and reached for a cookie from the tray. Tori handed Max a juice box and ruffled his hair. “You both are doing such great things. I’m so proud of you.”

Jade got up from the couch and walked over to Tori, wrapping an arm around her waist. “We’re proud of them, aren’t we?”

Tori leaned into Jade, her eyes full of love. “Absolutely.”

Max looked up at his moms, a curious expression on his face. “Mommy, Mama, will we all go on a mission together someday?”

Jade exchanged a glance with Tori, and they both smiled. Tori nodded. “Maybe one day, Max. But for now, our mission is to make sure you both grow up happy and safe.”

Max grinned, satisfied with that answer. “Okay, Mommy. I’ll keep practicing my superhero skills!”

Luna tugged on Jade’s hand. “Mama, can you show me how to do more with my powers?”

Jade crouched down to Luna’s level and gently took her small hands. “Of course, Luna. We’ll practice together. But remember, your powers are special, and you need to use them responsibly.”

Tori watched them, her heart swelling with love and pride. Despite their rocky start, she and Jade had built a life filled with love, understanding, and a beautiful family. Their journey was far from over, but as long as they had each other, she knew they could face anything that came their way.

Jade looked up at Tori, her eyes softening. “Thank you for saving me that day, Tori. For giving us this life.”

Tori smiled, leaning down to kiss Jade’s forehead. “Thank you for saving me right back. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Jade whispered, holding Tori close.

And as their children played and laughed around them, Tori and Jade knew they had found their true happy ending.

[koshmarr]

XL’s fixation with HC’s hair

Brought over the only thread fic i did on twitter and cleaned up-enjoy

Note: There are some mature elements at the end

---

When Xie Lian meets San Lang, he's fascinated with the way his hair is messily gathered and drapes along his neck, it's disheveled, boyish, cute, and he discovers for a matter of fact it is as soft as it looks when he threads his fingers through it. He can't help but wish he could push his hand further into the thick but soft strands. Letting them flow over his fingers like ink spilled on paper.

As Xie Lian gets to know San Lang, he finds himself fixated on him, how could he not? He’s a vision. But his eyes always themselves lingering on his silky hair. Like when it fanned out like a halo around his head when they laid in the shrine or when it was adorned with little trinkets and bobbles that reflected the red lights in ghost city.

But Xie Lian especially remembers when it’s pulled up, swaying lazily behind him, displaying San Lang's milky neck that he can't help but admire.

There are times when Hua Cheng’s gaze is so intense it lights a fire inside of him, but it disappears in but a moment as Hua Cheng seems to realize his own starring. It frustrates Xie Lian to no end. Whenever Hua Cheng hesitates, whenever he begins to leave, to laugh it off, all Xie Lian wants to do is grab him by the ponytail, spin him around and claim his lips. He wants to make Hua Cheng gasp in his mouth as he pulls on his hair, sinking his fingers into the base, controlling the ghost king like a puppet, making him keen and gasp in pain and in pleasure when Xie Lian tilts his head back to mark his neck.

Its after when they reunite that Xie Lian does exactly this, tired of his husband's teasing and quick wit, he makes quick work of shutting him up.

Hua Cheng takes to wearing his hair up more often after that. 

Almost daily.

After putting his hair up becomes a habit for Hua Cheng, Xie Lian takes note (of course) and notices that even the act of Hua Cheng putting his hair up for the day turns his husband on, so naturally Xie Lian offers to put up his beloved's hair. Hua Cheng agrees immediately, though did not realize how intense of a reaction he'd have.

The simple act of his god raking his fingers through Hua Cheng’s scalp, unwinding tangled strands, scratching lightly at the nape of his neck, sends sparks of electricity down his spine. After a moment, Xie Lian gathers his husband's hair with a soft but purposeful tug that makes Hua Cheng sink his fingers into the sheets.

Xie lian can’t help but smile at the reaction. 

Xie Lian knows what he's doing, and to see his husband turn into putty at but a simple gesture warms his heart, knowing that only he can elicit such a reaction from his San Lang. 

He finishes putting Hua Cheng’s hair up petting it lightly, seeing his husband shake lightly, he leans down and whispers, 

"My San Lang looks so handsome, but oh, whats this?"

And Xie Lian combs his fingers from the base of Hua Cheng's neck to the top of the ponytail, turning his husband's head towards him, 

"Ah it seems like there's a few bumps, so sorry San Lang, this gege will have to start all over again,"

And Xie Lian redoes his husband’s hair at least two more times before taking pity on him, who at this point has torn through the sheets with his white knuckled grip and is letting out uneven, and unnecessary, breaths.

Xie Lian pulls Hua Cheng down on their bed, his hand is still fisted in his hair, kissing down the side of his neck. Hua Cheng can hardly speak or breathe for that matter, the only thoughts in his head are how his robes need to come off now, and that he never wants Xie Lian’s hand to leave him.

Xie Lian rides Hua Cheng with his hand still holding onto the remnants of his ponytail that remain. Afterwards Hua Cheng takes to wearing long ribbons holding up his hair in hopes his husband will pull on them (to give his scalp a break). 

Xie Lian of course could never neglect his husband.

[ifidiedinadream]

Aleksi photo from last night gave thoughts for request if you don't mind. Aleksi and reader having mirror sex.

first fic i write after the gig helloooo

as my friend paulina said, all you have to do to go back to writing mode after a gig is to start seeing them as fanfiction characters again. for some reason it's extremely difficult to me 🤔 they're too real now 😂 hope you like this 🥰🥰

Aleksi has just come back from the European tour. It's been a long month without him, but you only realized how much you'd been missing him when he walked through the door and immediately hugged you, the embrace silent but full of love and you could feel yourself sink into him, in his arms. 

Knowing him, he probably planned on spending at least a week at home. You could understand that; he must've been so, so tired, and socially drained as well. 

Nevertheless, you knew he would appreciate your surprise, even if it meant a change of plans. 

That's how you ended up in a spa resort just out of town. Nothing major, just a couple of days so he could unwind to the fullest, have his spine relaxed by the massages and his mind freed in the name of self care. He clearly needs it - and definitely deserves it. 

You get back to your hotel room in the evening, after a whole day of whirlpools, saunas and facials, and you're ready for your night routine. Aleksi is grinning. 

"What?" you ask, curious. 

"Did you see that?" 

He's pointing in the direction of the wall opposite the bed with his chin. A huge mirror takes up almost the entire wall. You've had this conversation before; you know what he's implying. 

You grin in turn. 

"I thought you'd be tired after constantly touring for months and months…" 

He walks over to you, eyes on your lips like they're calling him. "I'm not tired anymore after today," he says. "Plus, I didn't really get to touch you last night when I arrived, how long did you think I was gonna wait?" 

You smile and blush, wrapping your arms around his neck now that he's close enough. Aleksi leans in and kisses you, slow and languid as he rests his hands on your hips, pulling you closer. For a moment you're surprised that he seems so controlled and calm - his previous words made you think it'd be more urgent. But you want him so much that you'll just take whatever he wants to give you and not complain - you haven't seen each other in so long after all, and FaceTime just wasn't enough. Now his strong hands are on you, his hot mouth on and inside yours and your stomach flips. 

"Don't think I'll be this gentle tonight, baby," he says softly, as if reading your mind. "I waited too long." 

He guides you closer to the mirror and pushes you against it with his whole body weight. You gasp, unprepared to the sudden vehemence. He's behind you now, lips sucking on the side of your neck. 

(It's been a hot minute since he's left you with any hickeys. You can't be bothered to care at the moment.) 

Instinctively, you push your ass back against him, your breath condensing on the glass so that your close reflection is fogged up. He grabs your hips firmly in response, holding them still. He rubs his growing cock against your ass, making you want it even more. 

"You're gonna behave?" he asks in your ear. 

You simply nod, trapped between him and the mirror, willing yourself to calm down.  

"Good," he says, hands snaking to the front of your pants. "You'll keep your eyes open and watch in the mirror the whole time. Understood?" 

You open your eyes immediately, not even realizing you'd closed them. You nod again and he seems pleased. 

Aleksi opens your pants and pushes them down alongside your panties. You watch in the reflection as he looks down, pulling himself out and aligning his cock to your hole. 

He pushes in with no further preamble. You fall forward and rest your hands against the mirror. You'd almost forgotten what being full felt like, so intense and good. 

"Fuck," he says. "How did I go a month without this? Without you?" 

His eyes are droopy, once again fixed on your lips through the reflection. When a moan escapes them, his eyes roll back, and then he's pushing into you again. 

You bend over more, sticking your ass out to grant him easier access. Your forehead touches the glass like this, and you really wish you could still see him but your reflected mouth is the only thing visible from this angle. You keep your eyes open anyway. Another groan escapes you when he pushes in again, deeper now. But then his hand snakes around your neck and he guides you back against his chest, your head falling onto his shoulder as he keeps on thrusting. 

"This is so fucking good, but there's better use we can make of this mirror…" he breathes out. "I wanna be able to see us better." 

He pulls out then, making you whine at the loss. He kisses you as soon as you turn around, hot and searing and you wrap your hand around his cock and squeeze lightly to show your appreciation. He smiles against your lips before you follow him to the bed. He sits down. 

"Strip for me?" he asks. 

His attentive yet droopy gaze is insistent on you. You're unable to resist him, but then again, it's not like you wish you could. You take your clothes off with a cheeky grin, following his eyes roaming all over your body shamelessly. You sit in his lap and his hands land on your waist immediately, his impatient lips on your collarbone as he tries to pull you closer. You grab at the hem of his hoodie instead. 

"My turn," you say, and he lets you take off his clothes. You run your nails down his chest, loving the way the hairs feel under your fingertips, making the delicate skin redden. 

Before you can kiss him again, he makes you get off of him. 

"On your hands and knees, facing the mirror," he orders. 

You do as he says, as close to the edge of the bed as possible, although there's not much room between the bed and the mirror. It's still dirty with handprints and traces of your breath. 

You've never seen yourself in this position before, so you're excited, but not as much as when Aleksi finally appears behind you. You watch him as he eyes your ass and feel his hands on each cheek. Then one leaves you and disappears between the two of you, and suddenly he's shoving himself back inside. 

He straightens. Looks at your face, locking eyes with you in the mirror. Your mouth is hanging open, feeling extremely stuffed with him just buried deep inside you like this. 

"Remember to keep your eyes open," he says, face serious. You nod, bracing yourself. 

When he starts to fuck you it's hard to keep the promise, but you really don't wanna disappoint him. Still, the way he pushes you forwards, the intensity of the feeling and the visceral pleasure make you wish you could lose yourself completely, abandoning all of your senses but the sensation of having him pounding hard into you. Aleksi doesn't wait, his pace is fast right from the start, his hands on your waist to keep you in place when he thrusts. 

It's a struggle - keeping your eyes open -, something you have to be aware of the entire time otherwise they'll just close, but what makes it worthwhile is being able to see Aleksi. You're not used to seeing him when he fucks you from behind, the flush all over his face and chest, the droplets of sweat on his forehead. You can tell he's struggling to keep his eyes open as well, whereas his jaw is just slack, his pretty mouth emitting deep, guttural noises every time he reaches deep. It's incredibly intimate when you lock eyes, feeling as if not only are you totally naked physically, but also figuratively, and it's not invasive as it is tender somehow - no matter how filthy the situation is. He smiles at you, and you can tell he wants to say something but his moans don't let him. Tired, you let yourself fall to your elbows, never once diverging your gaze from his face or body. 

He increases his pace even more, grip on your waist tightening. He pulls back further now so that he can push in more forcefully, making you gasp at his every thrust, the pleasure building up inside you barely contenible. You're close, so close. And the way he's groaning, the way he's watching you with knowing, dark blue eyes, so deep that you feel seen in your very soul, that you don't know where you're feeling him inside more - your body or your head. All of this pushes you right over the edge, making you close your eyes irresistibly, but he doesn't care, he simply fucks you harder. You can hear his breathing shorten as you ride out your high, the orgasm reaching its peak and then slowly subsiding. 

You open your eyes just in time to see him come, stilling deep inside you as his face contorts in pleasure. His cum is sticky and hot inside you and he's biting down at his bottom lip hard, deeply concentrated on his own pleasure, overwhelmed by it. He lets out a sigh then and his muscles relax visibly. 

He pulls out of you after a moment, your heartbeat finally back to normal. You force yourself to go to the bathroom before you indulge in some mandatory cuddles (you don't want a UTI) and when you get back, Aleksi is already under the covers, holding your gaze with a smug grin. 

"What?" you ask, smiling back as you get comfortable in bed next to him. 

"You think we should get a mirror like that?" 

You snort, resting your head upon his chest. "Narcissist." 

"Oh c'mon, it was hot," he says. "You look super hot like that." 

The second sentence is a whisper, fingertips under your chin to make you look at him. Unable to resist his lips so close, you lean in and kiss him, hand on his jawline and neck. It's passionate. 

"Wow, ready for round two already?" he asks upon pulling back. 

"Shut the fuck up," you say. "I didn't see you for a month. You're insane if you think you can get rid of me so easily." 

With a laugh he turns around, making you lie on your back as he lies on top of you. He connects his lips to yours again.   

[asinglepecan]

FFXIVWrite Prompt 16: Jerk

Aila and Y'shtola go camping after Endwalker

The smell of dry meat hung heavy in the air. It was a smell Aila was accustomed too, she had taken to making jerky from whatever she could find whilst on the road. Her companion was markedly less accustomed to it, and she noticed her nose wrinkle as they approached the campsite.

"It certainly smells strong." Said Y'shtola, finding a place to sit. 

Aila chuckled and started the fire. The two had been traveling together for a few days now, at the warrior's request. Y'shtola had made comment on being trapped indoors for some time, studying the secrets of traversing the rift, and Aila had jumped on the opportunity to teach her how to really camp.

"May I assume the stench is dinner?" 

"Oh no, the jerk's for the road. Tonight i'll cook." 

"Ah" Y'shtola unsuccessfully hid her relief. She could handle spice but the 'jerk' was certainly less appetizing than a freshly cooked meal.

The two unwinded near the fire as Aila cooked. Comfortable silence, as always. After a while Aila noticed her companion looking skyward. Her eyes were strained in focus. Gently, she breached the issue.

"You alright?"

"Mm? Oh, yes I'm fine."

Aila hardly bought the lie, and looked at her friend concerned. She let the moment hang, and kept tending to dinner.

"It's just… I wish I could see it. Is all." 

Aila frowned slightly, and made her way towards where Y'shtola sat. 

"Well the trees are old and sturdy, the ground well tread. The dirt's been darkened in spots by the coming and going of wildlife. If you look out to the edge of camp, you can still see the underbrush fading with the last daylight."

Y'shtola listened patiently, and kept staring out to try and see it.

"It's autumn nearly, the leaves are turning. Just yellow now, the promise of a later red. And there's a fire, where a great big silver fish roasts. Its scales reflect the embers a little, cast the glow further."

"...and the sky?" Asked Y'shtola.

"Well, I'm no poet. But I can tell you the stars are out, clear as ever. You can see em up there, like pinpricks in a big sheet. Each torn a little different than the last. They're brilliant."

Y'shtola smiled contended, and the two awaited dinner.

----- Not sure I'm happy with this, but wanted to get something in for the make-up day

[tlacehualli]

@femtaile

  . //                     𝘔𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘶𝘳𝘦, 𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘶𝘳𝘦, 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 / 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘴 𝘳𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱, 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨?;  resisting? Assimilating. Fighting? Merely following established order. Directives, you ought to adhere to them. Back & forth; as if repeating the same variation over & over & over again. Here : you did not use your hands enough, feel it in your fingertips. There : no, no. Glissade. I need you to glide across the stage, Amé - [ memories intermingle / blend together; you & her & you & ⸻  are we doing this again?You might as well lay down & die. Stop talking. Oh, you would like that wouldn’t you? I need. To focus!]. Garbled French shot back & forth across the grand landscape of your mind. &&, as ever, indignantly, she glares at you / aggressively demanding room, demanding space, one step forward & another back. It is a never ending TIRADE of yelling & screaming & battle for control; in-between bullet hail & indoctrination, study of the English language, the covert arts [ what for? so you can go ahead & shot someone again? ] Maintenance. Another lab visit. Conditioning circle. You hear MOIRA curse under her breath. What follows is agony, for both of you [ hm? Am I supposed to just let you do that? ]; it starts again. New routine, old routine. Listen to the directives, you have been given a mission goal, Lacroix. You. Have. A. Mission   ━ [ STOP IGNORING ME!! ]

        ...

          ⸻ fingers dig through black strands of hair, undo the unbearably tight ponytail. There is sweat on your brow & a pressure on your temples / as if bone is held in a vice grip; a tingle at the base of your skull / a constant, ever present ring. Second time this week / utter mission failure [ did you get shot? Mock question; you hesitate ]; a scrimmage, so they say, or so you have been told, & yet lack of consequences does not lessen the weight of scrutiny nor does it soothe the deeply seated distress coiling around your every bone [ either way,they will get rid of you. Of us. Yes... Finally ]. Exhaustion & a soreness had long settled in; a sentiment words failed to describe for its intensity grew gradually worse each passing day; commonplace & expected. You are supposed to pay it little heed & instead follow established routine ever so artfully / only to be greeted with a pang of nausea [ how... frustrating; it is unnerving, is it not? How your every ability to perceive emotional turmoil is dulled & yet the commotion inside your mind is driving you ━ ]

tired?

         Whatever it is, the bustle stops / for a moment; long enough for you to readjust. To pick up the rifle you dropped, hard glare cast onto bullet hole & a scrape close to the fore-end; here’s to a single finger tracing the carving / trigger index, so pale against the inlaid dark material, the serial number found only centimeters to the left.   ⸻ you exhale. The tension in your shoulders & the back of your skull unwinds somewhat, if only temporarily / go on then, shift position & continue rifle’s maintenance. Reflect           :          the bullet hole marks a scenario in which near-death occurred [ using the rifle to deflect a shot is not wise. The damage sustained could potentially  ⸻ ]

cue a knock. ━ gaze shoots up; attention dwelling near the door. Spontaneous entry & just as unwanted commentary. Chest tightens; recently joined Talon-Operative, almost as recent as you, Callsign SOMBRA.  ⸻ what could she possibly want? [ conscience tears / frays / you feel the chill & pull of her resurfacing. && you resist, have hands veering around weapon parts / digging nails in. Further, further until you seem anchored; biding time, establishing yourself. ]. SOMBRA talks readily & you only understand half of it.

‘ shot to shit. ’          How can a language be that coarse & vulgar?

“  laisse moi tranquille.  “      ⸻    && the sudden sound of your own voice / the volume you use startles; velveteen, one-note. You sound impassive but interwoven in the curl of vowels & consonants is a certain undertone stressing something. Palms press against rifle’s barrel; a distraction, trick of the mind : from the growing unease in the depths of you stomach, the looming dread [ the cold that pulls & continues pulling; back & forth, she is there. Relentless ]. Whatever it is SOMBRA wants [ an ulterior motive? Likely.  ⸻  non, you need solitude / calm; a certain make-shift tranquility ━  no you don’t! ]. 

         Gold darts up / flits away from heavy weaponry, establishes eye-contact, musters, blinks. There is a moment of calculation; estimating what her purpose here could be [ surveillance. You failed. Consequences? stop, please,It hurts to think ] ere being quick to curtly continue, concentration back to the gun in your lap.  “  va t'en.  ”

       ⸻ when SOMBRA doesn’t move you have brows knit; accented tone, this time, sterner [ you were speaking French again... Don’t ]. “  I said go. I do not need your ‘elp  “

It occurred to the smaller girl that it was probably a good idea to install some French language translation software or something, but something about the idea of actually understanding French seemed a little abhorrent to her. English was enough. Ridiculous language. So she just waited patiently. Fuck, she hated even having to be here, but...well, this was different.

Back in Los Muertos, they'd taken care of each other, after a fashion. Running one of many smaller cartels meant that their group had no real influence when it came to the police, or the hospitals, the politicians - when they got hurt, they were on their own. She was just a kid when she was already helping patch up bullet holes, her young mind adapting just as quickly to learn battlefield medic basics as it had been rapidly absorbing how to code. It was just one way of making herself useful, she had to be useful, she'd been learning that even at 12.

A part of her - a stupid, sentimental part that still refused to die - missed them. She knew that wasn't her path any longer. There was something that was hunting her, and she knew, she just knew, that it wouldn't just be her dying. It would have been everybody. Which was why she'd joined this fucking terrorist org in the first place. Talon had money. Talon had resources. She could use those and keep herself protected for now. It was what she needed to do to survive.

By all rights, Sombra should have hated this woman. Some part of her certainly did, but, well, she was a hacker and there was little in the way of information not readily at her fingertips. She was not quite so naive as to dive too deep into Talon's cybersecurity (nothing could keep her out, but the thought of Moira's eyes peering into her and deciding that she too would be better off controlled would surely join her nightmares soon), but she knew enough that this woman was suffering.

Olivia, que estupidez estas haciendo?

"Yeah you look like you're doing great." The hacker's tone and eyes were both sharp now after having gone through microseconds of concern and annoyance. Her chin jutted out towards the wound the sniper - ballerina - sniper? - ballerina ??? - carried on her arm. Blood was getting everywhere and she wasn't exactly a gunsmith or anything, but she didn't think it was exactly gonna help.

"Unless that's a fashion statement you're keeping around on purpose, I can patch it up. I've got a lot of practice. And my hands are a lot warmer than Moira's." Her eyes were probably warmer too, as unnatural as their purple glow was but - well, if she was scared of the doctor, she couldn't really imagine how the Widow felt.