#cw: heatstroke

[coffeeghoulie]

broke the mold (change will come)

chapter 1: can't explain a thing

"For a very long time, I thought I was fire too."

The only person Swiss has ever told this story to is Aeon. But that is centuries from now, and he is not yet Swiss.

I've been thinking about and working on this fic since I wrote Eternal Heatstroke last year, and it's finally ready to share! You don't have to have read EH before reading this, but this is technically its sequel.

Much thanks to @askingforthesun for letting me bother them with this fic and helping with the worldbuilding, @mintea-in-space for reading through it, and to @belle--ofthebrawl for letting me yap about this fic in person. <3

Title and all chapter titles (unless otherwise specified) are from (Coffee's for Closers) by Fall Out Boy. Updates on Fridays.

Contains emotional child abuse, religious doubt, a large group of ghoul OCs, dissociation, and a large crisis of faith. Please mind the warnings <3. 5.9k.

divider by @wrathofrats <3

He's just gotten comfortable in the little nest in the corner of their room when the door creaks open. Golden light spills into the late night darkness, revealing the silhouette of a teenage fire ghoulette. Her horns are just starting to curl back over her head, silver jewelry threaded into the braids that brush over her shoulders. The hall light glints off of them, catching his eye.

"Aurum," she says bluntly, no hesitation or care that he might be asleep. He shuts his eyes. "Mother and Father want to talk to you."

Aurum squeezes his eyes shut even tighter, a pang of fear and deep seated dread sinking into him. He groans under his breath, biting down hard on his lower lip. "I know," he says, reluctantly extracting himself from his nest just as Scintilla, his sister, curls up into hers in the other corner.

"Be quiet when you come back," she says, disinterested in the obvious fear in his scent that he can't quite mask. "Some of us care about our studies in the morning. Ignis is already asleep."

He takes a deep, shuddering breath, feeling his sister's eyes burning into the small of his back. "I'll be quiet, Till." He’ll at least try to be. At least for his youngest sister’s sake. Sometimes, it feels like she’s the only one who doesn’t just hate him.

"You better be quiet," she grumbles, settling into her bed. "You certainly weren't last time."

Aurum shuts the door as quietly as he can.

The walk down the hallway gets longer every time he's summoned, he swears. Every step harder to take, unavoidable. His heart pounds in his chest. It rattles at his ribs in an attempt to get free. He waits for a moment outside of their door, the frame seeming to loom over him despite him being rather tall for his age.

There's shuffling within, blankets and papers, quiet murmurs that Aurum can't quite make heads or tails of. He knows his mother and father's voices though. He swallows hard, turning the door handle and stepping into his parents' room.

Aurum feels like he's spending more time in his parents' room than his own, these days. It's the third summoning this week. Their room is exactly the same as the last time he was summoned here. Their hearth sits against the far wall in an intricate weaving of bedding, two dressers on the wall opposite. The window is tightly shut, and if Aurum squints past the glare from the lights on their nightstands, he can see the glow of the City below.

Aurum ducks his head as both of his parents' gazes lock onto him. Pyra sits in her nest, legs gracefully tucked under her. There's papers and readings sprawled out in the blankets, her glasses perched on her nose as she looks over the frames. Inferno stops pacing by the window, turning to look at his oldest and only son, dull yellow eyes staring into what counts of his soul.

"Your father and I both know why we've asked you here, Aurum," Pyra says, reaching back to where she's tied back her hair. A few loose twists have escaped her ponytail, and she pushes them back behind her ears neatly. Ever prim and proper, even when winding down for the evening.

"Yes, Mother," Aurum mumbles, taking the space he knows well at the foot of their hearth. His arms go behind his back, and he hangs his head, his braids falling into his eyes.

Inferno tuts, and Aurum jolts. "You look at your mother when she speaks to you."

Aurum swallows. "Yes, Father." It's always hard to judge if Inferno gets involved on nights like this. He usually yields to his mate, but some nights... Aurum just has to hedge his bets. But he swallows hard again, straightening to meet his mother's dark amber gaze.

"Why do you think we've called you here?" Pyra asks, her attention split between him and her papers. Aurum's made the hypocrisy comment before, about him forced to be at attention and her being allowed to pay attention only when she pleased, and it didn't end well, so he keeps his mouth shut.

"I don't know, Mother," he says. In reality, it could be any number of infractions. Iggy, even though she's his favorite little sister, loves pushing his buttons until he breaks and snaps. It could be the way he isn't keeping his nest clean to Tilly's standards. It could be anything.

Pyra whips towards Inferno, something red glowing in the darkness of her eyes like embers waiting to be kicked back to life. "By the Prince, Inferno, he's just like you."

The larger ghoul throws his hands up, raking claws through close-cropped curls. "I know, Pyra, I'm trying to make sure he doesn't turn out like me."

"You're not trying hard enough," she snaps, turning back to Aurum. His ears pin back. "'I don't know' is not an answer, Aurum. Try again."

Aurum wracks his mind, even as everything starts to blur around the edges. He digs his claws into one of his wrists, squeezing as hard as he can. He hopes the pain keeps the dissociation at bay. "I- I really don't know, Mother."

She snarls, slapping the papers in her hand against the nest. Aurum flinches, but he knows better now than to physically recoil and step back. He'd learned that lesson a long time ago. He instead tightens his grip around his wrist.

"You are here, again, because your tutor told us that you weren't trying at all to improve your magic. Again."

"I am trying!" Aurum says, eyes glancing nervously between his parents. His father stands stock still, staring expressionlessly. "Saint Jezebel, I'm trying, I swear!"

"Watch your tone." Pyra tuts, her fangs clicking threateningly. She picks up the stack of papers and thumbs through them. "I'd believe you, Aurum, only, that's exactly what you said about the last tutor. And the last one. And the one before that."

Aurum takes a deep breath through his nose. "Because it was true then, and it's true now. I am trying, Mother. I don't know what's wrong with me that I can't use my magic like I used to. I can't do anything right." He snaps the last sentence, unsure if he's angry with her or at himself.

She shakes her head. Her eyes lock on his and it takes everything in Aurum's power to not look away. To stay here and present and focused. If he misses something, she will make him live to regret it. "Tone, Aurum."

He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment. "I'm sorry, Mother."

Pyra doesn't respond with much more than a huff.

"You know how your mother feels about 'sorry,' Aurum," Inferno snaps. He leans against the bedroom wall. He watches. It feels like that's all his father ever does. Watches, never interferes. Except when he's angry enough to start yelling too.

Aurum hates those nights. He hopes this isn't one of them.

"Yes, Father," Aurum says.

"Quit it with the 'Yes, Father, yes, Mother,'" Pyra says. "We're sick of hearing it."

Aurum squints, brows furrowing with exasperated confusion. "Well, if I don't address you, you yell at me for being disrespectful. If I do address you, you get angry. I can't win."

She mirrors his expression. He can't tell if she's mocking him. She probably is. "So you admit that you think this is a game?"

"No!" He says, throwing his head back to look up at the ceiling, a silent prayer in his mind. "That's not what I said at all!"

"You are squandering the Prince's gift!" Pyra snaps, her many fangs long and sharp. "He said that you would-"

"Grow to great power and bring honor to my name in servitude to the Throne! Mother, I know, you've told me!" Aurum says, his claws curling into his wrist and threatening to break his own skin. "You tell me every time I don't do good enough for you!"

"Aurum," she growls, standing from the nest. She's just barely taller than him, and her eyes bore into his. "You would do well enough for us if you just tried. I know you can, I've seen it."

"What, when everything was fucking easy?" He snaps. Aurum's exhausted. He wonders why they can't have these little "discussions" earlier in the day. When he wouldn't ache for his nest. Wouldn't have to worry about waking his sisters.

"Don't take that tone with me," she snarls. She's never done more than snap her teeth, grab at his wrist, but there's enough threat in her voice that Aurum flinches.

He lets his eyes flick up at the ceiling, the familiar words starting to rush through his mind. Seven Sisters, grant me the strength and patience I do not-

"Don't roll your eyes at me, Aurum!"

Aurum's eyes go wide, glancing back to his mother's face as she stands in front of him. "I didn't!"

"I fucking watched you, Aurum, I'm not stupid!" She lunges, so close Aurum can feel her spittle hitting his cheeks. "Quit fucking lying to me, it's not going to get you anywhere."

"Mother, I didn't roll my eyes, I looked up-"

"Knock it off," Inferno says. "Listen to your mother."

"I am, Father," Aurum says, bravely looking away from Pyra to glare daggers at his father. He feels the anger burning in his chest, coals kicked into flames with each heartbeat. Whenever he calms, in hours or days, who knows, Aurum knows there will be no forgiveness for his father's enabling observance. For never putting a stop to this. He's close to grown now, he can leave soon and never have to do this again.

Not much longer until he's grown. He's gotten this far. He can make it a few more decades.

The tiny voice in the back of his mind reminds him that he's not sure how much more of this he can force himself to endure.

Pyra's clawed hand grabs his chin, forcing Aurum to make eye contact with her. "You need to try harder, Aurum. The Prince said you would bring honor to your family's name and follow their footsteps. Do not make a false prophet of Him."

"I am trying as hard as I can, the fire's not- It's not coming to me the way it used to, and I don’t know why," he says, tail curling around his calf sheepishly and ears pinned back. "I'm sorry. Mama, I’m sorry."

She rolls her eyes, huffing. Her voice goes soft, and her thumb smooths over his cheek. Gentle. He fights every instinct to lean into it. "I don't believe you. Aurum. If you really meant it, you would do something to change it."

Aurum sinks his fangs into his tongue until he tastes blood. Even despite the pain, he can feel his mind retreating deep into his brain, leaving him feeling almost hollow. Pyra's talking. He knows he can hear her, but nothing processes. She can probably see the way his eyes are going dull.

There's a muted dread that settles in his chest. He knows she's saying something he needs to listen to. She'll be pissed when she realizes he isn't hearing her. His father'll be pissed too. But Aurum can't get his brain back online even despite that threat.

He can hear her talking. So close he can feel her breath, his eyes crossed as they try to focus on her. He cannot make out the words but knows the tone. He’s heard it before. He knows how to make this stop, how to stop nights like these, but he’s been trying just as long.

It feels like he’s living the same day over and over and over and over and over again with no end in sight.

Eventually, she lets go of his face, takes a step back to her nest. To where she’s brought her work home from the Palace. Flamespeaker’s duties never ending, and Pyra’s served the Prince with honor since long before she’d met his father.

"You are dismissed," Pyra huffs. She gestures towards the door. "Do not wake your sisters."

Aurum nods, trying to swallow past the lump in his throat as he tries to force himself back into his body. "Yes, Mother. Good night."

It isn't returned.

He shuts his parents' door as quietly as he can, turning the knob as it latches so it doesn't click loudly. His tail tucked between his legs, he slips back down the hallway to his and Scintilla's room. He's fighting a losing battle, his eyes stinging and blurry with tears, and by the time Aurum creaks the door to their room open, they've started dripping down his cheeks.

Aurum's nest waits for him, and he slips under the covers as quietly as he can. Best he can tell, he was successful on not waking either of his sisters. He counts it as a win.

He throws the blankets over himself, eyeing the lump Scintilla makes under her covers carefully. Her breathing is slow and steady, and he nods, knowing what she looks like when she sleeps. He's been sharing a room with her for almost two centuries now, has been practically his entire life. Iggy, his baby sister, youngest of his den, had slept in their parents' hearth far longer than Scintilla or Aurum had, and when she'd finally outgrown the habit, Aurum had been more than happy to give up his room for her.

Aurum watches Scintilla breathe for another few moments, just to make sure he’s followed through with his promise. When he's certain she's asleep, he grabs a big handful of the thickest blanket in his nest, sinking his teeth into the fur to stifle a sob.

The barrier breaks, and it all floods out of him. He sobs, curling up in on himself, knees to his chest, and he shakes. He's tired. So tired. Scared, and upset, and wailing like a brand new kit. He hates himself for it. He's almost grown, and here he is, crying so hard his tears steam up on his cheeks.

Of course his fire makes itself known now.

Aurum hates it all.

He tries to keep it quiet. He really does. But he freezes when he hears a snap of fangs from the other side of the room.

"Be fucking quiet," Scintilla hisses. Her tail unfurls from around her body, the spade smacking threateningly against her nest. She rolls over with a quiet growl. “Or I go get Mother.”

Aurum whines, caught. He turns over to face the wall, tears still streaming down his face as more shame settles into the core of his chest. His tail uncurls from around his thigh, and he takes the spade between his teeth.

He bites down until he tastes iron, willing himself to fall asleep.

Aurum's dreams have always been strange. Tonight is no exception. He finds himself in the shadow of a tall ghoul, a man he doesn't recognize. Everything's too fuzzy to make out the real details. He's lit with fire, steam and shadow obscuring the details. All Aurum can see are the broad features. His hair falls in long locs down his back, horns curving out from his head.

Aurum calls out for him, so close, yet when he tries to take a step towards this strange, familiar ghoul, he gets no closer. "Hey!" Aurum calls, reaching as far as he can.

The man pays him no mind. He does not say anything, doesn't even acknowledge that Aurum's called out to him. He starts to walk away.

“Hey!” Aurum panics, breaking into a stumbling run after the man. "Wait!"

With every step, Aurum gets further away from the man, even as he reaches with arms outstretched, runs as fast as he can. "Please don't leave me here!"

The man pauses. Looks over his shoulder. The moment Aurum meets his eye, he jolts awake in a sweaty, disheveled mess. He doesn’t fall asleep again. Mind too frantic, trying to figure out what it meant. He has no answer.

Things are still tense in the morning, a bitter taste on the back of his tongue, coating the roof of his mouth. His sisters share glances with each other as he steps out into the common room, even Iggy. She looks tired. Something like disappointment pangs sharp in Aurum’s chest, and he curls in on himself.

"Didn't sleep well," she says to no one in particular, spreading jam over a stale piece of flatbread. There's a dog-eared book in her lap, and her tail brushes against the stool leg as it sways absently behind her. Ignis ties her locs back out of her face as she eats. She doesn’t look at him. That hurts worse than anything else.

Aurum's ears pin back as Scintilla glares at him from where she sits next to their sister. "No wonder," she says dryly. Her fingers work at a piece of silver jewelry that had come off of one of her braids in the night. “Someone doesn’t know how to be considerate if the instructions were written out and shoved into his face.”

"I'm sorry," Aurum mumbles, tail curled around his calf as he goes to get himself something to eat. He knows his mother has already left for her duties, but he can't quite remember if his father had a meeting scheduled for this morning or the next day. It's always best to try and appease his denmates just in case he's still home.

Even then, it doesn't really matter if Inferno's home or not. Despite walking on eggshells around them, trying his best to be civil and accommodating, one of his sisters will find something, say something, to report back to their parents. Kicking the coals to restart the fire, whether they mean to or not.

Aurum's used to it by now anyways. No use complaining. He takes a deep breath and turns his back to rummage through a cabinet. Their eyes burn into his skull.

"Quit saying you're sorry, Aurum," Scintilla scoffs. Even with his back turned, Aurum knows his sister has her fangs bared. She sounds like their mother. "We keep going through this because you won't listen to Mother. You are ruining our lives. All you are is a broken record. You're not sorry."

His tail lashes behind him and he whirls on his feet to face her, forgetting all about finding something to eat. "Quit telling me how I feel, Till!"

She just rolls her eyes, snarling a little under her breath. "Don't call me that."

"I can't call you your name?" Aurum snaps, meeting her glare and baring his own teeth in response. "I can't call you your Prince-damned name?"

Her eyes flare with fire, smoke curling from her nostrils. "Tilly isn't my name, you belligerent asshole!"

He snarls, lunging for the counter, and she swats at him, hissing and spitting. Her claws catch the back of his hand, and Aurum shouts as she rakes them across it. "Fuck you," he snarls, clutching his hand to his chest. Dark blood oozes like magma from the cut.

"Oh, get over yourself," Scintilla says, rolling her eyes, getting up from her seat and grabbing her bag. "It's time to go, Ig. We’re gonna be late if we don’t." Ignis follows close behind her, giving Aurum one last glance as she too grabs her bag and follows her sister out the door. The anger Aurum sees there stings like salt in a cut.

He stands stock still until the door latches shut behind them. Aurum snarls under his breath, shoving the heels of his hands into his eyes. He can feel his pulse in his temple and in the gash across the back of his hand. The house is silent around him.

Aurum clenches his fists, claws digging into the meat of his palms. He hastily wipes the blood from the back of his hand. It burns. Or is it just his eyes burning that he feels?

He doesn't know and he doesn't care.

Aurum glances down the hallway to his parents' room, trying to determine if his father is still home. When Inferno doesn't come out from his own room or the living room with all of the commotion, Aurum takes a deep breath, lets it out on a sigh. He marches up the hallway and throws his bag back into his nest. Fuck it all, he's not going. He's already going to have to face his pack's disappointment for being a bad fire ghoul.

He might as well give them something different to be disappointed with. Stir it up a little bit.

Aurum heads out then, glancing down the street to his sisters' backs as he turns in the opposite direction. Fuck being a broken record, he scoffs to himself. Under the anger, a dread starts to settle in his chest. He bottles it up for now.

He keeps his head down as he walks deeper into the heart of the City. He knows his parents should both be at work, but they could very well see him ditching his tutor.

It'll get back to them eventually. Of course it will. But Aurum has things he wants to do before he has to deal with those consequences.

Aurum ducks down a side street between two tall buildings, ignoring the ghouls and demons of all elements moving around him, living their lives. He's grateful that they ignore him, despite all of the gold in his hair and ears that marks him as family of the First.

Out of the corner of his eye, the Palace looms over the rest of the skyline, growing ever closer. Aurum feels his heart race, knowing his mother, let alone the Prince Himself, are in that building, and he's walking closer like he wants to be caught.

He keeps walking, head down, breathing in the scent of a street vendor's wares, frying flatbread and sweet and savory fillings. Aurum's stomach growls. He realizes he didn't actually get a chance to eat before rushing out. There's a few coins in his pants pockets, but food can come later. He has something far more important he wants to get done first.

The Palace looms large on the hill in the center of the City when Aurum steps out of the side street. But he turns his back to it. Saint Jezebel's chapel is a much smaller building, ash grey brick and glass stained every color Aurum could ever imagine. There are grander churches, the ones he attends with his family for Black Mass.

But no one ever looks for him at Saint Jezebel's.

Aurum pushes open the door as quietly as he can, slipping inside. He takes a deep breath and lets his shoulders as he takes in the chapel. He's the only ghoul here, much to his relief. Aurum doesn't need anyone questioning him right now.

He slips into the last pew, eyes forward to the statue on the altar. She'd once been human, Up Top, a long time ago. She’s beautiful, carved from perfect white stone by a ghoul long gone by now.

Aurum clasps his fingers together, resting his wrists on the pew in front of him, before bending to press his forehead to his forearms. He takes a deep breath. "Our Father, who art in Hell," he begins, barely a breath louder than a whisper, eyes squeezed shut, focused on that little seed of flame at his very core. "Unhallowed be thy name. Cursed be thy sons and daughters, of thine nemesis who are to blame. Thy Kingdom Come, Nema."

The little speck of flame caged in his ribs, his magic, the core of his being, flickers in acknowledgment. Aurum tries to spiritually warm his hands by the flame. The Prince had made his ancestors, and by extension Aurum himself, in His own image. Had stepped forth from the fires of the Pit, unholy Creation to rival His Forsaker's.

"Infernal Majesty," Aurum whispers, the air still and quiet around him. "I offer my thanks, to be created in Your image, a creature of fire to burn away all Holy. I know this to be true, Olde One."

His eyes dart behind his eyelids. He knows he's alone. But he can feel Saint Jezebel's eyes, even as she looks through the window behind him. Above him. He wonders if she knows he’s here.

"You love Your creations, like Your father was supposed to love You. And You have made us good, and right, and powerful. I try my best to live up to that legacy, and the future You personally have seen for me."

He looks up, opens his eyes. Saint Jezebel stares out the window towards the Palace.

"Lord Lucifer, Prince Morningstar of the Nine Hells, creator and protector of Your children, I pray to borrow an ounce of the strength it took You to stand up to him. I just want to be a good son, Majesty. I want to make Mama and Dad happy, and do good by you. I don't know why I can't get better."

He hastily wipes his eyes with the back of his hand, dropping his head as he continues to pray. The tears sting the cut still there. "Unholy Lord, if all of Your children are made in Your image, why am I bad?"

The chapel is silent. Aurum's question hangs on the air. Even the little spark of magic at the very core of him, forever dancing and flickering, feels like it's frozen still. Saint Jezebel stares.

Aurum swallows hard, lowers his head again, and keeps praying. "O, most unholy Lord, grant me the sacrilege of your knowledge. Open the channels of my infernal soul and bring sweet release to the darkness inside of me. O, let my understanding of Your abhorrent secrets bring me closer to thee. Nema."

The whispered words almost seem to echo throughout the empty chapel. Or maybe Aurum just feels too small, insignificant to be heard. He asks anyways. "The dream from last night, Lord. A-are you leaving me? Am I that bad a ghoul? What's wrong with me? Why won’t it stop?"

Despite his pleas, desperation souring his scent, Aurum knows the only way he's getting an answer is if he marches right into the Palace. He’s just a kit, he knows they're not going to listen to him if he demands audience. He knows his mother likes to talk. He knows what she's said about him.

He wonders if the Prince hates him. It’s a thought that tastes bitter. But sometimes, the helpful things are. It’s almost like medicine.

Aurum stops praying. Just rests his forehead on his arms, feels the bench in front of him dig into them with the pressure. Lets himself be aware of sensation. Tries to shut off his mind. Can’t quite do it.

He’s only aware of time passing when his stomach growls. Services aren’t until the evening, but the chapel’s always open to those who need it. Which, right now, seems to be only him. He’s never been so grateful to be alone.

Aurum stretches when he stands, and is almost sent back on his ass with the force of the dread that hits him. He can’t stay here forever. And leaving means tucking his tail between his legs and sneaking back home. Walking willingly into the lion’s den.

But it’s not like he has any other choice. Aurum has to go home. Or whatever he’s walking into will be far worse when they eventually drag him back.

They’re waiting for him when he returns. Of course they are. Aurum stops in his tracks, ears pinning back and tail curling tight around his calf as his parents glare daggers at him. “M-mother, Father,” he breathes.

“Would you care to explain where you were, Aurum?” Pyra asks, her arms crossed over her chest. Her magma-like markings swirl and ripple, heat radiating off her like her anger. “Your sisters said you never showed up at the tutor’s.”

Aurum shrugs, swallowing hard as he steels himself, forcing himself to hold eye contact with his mother. “They left without me. I wouldn’t doubt that they’re making things up just to rile you up.”

“Lying isn’t a good look on you, Aurum,” Inferno warns. He bares his teeth, and Aurum fights every instinct not to bare his throat in submission. “We found your bag in your nest.”

“I’m not lying.” He at least has the audacity to look his father in the eye as he lies.

“Oh, I’m sure,” he scoffs, stepping towards him. “Get in here. Quit standing in the threshold.”

“Of course, Father,” Aurum says. Every emotion, all of the fear and doubt and anger, swirl inside his chest until all he feels is tired. He crosses his arms, mirroring his mother.

“Don’t take that tone,” he growls. Aurum just huffs.

“Now what? Let me guess. You’re just going to scream at me until you’re happy, and then send me off to bed so we can do this all again in the morning.” He’s fucking exhausted. Aurum hurts.

“We don’t do this because it makes us happy,” Pyra spits. Her eyes burn, flashing orange and red like embers kicked back to life. “We do this because you refuse to fucking listen, Aurum. You have the power to put an end to this. The ball is in your court. This is on you.”

He just laughs. It’s better than bursting into tears. Inferno lunges at him, infuriated by his blatant disrespect. Aurum flinches back, eyes wide as his father grabs him, pulling him closer to him and his mate.

“I can’t end this, because no matter what I do, it’s not good enough,” he hisses, trying so hard to hold himself together. He knows how they react when he cries. He pulls fruitlessly at his arm.

“It would be good enough if you just did what you were told and tried,” Pyra snaps. “That is quite literally all we ask for, Aurum. That does not feel unreasonable to ask for. We ask for you to just try.”

“I do!” he yells, wrenching his arm from his father’s grip. He feels his body temperature steadily rising. “That’s all I fucking do! I try, and I try, and I try, and you’re never fucking happy! What the fuck do you really want?”

For a moment, his mother just looks sad. But Aurum has no fucking pity for her, for his sisters, for his father. His parents don’t answer, just stare at him.

“What do you want,” Aurum tries again, gritting his fangs. “Tell me exactly what you want, so I can be a good enough son for you. Or is that just it, that you want a different kit because I’ve so thoroughly and repeatedly failed you?”

“Aurum, that’s not what we want and you know it-” Pyra tries to protest. Aurum just rolls his eyes.

“Am I making you a disappointment to the Prince? Am I fucking up your most honorable career, Mother? Aren’t you so disappointed that you’re not raising a good enough successor? Come on, tell me.”

“Don’t bring that into this, Aurum,” Inferno snaps, but Aurum ignores him. Much to his parents’ dismay, all they’ve really done is made him excellent at tuning them out. He cocks his head, raising his eyebrows as he waits for his mother’s answer.

“Mother, you know it’s true. The Prince blessed me, so you say, and I’m proving Him wrong.”

Pyra’s eyes ignite, and if Aurum weren’t so angry, so exhausted, he’d be truly afraid.

"You are so fucking inconsiderate!" Pyra screams, baring each of her fangs. Her markings ripple like lava, running down her arms and glowing bright. "If you were anyone else's son, they would have given up on you by now. You are squandering that blessing, and we still haven't given up on you, Aurum."

Aurum's heart and fists clench so tight he can smell blood. "Well," he says, swallowing hard to keep his voice as level as he can. "Maybe you should give up on me."

He gives his mother one last glare before he turns and walks out of the door.

"Aurum, get back here!" Inferno roars, but it's cut off as Aurum slams the door shut. With a jolt of fear, he starts to run.

Aurum doesn't look back, but he doesn't hear the door open after him. Granted, all he can hear is his heart pounding at his ribs, his panting breaths, his feet on the paving stones. He doesn't know where he's going, just lets his feet carry him away away away.

He slams open the doors to Saint Jezebel's for the second time in twenty four hours, and once again, he is alone. The offering candles flicker at her feet, lit for services that are soon to start, and the sight of fire makes Aurum's chest sting even more.

He storms up the aisle, a growl building in his throat as he reaches up to his hair. Aurum knows he doesn't have that much time before someone caves and comes looking for him. He can't go back. But he moves with purpose until he stands underneath Saint Jezebel, her eyes looking up to the window, out to the Palace.

They do not look down upon him.

With shaking fingers, Aurum takes out every last piece of adornment in his hair and ears. Each cuff and ring and charm, the gold gleaming in his palm, the tiny red gems that had been woven into his braids. It takes longer than he'd like, struggling as he makes himself bare for the first time in his life.

The pile in his hands clatters as they shake. Aurum stares at the jewelry, what had marked him as one of the First and as a ghoul in service to the Prince. Some of the pieces had been his mother's, his father's, grandparents', some from ghouls even older and long gone before Aurum had been born.

Each and every one of them had spent their lives in service to the Prince.

Aurum snarls, staring up at Saint Jezebel. His back is to the Palace. "I asked for protection," he says slowly. Something burns in his chest, nasty and acrid and curling up the back of his throat. "I begged You for safety, from them, from her, and You ignored me. I thought I was Your child! I thought You fucking cared!"

His knees tremble. If he were any less angry, adrenaline burning through him stronger than his magic ever has, he might have fallen to them.

Instead, he balls his fist around the pile of adornment. The metal digs into the cuts on his palm. He turns, staring out the stained glass window out to where the Palace sits on the hill. He hopes the Prince can hear him.

"I'm not your fucking child anymore," he snarls, chest heaving. "I'm no one's."

He turns back to the statue of Saint Jezebel and throws his adornment at her feet. "Fuck You!" he screams, drowning out the sound of the metal clattering on the marble. Aurum's eyes burn, vision hazy. "If You wanted me to care, You wouldn't have made me bad, wouldn't have given them a reason to hate me. Fuck You."

Aurum turns and storms out of the chapel, slamming the doors behind him before he starts to run. The Palace is behind him.

For the first time in his life, Aurum leaves the City. And he doesn’t turn back.

[oncemorewithwhump]

Reid gets a little too hot while working a case.

Rating: T

For the @whumperless-whump-event

Prompt: Summer is a Curse

heatstroke / panting

[terrorfullcatomizer]

Warmup sketch :) She forgo sunscreen

[ireallyamabear]

i'm serious, i can handle that it might be some kind of cancer or maybe a bad traffic accident on my bike that will get me, but the inevitable statistical bulldozer of untimely heat death around maybe 2040 when the temperature curve will have lapped my body's ability to adapt due to aging is genuinely terrifying

[wintersera]

heatstroke || omega!winter x alpha!reader

notes: i’m back after a long ass time HIII saw these pics and i had to cook something up really quick… like lord, PLEASE LORD TAKE THE WHEEL

cw: omegaverse, g!p reader, alpha reader, omega minjeong, breeding kink, biting. one mention of weed

wc: 2.9k

it’s the third day in a row where minjeong invited you over to her house in the countryside. blades of grass rustling in the late afternoon breeze while the sun still beamed brightly in the cloudless sky.

you sat outside the house, sitting on the cool wooden porch as you stared out into the distance, contemplating the last minute choice of staying over at your friends house.

this week's forecast showed a constant 35 degrees celsius and above— 95 fahrenheit and above if you’re american, across the board. the humidity didn’t help either. it felt suffocating to even move around given that the humidity felt like it had raised the temperature up way more than it should have.

you would hate it less if there were ac, but since you were staying over in her small traditional house, you had no other choice than to deal with the excruciating sun rays beaming down on your exposed skin.

sat in a simple thin tank top and short shorts, you lift up the fabric of your top, flapping it around to generate some sort of cool breeze.

as sweat dripped down your face, minjeong appeared behind you, also dripping with salty sweat down from her forehead all the way to her chin “here” she tossed you a cold beer without much care. she knew you’d catch it anyway.

“didn’t you say your fridge broke down?” the cold metal pressed against your nape felt blissful in these times. you rubbed the can all over your body before it unfortunately warmed up from both your body temperature and because of how you were sitting out in the blistering sun.

“i ran over to the vending machine down the street” minjeong sat fairly far away from you on the porch. not because she didn’t like being near you, but because somehow you were quite literally a walking heater “there was a whole line of people” the girl chuckled, popping open the can she got for herself “almost all the drinks ran out, it was crazy y/n. you should’ve seen the old lady scolding this guy for buying, like, ten drinks”

the burn of the alcohol slid down your throat. it almost sort of tasted sweet in a way, but still, it was beer, and beer was annoyingly bitter on your taste buds “i’d honestly do the same if i was there” though it was downright disgusting, the slight coldness made you chug the entire can in one go “why are you wearing that big ass long sleeved shirt, minjeong?”

“i told you~” the shorter girl whined “the electricians won’t be coming soon, so it fucked up the neighbourhood and no one has working outlets anymore”

“you don’t have any spare clothes laying around then? might as well take it off”

“yeah, no i don’t…and no, y/n. i’m not taking it off” she retorted back with an attitude “oh crap, i almost forgot to give you this” minjeong laid down to reach her bag, conveniently having stored a few ice packs in there, and took out two pre packaged ice cream cones. one strawberry, and one plain vanilla.

“yours is definitely vanilla, right?” knowing her tastes, your hand instinctively reached out for the strawberry flavoured ice cream cone. due to the heat, the cream had leaked a little bit out from the wrapper, but i guess that was to be expected anyway.

minjeong nodded, her back still against the now warm wood of the porch, unwrapping the ice cream and taking a few kitten licks.

the both of you sat in a comfortable silence for a while, watching the birds fly around whilst the cicadas buzzed loudly in the background.

“ah—“ minjeong’s little squeak caught your attention briefly, then you were back to watching the birds fly around in the sky. a few pigeons and crows flying by, nothing too out of the ordinary.

“nooo~ i’m all sticky now” you take a glance once more, then your attention returned back to the blue sky, spacing out all over again, but before you could even utter anything snarky about minjeong dropping her ice cream on herself, your head whipped around to do a double take. melted ice cream stained her last clean shirt she had, with no other choice she had to deal with the sticky fabric or just take the whole thing off.

for a second, your eyes caught a spot dribbling down her fingers and onto her wrists. her plump lips parted open for her tongue to dart out. cheeks reddened at the sight of her licking the melted… white cream…

“you know you could—“

“i’m not taking it off. it’s too embarrassing” she definitely could, after all it wouldn’t bother you all too much. you’ve seen people naked. it wasn’t that big of a deal.

“eh… too lazy to move” whilst sprawled out on the floor, her hand pulled up her shirt a little more “ahh~ that feels so much better” toned midriff exposed to the golden sun rays, the reflective light bouncing off her smooth and silky skin.

“whatever floats your boat, i guess” actually, maybe this was bothering you a little more than you had anticipated.

besides the outrageous heat, there was another issue you had that was on your mind.

although you were long term friends with minjeong, probably since you met her in highschool, you had always told her, and the people around you, that you were a full fledged beta. nothing more, nothing less.

god knows how she would react if she had found out you were a pure blooded alpha.

speaking of… you began to feel a little strange “mmm… something smells nice” images of minjeong flashed in your mind. her exposed milky thighs, that oversized shirt she pulled up to show her huggable waist and tummy, melted ice cream on the corner of her lips, and how she was so vulnerable sprawled out across the floor.

shit. oh shit… she looked way too good. so good that you could easily pick her up and do whatever you want with that petite and fragile body of hers.

before you knew it, your cock started to strain against your shorts. uncomfortable, you shifted as you sat in a less revealing manner, taking the ice cream to your lips to calm the heat rushing to your face.

now is not the time for an unexpected rut. fuck. “i’m gonna head to the bathroom real quick” it took a lot of mental strength to avoid gazing at minjeong… a lot of mental strength considering you were covering up your horrendously hard dick as you rushed past her.

“where… where is it—“ usually you had a couple rut suppressants laying around in your pockets, if not, then your bags. and if it wasn't in either, you’d run to the local pharmacy to buy a fresh set of both suppressants and scent blockers. but unlucky you had to be in the middle of the fuckass countryside with a pharmacy that sells neither.

minjeong’s scent was getting stronger, heavier. a pinch of spiced apples wafted into the bathroom unexpectedly. intoxicating. it wasn’t like she was in heat, that’s if your scent didn’t occupy her nostrils by now.

to distract your mind from plunging further into the pit of no return, or rather fantasising about plunging into minjeong’s soft thighs to bury your face right into her pussy, a cold splash of water to your face would do the trick. hopefully.

the faucet was pretty much shut tight, and living in the city for pretty much your whole entire life, you would rather stay hot and bothered— both ways, than to go out and douse yourself with cold water from the hose.

defeated, you walk with your imaginary tail between your legs, eyes averted from minjeong as you sit somewhere else in her house. preferably the furthest room away from where she was laying down.

minjeong, however, followed behind you “do you smell something weird? it smells like cedarwood and a little bit of tobacco” you froze in place for a second. maybe you should straight up tell her the truth. better off than losing your composure and submitting to your instincts in front of her.

she sat close to you despite the suffocating heat. being this close in proximity… her scent was stronger than ever. your cock throbbed in your shorts as she inspected you with curious eyes, her concentrated face wrangling in more indecent thoughts as the seconds flew by “must be someone smoking a blunt out there…” you gulped nervously.

what an obvious lie you told. she rolled her eyes at you, lightly hitting you across the shoulder with a small, amused laugh “we’re in south fucking korea, y/n. i doubt someone is openly smoking weed out in the streets” which was true god damn it.

heart drumming loudly in your chest, your eyes zeroing in on minjeong’s body, every shred of composure seemed to crumble once she checked your temperature with her shockingly cold hands “don’t…” you huff, grabbing her wrists gently “i’m okay”

“you don’t seem okay. you’re showing signs of heatstroke” to be honest, that might be the case as well, but you doubt it was heatstroke given the fact that you were obviously flustered and hot by her sudden approach “crap, and almost everything in this house is broken— y/n, come here”

“mmm…” without any access to cold water, and the cold drinks already gone alongside the ice cream, you had no choice but to suffer in silence. that is until minjeong pulled on the ends of your top. again, that rich spiced apple scent…

“take it off, it’ll be cooler for you” seeing her tiny hands on your top, sliding it off gently with her glossy eyes carefully wandering all over you shattered your last wall of composure.

you rolled minjeong over the futon mattress, her puppy dog eyes staring holes into your face “y-your scent. it’s just way too strong, minjeong” without further ado, you dived into minjeong’s neck, breathing in her delicious scent as you nudged your covered bulge against her clothed pussy.

“i knew it” a soft moan escaped from her lips, the friction between the two of you becoming hotter and hotter with each grind of your hips “you’re way too obvious”

“shut up…” the sliding door was still open to the outside, it would be risky to carry on what you were doing, especially knowing how your scent was particularly stronger in comparison to other alphas. but really, who cares? “is this even okay with you?” albeit concerned, your teeth still grazed her neck gently, kissing and sucking her skin in a way to not so permanently mark her up.

“why else do you think— mmm… that i’ve been inviting you around so often. just… hurry up. you’re triggering my heat” her words alone made you ecstatic. to be fair, you were pent up lately. you continued to rut into her, holding up her thighs as your bulge was threatening to burst through your shorts. in due time, slick began to drip from her hole, dampening both your shorts and her panties.

“can i let loose?” you were already sliding off her panties, following the removal of yours straight after. minjeong’s legs spread wide open for you, her pretty pink folds slathered with her slick, and her puffy clit that looked so sensitive to touch. she stared right into your eyes and gave you a nod of approval.

you manage to push yourself all the way inside of her tight pussy, molding her walls to accommodate the size of your girthy cock. minjeong wrapped her arms around your neck, her nails digging deep and breaking the skin on your back, only making you push as deep as you can in return. her wetness made your entry much easier than you had thought. she just looked way too tiny to take your entire length. this girl was just full of surprises.

sooner or later you would give into your biological urges, and so would minjeong. you could feel it now actually. the primal desire to breed her until she would bear your pups, the need to mark her, to make her yours. you could feel your rationality being thrown out the window, replaced by pure animalistic lust “je..jesus christ, so fucking thick…”

minjeong tried to gather what was left of her scattered thoughts into coherent sentences, but the way your cock filled her up rendered her speechless. you hadn’t moved at all, and yet she was digging her claws into your back as if you were slamming your hips into her.

“i haven’t even moved yet” you chuckled, moving your hips slowly to test the waters. her warmth coated your entire length, feeling as you were melting by simply being inside of her.

testing the waters was not enough for you, you craved for more. a rougher and faster pace would suffice, but you didn’t know if minjeong could handle you that well. after all, the two of you never fucked before.

no, it really wasn’t enough. you had to fuck her hard whether or not she was prepared “gonna… go rough” hands on each side of her waist, using her body, you pushed and pulled her onto your cock. you met with each thrust, burying your tip further and further inside with as much vigour as humanly possible.

buried between the crook of her neck, your lips feverishly pecked at her skin once again, savouring the salty taste of her sweat on the tip of your tongue all while inhaling her addictively sweet and rich scent. all for you to keep for yourself.

on the other hand, minjeong was fairly inexperienced. her thighs began to slowly close, but with your strong grip, you kept them wide open for you to easily slide in and out of her pussy “mi…njeong” you call out to her as you push down on her tummy, locking eyes with the teary eyed girl “g-get on top of me”

you leaned back onto the futon mattress, straightening minjeong’s back as she straddles your lap. the position you were in made it possible to go as deep as minjeong wanted to go, but that didn’t mean she was in control.

“s’too… too big” strings of slick dripped down her thigh, pooling onto your pelvis. you paid no mind to the mess, rather, you encouraged it even further by toying with her overly sensitive clit “f-fu..ck— oh my god, y/n”

every moan urged you to play with her more. not one, but two fingers rubbed circles against her clit, collecting her slick time to time before going back in to do the same motions. it was a win-win situation. each circular motion caused her to clamp down hard on your cock.

but still, it wasn’t enough for either of you.

changing position for possibly the last time, minjeong laid flat on her stomach, as you pound her pussy from behind. with each thrust, the sounds of your hips smacking into her ass sounded throughout the room, and possibly bleeded out onto the empty streets of the village, disrupting the neighbourhood with your moaning and groaning, and minjeong’s cries of pleasure too.

poor minjeong couldn’t speak properly. words she wanted to moan, came out as garbled nonsense, cries and whines too as your relentless rhythm fucked her until she couldn’t even think properly anymore.

at this point, the room was steaming. the scent of you and her mingling with the sweat formed from the intensive heat outside, and the heat generated between the both of you. to say the least, the room reeked of sex.

messy and rough sex.

seconds into kissing her nape, you could feel the tightening of minjeong’s cunt restrict the movement of your thrust, making it a lot more difficult to catch your high, yet somehow the grip brought you closer towards the limit.

now, you could see minjeong clawing into her mattress, scratching the fabric that held all the foam together. her breath became jagged, grunting and groaning harshly till her voice became hoarse with how much she was calling out your name.

“god… i’m gonna— fuck, y/n i’m cumming, i’m gonna cum” claws ripping the linen fabric of the mattress, minjeong lets out a high pitched whimper, her body convulsing as you thrust relentlessly into her.

quickly, your sharp canines sank into her nape by instinct as she came, lessening the pain for marking and replacing it with searing hot pleasure.

still, with you still raring to go, you kept on going until you couldn’t last much longer either. your grip of minjeong’s ass as you pounded harshly into her overstimulated pussy was the final straw. your knot swelled eventually, locking the two of you in place as thick strings of semen poured into her, filling her up to the brim.

laid on top of minjeong, your breath slows, and so does hers “s-sorry… i didn’t mean to claim you” you say, yet your actions speak otherwise, inhaling in her scent to calm yourself down from the intensive orgasm “it’s kind of your fault though. teasing me with that ice cream and that shirt”

“to be honest, i just wanted to see how far you’d stick with that whole beta persona” minjeong huffed into the pillow, stroking your arm as your knot began to lessen, semen now oozing out from her hole “so worth it actually…”

“yeah, but now you’re gonna bear my pups now…” you huff into her neck.

“so worth it” now that your knot began to shrink in size, minjeong turned around, gazing longingly into your eyes with a look you’ve never seen from her before “that just means that you’re gonna be stuck with me forever now, right?” she smirked, placing a sweet kiss on your lips.

“mmm, yeah i like that thought”

[malereadermaniac]

Innocent ~ Natsumi x Male Reader

The tall, handsome man has surprisingly little experience, he's too innocent to understand why he's so drawn to you Top!Natsumi x Bottom!Reader word count: 2.7k Nsfw / MDNI ~ amab m!reader / FDNI Cw: blowjob (giving), Fingering (receiving), Heat = sweat kink, body worship (recieving), Praise (recieving), feet, scent kink

The sun had been scorching all campers since it dawned this morning, most campers having to pour water on their heads or go shirtless the whole day to avoid heatstroke. Your activity for the day was simple, bake! You and Hiro were really the only two competent men in your cabin when it came to baking, so you two decided on a recipe and gave out a task to everyone; the recipe? Apple pie. The task wasn't simply to just bake, it was to find ingredients and make everything from scratch, and both you and Hiro knew that there were apple trees in the forest behind you cabin. And so, that's how you ended up with Natsumi all alone, tasked with bringing back a few apples back to your cabin - two people necessary due to the height of the trees.

Chatting on your hunt for apples was enjoyable, Natsumi was definitely your favourite cabin-mate, organised and not too shabby looking, but his personality and kind-hearted personality is what made you enjoy his presence. The tall man also loved spending time with you, he was friendly with everyone by nature but when it came to you, Natsumi just felt as if you he needed you to be a close friend; not just someone he politely waved or smile to from time to time. But your friendliness with each other did seem to walk on the line between romantic and platonic feelings...

Take for example the fact that on your walk towards the apple trees, you have had to force your eyes away from Natsumi's slim-fit build at least 5 times already; his quite large muscles on his arms and his heard abs sweating and shining from the searing sun, it made your heart skip multiple beats. But whilst you faced your small feelings for the handsome swimmer, he did not. Not because he didn't like you or want to! But rather, Natsumi as a person isn't that great with romantic or sexual feelings... Which has not only led to the poor man questioning his seemingly random affinity for you, but also popping quite a few boners around you.

Speaking of which (the boners and the feelings that is) was occurring right this very second. Once you two had found some trees with actual apples on them you had to figure out how to reach them.

"Wanna get on my shoulders or should I get on yours?" You ask, a s mile on your had as you tilt your head in a questioning manner

"U-Uhm.. You can get on my... my shoulders!" Natsumi stutters out, unusual for his well-spoken self, a blush also adorning his face - but he just put that down to the heat.

You chuckle at the handsome man's response. You weren't a narcissist or anything, but you knew that you were definitely above average in terms of looks - so you were used to guys being a little nervous around you, you found it cute. You also understood why Natsumi was continuing to stutter when you had made it onto his broad shoulders, your plump and boiling, sweaty thighs enveloping Natsumi's tan face. The feeling of you on him, around him, along with the feeling of your crotch rubbing against his head as you reached back and forth for the apple easily resulted in a lot of blood rushing south of the innocent man - Natsumi blushing profusely at the situation and at the embarrassment of popping a boner in this moment. After getting down off of the muscular man, you noticed it (the massive tent in his shorts that is), but you didn't mention it - Natsumi's face already beat red and the handsome man avoiding looking into your eyes, you felt it was a little unnecessary to call it out. That doesn't mean that you didn't take a note of it, though, or that the fact that your camp crush clearly had some sort of feelings for you.

After gathering a couple of apples and making your way back to the camp, you watched as Natsumi headed straight to his bed and 'smoothly' (very not smoothly) use a pillow to hide his little (big) problem. None of the others noticed though, so you all continued on with baking; a soft blush on your face when you noticed the navy haired man staring at you the entire length of the task. With the pie baked, the others left to hand it in, leaving you all alone in the cabin with a still very embarrassed Natsumi. With the temperature still incredibly high, the two of you were half-naked, skin shiny from the beads of sweat on your bodies - you couldn't help but throw a few glances Natsumi's way, his rock-hard abs glimmering so sexily, along with his pecs and obvious V-line. Natsumi on the other hand literally could not take his eyes off of you...

The way that your sweat shined so beautifully on your (s/t) skin, beads of sweat running along your abdomen as you sexily stretch out on your bed - fuck man... Natsumi's problem had hardened ten fold! When you catch his eyes with yours, you flash him a warm smile, chuckling at the soft pink hue on his usually tan face. "ya know... you don't have to be embarrassed about it" You say, lifting your upper body off of your bed in an upward dog pose; your nipples out for Natsumi to ogle at, along with your sexy arms and brief showing of your abdomen "A-About what?" The flustered man responds, his sharp jawline being shown off as Natsumi turns his head away from you, unable to comprehend why he felt his stomach do backflips whenever he looks at you "Your little... hah... big friend~ It's perfectly natural" You say with a smile, pointing at his poorly hidden boner in Natsumi's khaki shorts The man short circuits at your words. Not only did you just outright mention it, but did you just compliment him?? Now, Natsumi isn't experienced at all, he doesn't understand shit like this or whether or not having a big dick was good or bad... But the tone you used? The comforting smile on your face? Your personality and words could make this man cum alone!

A silence fills the warm cabin, not an awkward silence, but a silence no doubt. That is until your soft voice breaks the thick, sexual tension once more "Want me to help you out?" You ask, working up the courage to make the first move on mr. perfect "How would you do that, (Y/n)?" Natsumi retorts after a moment of pondering, his eyes glued to yours You chuckle back at Natsumi and stand up from your bed, making your way over to the muscular swimmer. Receiving a quick nod from the sheepish man after mumbling 'lemme take the lead...', you go ahead and hold yourself above your shirtless camp-mate; trapping the inexperienced man below you, watching as Natsumi's eyes wander your shirtless body, down to your crotch and back up to your soft face. 'can I kiss you?' you say with a smile, to which Natsumi replies 'O-Of course', his eyes glued onto your soft looking lips. With that, you lowered your face to the sharp-featured one below you, you soft lips pushing against Natsumi's as you took control. It didn't take long for the innocent man to be whimpering into your moan, a few moans escaping his lips from your knee rubbing against his hard dick. Although you didn't want to rush the soft moment, Natsumi was becoming more desperate by the moment, which led to his tongue dancing in a tango with yours as the handsome virgin below you moaned and groaned into your mouth. Your hands roamed the tan man's muscular body as you made-out with him, your thumbs playing with his perky nipples, your palm running along his strong abs and hips as your other held you up above him.

Eventually, you pulled away. Panting above Natsumi, you watched as the man desperately tried to reach your addictive lips once more, his hips humping so sexily against your knee - who knew it would be so hot to hold the reigns once in a while! To soothe the horny man below you, you began trailing down his hot, sweaty body with soft kisses; worshiping his tanned, muscular, slim, masculine body with soft praises and kisses. You made yourself comfortable between Natsumi's legs, resting your head cutely against his muscular thigh, hand running up and down his leg, ever so close to his twitching, clothed cock. Teasing Natsumi resulted in sexy whines accidentally erupting from the man's throat, his eyes glued onto you, pleading with you to do more as you rub your nose gently against his covered hard-on - his briefs absolutely drenched in his sweat and musky scent. But you weren't that mean, so you gave in to Natsumi's needs and pulled down his tight underwear, revealing his fucking massive cock. To say it shocked you would be an understatement. You were surprised that the man was a virgin with a weapon like this between his legs, but whatever, you didn't like to share.

The air in the room had gotten even hotter, aided by Natsumi's heavy, hot pants as he moaned like never before. Natsumi had never even really masturbated before, so a blowjob actually rocked his world! Your eyes were glued to Natsumi's flushed complexion and sweaty body as you sloppily sucked his veiny cock; the man too big to easily deepthroat, so you decided on sloppily licking at and sucking on his cute pink tip and veiny, and jacking off whatever your mouth struggled to reach. Natsumi's moans alone could make you cum, the man sounding so sexy as he moaned incoherent words along with your name so incredibly loud, with such evident pleasure dripping off of his voice. Natsumi's words were also incredible, praises falling off of his tongue would feed your ego and your dick so, so much - constant praises of your beauty/looks, your skill, and how good you were making him feel; it was all so fucking hot! But it wasn't just his moans and praises, Natsumi's body was contorting in pleasure, his hands in your hair tightly pulling you onto his dick as his knees were raised, his feet on either side of your head as his thighs encapsulated your head. Fuck man, sucking off Natsumi was more pleasurable than being fucked by some of your past flings! It didn't take long for Natsumi to cum, he had been holding back so well, but one look at your panting face, your tongue out so sexily with spit and precum rolling down your chin was enough to send Natsumi way over the edge. Tightening his masculine fingers in your hair, Natsumi groaned a deep "(Y/n)" and pulled you with all of his might onto his dick, forcing your face to smash against his pelvis, his pubes stuffing your nose and his massive cock going fully down your throat. You chocked on the massive man's cock, doing your best to relax your throat to be able to breath as Natsumi shot what felt like gallons of his thick, hot cum down your throat; the white substance shooting directly down your throat, pooling within your mouth and even spilling down your chin - this man was pent the fuck UP.

After coming down from his high, the navy-haired man looked down at you, seeing the fucking damage he'd done, and finally pulled his 8 inch monster out of your mouth. Hundreds of apologies flooded out of Natsumi as he grabbed some tissues from his bedside and tried to clean you up; but he couldn't deny that watching his cum drool out of your mouth and down your chin, your teary eyes looking at him with a soft smile on your face as you panted like a horny fucker, holy shit did it turn Natsumi on even more. But slowly, Natsumi's 'sorry's transitioned into 'Thank you's, his voice a little more confident as the handsome man looks down at you, a lazy smile on his face as he basks in the afterglow. After cleaning up, you chat with Natsumi, the post-nut clarity kinda hitting the sharp-featured man as he talks to you about why he was really a virgin; you two talked for a while, about his brother, how gay sex actually works n shit, everything really. That's why, when you went to stand up, Natsumi grabbed your wrist - his sweaty palm nice and warm as his masculine, big, veiny hand wrapped around your wrist. "huh? you want more or something, handsome?" you tease, a quizzical look on your face as your eyes look into Natsumi's "Uhh.... I wanna make you feel good too" The sexy swimmer says, looking up at you with doe-eyes, innocent, attractive eyes. Fuck... how could you not fold?

And that's how you ended up in your next position, with your legs up on Natsumi's broad shoulders and your shorts slid off on one of your legs. The sun had began to set, the golden-hour lighting making you look fucking incredible below Natsumi as his long, masculine fingers made you moan his name like a chant. The inexperienced man couldn't take his eyes off of you, sure he'd seen some porn here and there, but holy shit you looked ethereal; with the sunset's gleam making your sweaty body shine, your eyes rolling back and your sexy panting, you just turned Natsumi on so much! Your praises of his fingers and skill egged the tanned male on, applying what he'd learned in a crash-course in fingering you'd given him. Natsumi instantly found your prostate from how long his fingers were, the man curling his two fingers into your pleasure spot and making you see stars; his eyes couldn't stop darting across your whole body, admiring your flushed face, your sweaty body, your twitching, precum leaking dick, your tight hole around his digits, and Natsumi didn't expect to enjoy the way that your sweaty feet curled in pleasure from his attacks on your prostate. The handsome man did his best to pleasure your whole body, not just your tight walls, kissing your nipples and chest in doing so, marking and biting your thighs and legs and kissing your feet - because, yes, the man is so tall that by the time your legs reach his shoulders, only your feet make it onto them. Natsumi was practically worshiping your body as he made you feel so incredibly good, praising your body and your tightness and warmth as he kissed your hot skin, his dick fully hard again just from the way your hips twitched and buckled, lifted off of the bed towards him with every rub of his fingertips against your p-spot.

Finally, after more kisses with a lot of tongue from Natsumi and more magic work from the man's incredible fingers, you were pushed way past the edge. You moaned Natsumi's name as you gripped at the sheet below you and at whatever skin of his you could reach, your legs twitching in rhythm with your cock as you covered your stomach with your cum; the sight made Natsumi blush, so erotic yet so adorable to him - the man was falling in love. Your panting and soft moans filled the room and the navy-haired man's ears, the air was still as hot as ever and your bodies were sweatier than before, but you both could give less of a shit; the two of you stuck looking into each other's eyes as you panted and smiled, fuck you were both falling head over heels! But after Natsumi breaks a very sloppy and passionate kiss with you to fumble iwth his belt in order to pull out his now re-hardened 8-incher, the attention of the two of you was redirected to the slam of the cabin door; behind which was a very happy looking Hiro, whose face dropped when he saw what filthy activites were occuring in the shared cabin. For God's sake! Now the whole cabin knows you and Natsumi fucked!

Oh well~

You could deal with an angry Hiro and Yoichi for an hour or two if it meant you and Natsumi were now basically seen as a couple by your cabin-mates - and you're sure Natsumi didn't mind either from the way he chuckled as he looked at you with a hand scratching his head.

[littlest-w01f]

Cold

"Temprature play" with:

Zayne x Reader

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

Summary: After you fall sick with a heatstroke, Zayne takes on the responsibility of taking care of you

Cw:

You curled up on the couch, your body wracked with heat. Zayne knelt beside you on the bed, concern etched on his face as he gently brushed sweat-dampened strands of hair from your forehead. His fingers lingered, tracing the curve of your cheek before cupping your flushed skin. "I'm here, sweetheart. Let me help you undress." He murmured, his breath warm against your ear. "We need to get you comfortable and chilled."

With tender care, Zayne slipped off your shoes, you helped him the best you could, then peeled away your clothes until you lay bare beneath the thin blanket. His gaze roamed over your curves, drinking in the sight of your skin and watching the goosebumps on your body formed by the cool air. After he pulled at the sweats you were wearing, his hands skimmed down your sides, feeling the rise and fall of your chest. "I've got you, y/n."

Zayne's hands continued their soothing exploration as he set you in his bed, his hands getting colder from his Evol to counter the heat from yours. He gently kissed your temple, his cold lips lingering there for a moment before trailing lower, brushing across your cheekbone.

"Some cold lemonade should help you feel better," He hummed, "And you need some electrolytes in you."

"Zayne...?" You mewl softly, head aching a little, "Just stay for a moment..."

"Then let's try to cool you down, Hmm?" He whispered, slipping a hand beneath the blanket to press against your sides. His hand is like ice against your burning flesh, providing instant relief. His other hand found its way to your stomach, lightly circling around your belly.

His kisses trailed further, exploring the sensitive hollow of your throat while his thumb reached up to trace the underside of your breast, teasing at the edge of your nipple. The sensation sent sparks through your veins, momentarily distracting you from the heat.

"Mmm…" A soft moan escaped your lips as Zayne's thumb teased along your breasts, his touch both cooling and arousing against your feverish skin. His mouth continued its path of hot kisses down your neck, teeth grazing ever so slightly against your pulse point. One hand remained splayed across your stomach, pressing firmly as if to anchor you, while the other slid fully around to cup the weight of your breast. His thumb and forefinger rolled and pinched you, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

"I want to make you feel good, sweetheart," Zayne murmured against your skin, his voice low and husky with desire. "Let me take care of you."

With the temperature dropping from his Evol, your body began to relax further under Zayne's attentive ministrations. The cool air caressed your damp skin, making goosebumps rise in its wake. Your breathing slowed, and the pounding in your head receded as the chill seeped into your muscles, easing the tension.

Zayne's skilled fingers continued their exploration, gliding down your torso to dip into your navel before resuming their path southward. He traced the curve of your hip, his palm skating over the swell of your ass before delving between your thighs. His hand was a haven of icy calm amidst the simmering heat of your core. "Mmm, you're so responsive," Zayne purred, his voice tinged with admiration and lust. "Your body craves my touch."

The coolness of Zayne's hand against your heated flesh felt divine, each stroke sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. His fingers danced along your slick folds, teasing at your entrance before slipping inside. The contrast of his cold fingers against your wet warmth made your back arch off the bed, a silent plea for more.

"Mmm… Zayne," you whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper. Every movement he made only intensified the throbbing ache between your legs. His touch was both soothing and sinful, and you found yourself craving more of this strange yet exquisite sensation.

"You're so wet, sweetheart," Zayne groaned, adding another finger to stretch and fill you even more. His thumb circled your clit, applying just enough pressure to send shocks of pleasure radiating outward from your core.

As Zayne's fingers worked within you, his thumb relentlessly coaxing circles around your clit, you could do nothing but squirm beneath him. Each thrust of his fingers, each circle of his thumb, brought you closer to the edge. The combination of his cold touch and the building heat within you was an intoxicating blend of sensations.

"Zayne…" you gasped out his name, your voice laced with need. "More… please."

Without warning, Zayne pulled his hand away, leaving you empty and achingly needy. But instead of stopping there, he lifted your leg higher onto his shoulder, exposing you further to his hungry gaze. His free hand moved to grip your thigh tightly, holding it open for him as he leaned down to place a kiss directly onto your dripping slit.

As Zayne's fingers plunged deeper into your slick cunt, you could feel the chill of his Evol spreading through your most intimate places. Each thrust sent tendrils of icy bliss spiraling outwards, contrasting deliciously with the scorching heat still pulsing within you. Your inner walls clenched greedily around him, trying to draw more of that refreshing coolness into your overheated depths.

"That feels amazing," You gasped out, grinding shamelessly against his hand as he worked you open. Your hips rocked in time with his strokes, chasing the dual sensations of frigid ecstasy and fiery need that consumed you.

Droplets of perspiration trickled down your temples despite the cooling effect of Zayne's touch, evidence of the inferno still raging beneath your skin. "I love how you respond to me." He whispered looking up at you from between his legs.

"Oh... Oh Zayne..." His fingers moved expertly within you, curling upward to brush against your sweet spot with every plunge. Each flicker of contact there sent bolts of pleasure rocketing through your system, intensifying the heat coiling low in your abdomen. You squirmed beneath him, desperate for more of that tantalizing friction.

The cool air kissed your damp skin, chilling the sweat that clung to your curves. Despite the soothing effects of his Evol, your body was aflame with arousal. "More… please," you pleaded softly, writhing underneath him.

Zayne's fingers continued their relentless assault on your cunt, curling and twisting to hit all the right spots. The coolness of his touch was amplified tenfold when he brushed against your sensitive insides, sending shivers racing up and down your spine.

"Oh yes, just like that," You moaned, bucking your hips against his hand. Your inner walls gripped tightly around him, milking his digits for every bit of pleasure they could offer.

As the tension built within you, Zayne leaned down to capture one of your nipples between his teeth. He nibbled and sucked gently on the hardened peak while his free hand wandered down to tease your clit. The combination of sensations was too much; with a loud cry, you came hard on his fingers. Waves of orgasmic bliss washed over you, leaving you panting and spent beneath him.

As the aftershocks of your climax rippled through you, Zayne kept up his relentless pace, coaxing every last tremor of pleasure from your quivering body. His fingers were a masterful blend of cool and hot, driving you towards new heights of bliss.

"Mmm, look at you," Zayne growled approvingly, watching as your body convulsed beneath him. He slowly withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his lips to taste the essence of your arousal. "Delicious."

He lowered himself onto the bed, positioning himself between your spread thighs. His cock, hard and ready, pressed insistently against your soaked folds. "Mmm, fuck me... Please."

With a low, guttural groan, Zayne's clothes were on a pile on the floor, he pushed forward, pressing you down further between him and the bed. "If you insist. How can I say no?" Your body instinctively wrapped around him, relishing the feeling as he presed into you.

"Oh fuck, you feel so lovely," He hissed through gritted teeth, his hips beginning to move in a slow, deliberate rhythm. Each thrust dragged him deeper, hitting points inside you that made stars explode behind your eyelids.

Zayne's cool palms settled on either side of your head, his face inches from yours as he pounded into you with increasing fervour. The scent of sweat and sex hung heavy in the air, mingling with the faint hint of his Evol's chill. It was intoxicating, and you found yourself clinging to him, nails digging into his back as you met his thrusts with eager rolls of your own hips.

"Za- Z-" You hid your face in his neck, moaning loudly as Zayne's powerful thrusts drove him deeper into you. The sound of your ragged breaths and wanton cries echoed through the room, mingling with the lewd slap of skin on skin as he took you hard and fast.

"Take it, baby," Zayne grunted, his voice strained with exertion. "You feel incredible wrapped around me." His hands roamed your curves, squeezing and kneading as he pistoned in and out of you with reckless abandon.

The coolness of his Evol seemed to intensify with each passing moment, seeping into your very marrow and heightening every sensation. It was a stark contrast to the blazing heat of your arousal, creating an addictive mix that left you teetering on the brink of another explosive climax.

Zayne's movements became erratic, his thrusts growing harder and faster as he chased his own release. The bed creaked beneath you, the headboard slamming against the wall with each powerful snap of his hips.

"Yes, yes, don't stop!" You cried out, your nails raking down his back as you teetered on the edge of oblivion. The dual sensations of your scorching heat and his icy coolness had you wound tighter than a bowstring, ready to snap at any moment.

"Ah- I'm close... I'm close, my love." With a final, brutal thrust, Zayne buried himself to the hilt inside you. His face melted in your neck, a groan leaving his lips, his pulsing cock erupted in long, pulsing spurts, painting your inner walls with his essence. The sensation triggered your own climax, and you moaned his name as your world shattered into a million glittering pieces.

As the last echoes of your shared orgasms faded away, Zayne collapsed on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. You could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat against your chest, matching the rapid cadence of your own.

After a moment, Zayne lifted his head to gaze down at you, his eyes warm with satisfaction and affection. A lazy smile played on his lips as he brushed a strand of sweat-dampened hair from your forehead.

"Now I that fucked you, you will have your water." Zayne rolled off of you with a satisfied grunt, his tone strict, fully your doctor, leaving no room for disagreements, his softened cock slipping from you. He stretched languidly before padding out of the room, not caring of his nakedness. He retrieved a pitcher of ice-cold water and poured two glasses full to the brim. The condensation already beading on the outside of the glasses promised a refreshingly cool drink.

"Cuddle first?" You asked, sitting up when he entered back.

He gave you a gentle smile, "Sure, we'll clean later."

Zayne handed you the glass mixed with your prescribed electrolytes, climbing back under the covers beside you. He settled comfortably against the pillows, one arm draped casually across your waist to pull you in his lap as he sipped his water.

{LaDs Kinktober Taglist: @m00nchildwrites}

[glitchfiles]

heatstroke. [ljn]

pairing. mechanic! jeno x (afab) reader

wc. 3.8k+

cw. SMUT MINORS DNI!!, hard dom! jeno, profanity/cursing, outdoor/car sex, oral (m receiving), throat fucking, boot grinding, rough sex, degradation, name-calling (’slut’, ‘fucktoy’), etc…

an. i had this idea in june, but haven't had much time to write until recently. i had to rush a bit because i wanted to get it out before august/summer ends, I just made it lol. if there’s typos… oops… hope you enjoy :3

just before the muggy summer air lulls you to sleep, a series of sharp knocks at your windows jolts you fully conscious. as your eyes snap wide open, you turn to look to see a man standing outside of your car. he can tell by the bemused expression on your face you're struggling to figure out why he's here.

"roadside assistance, you called." realisation washes over your features, and the mystery man can't help but find it amusing how little control you have over your countenance.

you open the door slowly, allowing him time to move back, and groggily step out of the car. rays of sun prick your skin - the floral mini dress you had on left more of you exposed than covered.

"thanks for coming," you laugh nervously.

the sun is blinding, you can just make out the figure before you as you give your knight in shining armour a squinted once over.

his uniform consists of navy overalls and heavy boots; though he had taken the top half of his overalls off and tied the sleeves around his waist, you're sure he's sweltering. the white tank top he wore hugs his broad, muscular torso, which you can't help but ogle at.

"no problem. any idea what the issue is?" as he nears your car, you get a better look at his face. and just as you feared, he has a face to match the body.

his features are sharp, from his jaw to the upturned corners of his mouth to his nose. in contrast, the way his eyes soften up as he smiles at you fills your stomach with butterflies.

you catch yourself then clear your throat before responding. "no, it just broke down. i'm lucky i pulled over in time."

if you were trying to hide that you were checking him out, you were doing the worst job ever.

unabashed stares were far from foreign to him, he couldn’t say he minded them - especially when they were from someone cute.

he takes a quick walk around the vehicle, checking for any external damage. "tyres look fine," he mumbles to himself.

then he stops at the hood to pop it open. a frown settles upon his features as he begins to try to diagnose the issue at hand.

you don't even try to understand what he's doing, you're honestly far more concerned with analysing every square inch of the adonis before you.

"you okay standing out here? it's pretty hot," he turns to you. you had lost track of time, has it been a few minutes or a few hours? "you can sit in my truck, it has ac, or i can get you some water."

"just the water is fine!" you respond, even though cold air sounded like paradise right now actually, "i've always been somewhat interested in cars and stuff." you lied again.

"oh, really?" he raised an eyebrow, unconvinced.

"yeah, my dad used to fix old cars up - he'd make me hand him tools from time to time." you walked closer to him, leaving a few centimetres between your bodies.

"then, you wouldn't mind helping me out a bit? i think i know what the issue is here." you nodded vehemently, unable to stop yourself from forming an eager smile.

only when he walks away do you realise you have been holding your breath. you barely have time to catch it before he's back with two chilled water bottles in one hand and a hefty toolbox in the other. bulging muscles ripple across his arms, the sight puts a fluttery feeling in the pit of your stomach.

he sets the box down with a light grunt, then looks at you kindly and with an outstretched arm to hand you a cool bottle. the fact his hand, which you notice is comparatively larger and rougher, brushes against yours only exacerbates your condition.

you can barely look him in the eye as you take the bottle from him; you waste no time before cracking it open and gulping down a considerable amount. his eyes can’t help but follow the droplets of water that escape the corner of your mouth, trickling down your chin, your neck and then your chest before disappearing between your cleavage (which he had been trying to ignore from the moment you stepped out of your car).

“someone’s thirsty,” he mentally slaps himself and comments with a chuckle to ease the moment of tension.

he takes a swig of water before putting on gloves, picking a took out of the box and getting to work.

for a moment, only the sound of distant wildlife in the surrounding area can be heard. leaving you ample time to watch. the way his brows furrow as he concentrates on his job is more attractive than it should be.

“my name is jeno by the way,” he breaks the silence. you hadn’t even thought to ask, you quickly reply with your name. “where are you heading?”

“my friend’s place for a barbecue. this was supposed to be a shortcut, but it ended up leaving me stranded in the middle of nowhere.” he lets out a sympathetic hum before letting a comfortable silence fall between the two of you again.

he hands whatever tool he has in his hand to you and asks, “can you pass me the torque wrench?”

you stare at him blankly then you stare down at the array of tools laid out. the temperature of your body increases even further as he smiles at you knowingly.

“hard to think with the heat, huh?” he chuckles walking past you to pick up the tool you would have never guessed was what he was asking for. “don’t worry about it, you can just stand and watch,” he said as though that wasn’t what you had been doing up until now anyway.

he’s sure you’re not actually interested in cars in the slightest but rattles on about the topic. most of it all flies over your head but you nod and giggle as your gaze trails over the veins on his arms are he tightens bolts.

after a short while, he stands up straight. wiping his forearm over his sweaty forehead he declares he thinks he’s done.

“key?” he plucks off his gloves as you fish it out of your purse and hand it over to him. “glad you know that one.” he teases.

you watch with bated breath as he gets into your car to start it; sure enough, the engine purrs when he turns the key.

he jumps out of the car and flashes you a proud smile that makes you melt more than the heat.

"so...” he starts tucking his gloves into his pocket then he rubs his hands together before placing them on his hips. "how would you like to pay?"

"oh yeah, let me just get my purse. how much was it?." you open your bag to rummage around for your wallet as he tells you the price.

your phone…

sunglasses… 

a pack of gum…

lip gloss…

no wallet.

you smile up at him nervously, excusing yourself to go look in your glove compartment.

jeno follows you around to see you bent over and rummaging around. he loses track of time, too preoccupied with the way your dress rides up to barely cover your ass. he didn't notice how translucent the fabric was until now, he could just make out the outline of the thong you were wearing.

while he blissfully enjoys the show, dread fills you at the realisation you may not be able to pay. you desperately look for stray bits of cash, but you can’t seem to find even a penny in your car all of a sudden.

your frantic search yields absolutely nothing. you take a second to steel yourself before stepping back onto the ground and turning towards him with a doe-eyed guilty expression that makes something stir in his abdomen.

"i swear i had it but-" you mutter, finally moving to sit facing him in the passenger’s seat. he suddenly feels a lot bigger now you're staring up at him and he's looking down at you. "but it's not- i don't have any money so-"

"well, there are other ways to pay." only when the words leave his mouth does jeno realise there is room for misinterpretation but, for some reason, he doesn't feel like correcting himself.

maybe it was the warmth or the stress of your predicament, but your mind began to entertain itself with thoughts that had nothing to do with getting this man that you had only met today his money.

you blinked dumbly, absolutely none of the cogs turning in your brain as you started eyeing him again. starting at the neckline of his tank and then fixating on his deep collarbones momentarily before drifting down.

sweat had turned the white cotton covering his torso almost transparent. the material clung to the ridges of his toned chest and abs, leaving almost nothing to the imagination.

your mouth went dry; you were eyeing him like a dehydrated desert wanderer who had just spotted an oasis.

“like… how?” you blink up at him as though you don’t catch his drift. the innocence you feign starts to chip away at his self-control.

though he comes off as rather relaxed on the outside, jeno is rather rigid with himself. he had to be to run a business with any success. but at the end of the day, he was his own boss; no one had to know about this.

he glanced around. you were on a road in the middle of nowhere surrounded by woodland and he couldn't remember the last time he had seen another car drive past.

he could bend his rules this once for you.

“you’re not just a pretty face, you’re a smart girl, right?” finally, he gives into the desire that had been building inside of him since the moment he laid eyes on you. his charming eye-smile turns into a dark glare; his voice drops a couple octaves. “use your head.”

without another word, you stand up and sink down to squat, reluctant to get your knees dirty. you stare up awaiting further instruction.

“you know transfers are a thing, right?” he laughs sliding a hand over your cheek, feeling a switch inside of him flip. here you were debasing yourself for a man you had just met. “i think i like this much better though, clever girl.” 

he can’t believe you’re doing this.

he can’t believe he’s doing this.

you untie his overalls letting them drop down to his knees and tug down his boxers. internally you let out a sigh of relief at the sight of a well-groomed semi-hard cock. feeling it twitch up to attention as you wrap a hand around it. he groans out an obscenity as you begin to tentatively stoke him.

“you’re gonna need to do a lot more than that if you plan on giving me my money’s worth.” he tuts down at you, sliding his hand to rest on the back of your head. 

“whatever you want.” the seductive lilt of your voice makes him reel.

“whatever?” his chest rises as he takes a deep breath and forms a light grip on your locks. 

“anything.” you nod.

“then open your fucking mouth, slut.”  his voice suddenly becomes gravelly and commanding as he cranes your head back. you obediently open up for him, wrapping your lips around his tip to lap at the salty fluid that had started to spill out of it.

“hands behind your back,” the look in his eyes is wild as he watches you promptly obey him without reluctance. you want to please him, repay him for his kindness.  

you take the initiative to take him even deeper, creeping down inch by inch deeper with each bob; the more you take, the more drool escapes the corners of your mouth, dripping down in thick strings. you let out garbled moans, sending vibrations through him; his hand instinctively grips your locks, pushing his cock harshly into the back of your throat. you swallow a gag and tears prick your eyes but keep going.

“you’re so good,” he huffs, abdomen tightening, “you do this often? bet you’d let any man shove their cock down your throat, cheap fucking slut.”

you whine around him in protest, he lets you up to speak. you vehemently shake your head and choke out, “only you.“

“just for me.” his thumb softly endearingly caresses the back of your head. “god, what did i do to get this lucky.” he half mutters to himself before shoving himself back into your accepting mouth.

he continues to fuck into your face like you’re nothing but a hole and you take it. his head tips back as he lets out unbridled moans, comforted by the fact there was no one for miles to witness your debauchery, but infinitely turned on by the fact you were so out in the open.

jeno's breathing gets more ragged with each thrust, he hunches forward at the feeling of his orgasm hurtling towards him. if your mouth wasn't currently stuffed, you would smile as you brought a hand up to toy with his saliva-coated balls.

"oh my fucking- i'm cumming." it was the last push he needed before shooting his load down your throat. keeping you locked in place, nose smushed up against his pubic bone. all strength leaves your legs and you fall to your knees, the hard ground digs into your skin but the pain means nothing when he’s groaning about how well you’re taking his cum. you can barely breathe and your head is spinning but you wish you could make him cum again already. 

after a while, he settles down from his high and slowly removes himself. his hand grips firmly at your hair, keeping you in place. 

“what a fucking mess.” he sneers while admiring his work, how filthy you look kneeling before him. spit and cum cover your chin down to your chest; the low neckline of your dress is soaked. not to mention your makeup, black inky streaks ran down your cheeks. “liked taking my cock so much you forgot you had something to look pretty for.”

the look in your eyes was close to piety, unfazed that there was no way you could go to your friend’s house in this state. maybe he’d fucked your face a little too hard and knocked some sense out of you. it was the only explanation for you so gleefully offering yourself to every whim of a stranger; jeno was not a good enough man to refuse such an offer. 

“want more? you know, most of my customers tip.” he says in an expectant tone. “no pressure though.”

“wanna fuck me?” you run a finger up his thigh, skipping being coy - you needed him.

“i don’t know, can i?” he wants to toy with you, however.

“i said you can do anything, didn’t i?” you shuffle closer to him on your knees, batting your eyelashes up at him. 

“anything…” he repeats, dark thoughts run through his mind. a deep, shaky breath leaves jeno’s nostrils as he tries to contain the arousal stirring back up inside of him. he moves his leg forward, situating one of his heavy work boots between your legs; with the grasp he still has on you, he forces your core to come down against it. 

he doesn’t have to utter another word before your hips start moving. you bite your lip to contain the sounds threatening to escape you, shame finally kicking in somewhat. but he was having none of that; a sharp tug at your hair was all it took, he tipped your head back, and all the moans came spilling out. 

“good.” his praise encourages you to circle your hips faster. the panties you have on do nothing to hide how slick you are. 

you angle your hips for more stimulation, your swollen clit growing more sensitive by the second. you haven’t been at this for that long, but he can tell by the way your moans pick in pitch you’re nearly there. 

“close already?” he lifts the toe of his boot, pressing into you harder. “go ahead, cum on my boot. dirty, pathetic slut.” you whimper out pitifully as your orgasm finally wreaks you. 

he leaves you no time to recuperate before tugging your locks to make you stand and smashing his lips against yours. only now does it hit you that you’ve skipped quite a few bases, it’s the first time you’ve felt his lips against your own. 

you melt into his domineering kiss, trying your best to keep up with his lascivious pace. hands grope at your body, smoothing up your thighs and under your dress. 

a whine leaves your lips when his hands roughly squeeze your ass. he wastes no time attaching his lips to your neck, nipping at the skin as he moves to start pulling your panties off, you help him get them off the rest of the way and throw them somewhere into your car. 

deft fingers wander between your folds, collecting your wetness on his fingertips. the slightest brush against your raw clit makes you shudder in his grasp.

“gonna use this wet little pussy, just like i did your throat.” he whispered hotly against the skin of your neck, teasing your miserably sopping slit. “and you’re gonna take it like the good fucktoy you are.” 

now’s the point he’d finger a girl open a bit, maybe make her cum again. he’s usually kinder, more careful, less selfish; all that runs through his mind are animalistic thoughts of ruining you. 

you see the moment his resolve snaps completely, pupils dilating as a vein pops up on his temple. with no finesse at all, you’re turned around; a hand plants itself on your back, firmly pushing your torso down, you barely cushion your fall onto the car seat. 

he almost goes right in before the last fragment of sense left inside of him reminds him he’s forgotten something crucial. 

“shit, i don’t have a condom.” he slaps a hand over his face, vexed over the possibility of things ending here.

“i think i might,” you hurriedly reach into the glove compartment. not taking long to produce a foil packet and hand it to him; you turn to see he has an amused expression on his face.

“you remembered condoms but not money?” he snickers. “priorities.” 

you lower your head in embarrassment, begging him to get on with it. he obliges, quickly ripping open the packet and wrapping his cock up. with a deep hum, he slides his cock up between your ass cheeks. your back arches to push your backside further against him temptingly.

your mouths hang open in unison as he slides into you. he releases a long groan as he bottoms out, your tight unprepared hole swallowing him up deliciously. jeno’s body moves on its own, allowing neither of you time to adjust before reeling his hips back and slamming back in. his hands find purchase on your hips as he begins to pound you, digging into your curves for leverage; each thrust punching a choked moan out of you. 

“taking me so well,” he eyes the shameless mess beneath him, skin glistening with perspiration. he’s sure he’s equally as sweaty with the heat, probably more so with how much he is exerting himself; sweaty bangs stuck to his forehead, he can feel droplets racing down the sharp contours of his face to drip off his chin. yet he feels no fatigue, adrenaline keeps him going - keeps him fucking into you at a bestial pace. something about being surrounded by wilderness draws out a side of him so despicably feral, a side of him he had never been able to admit to having. 

when he said he would use you, he meant it well and truly. his cock bullied its way deeper into you.

“god! so fucking deep.” you manage to stutter out as he mercilessly crams every last inch of his cock inside. you’re sure he doesn’t mean or care to, but he hits all the spots that make your walls clench around him tighter, sucking him in deeper. 

“i can feel how close you are,” your legs shake, everything becoming more and more overwhelming by the second. his fingers dig into your flesh, holding your squirming body, “like being my fucktoy, yeah? gonna cream all over my cock?”

your legs shake and your nails scrape at the hard cushion beneath you as you bawl out incoherent words about how you’re cumming. your eyes roll into the back of you as the feeling seizes your body wholly. leaving your ears ringing and broken moans tumbling out of you as he drills you through your high.

once you fall, your legs give out and you fall limp on the seat. jeno doesn’t let up at all though. strong hands lay into your shoulders, your body is pressed further into the chair with his body weight. you barely have the space to breathe but he couldn’t care less, not when he was so close to the peak. 

he plants a foot on the car’s sill to anchor himself through a barrage of unrestrained, choppy thrusts. your poor car jolts and whines under their power.

between getting your throat fucked raw and brain-melting overstimulation, you could not form words; nothing that came out of jeno was coherent either, guttural noises of pleasure erupted from him. 

you only find out he’s cumming when you feel his cock twitch inside your sensitive walls. the fact he’s moaning your name between grunts is something you barely pick up; your body and mind have gone numb. motor function is off the table now, the only movement you can manage are involuntary muscle twitches.

jeno stills, basking in the fading pleasure, catching his breath. you’re too out of it to let out a small whine as he pulls out of you, leaving you devastatingly empty. 

“you good?” he pipes up, as you sluggishly pick yourself up. 

“fine, i think.” the heat and exhaustion have evidently defeated you; the look in your eyes is vacant as you wipe the sweat off of your forehead. you fix the straps of your soiled dress and plant your feet on the ground, your legs give out momentarily, but you catch yourself before you fall to the ground. he can't help but burst out laughing.

“look at you,” he takes your hand to steady you. the smirk on his face tells you he’s thoroughly enjoying the fact he’s fucked you to the point you can’t walk straight. “let’s get you cleaned up and home.” 

“thanks,” your cheeks grow hot as you limp toward his truck.

 “next time, bring money. not everyone’s as nice as me.” 

★ thank you for reading! my inbox is open for feedback and requests!

© glitchfiles

[karlachismylife]

A Spot of Lunch || The Queen of the Clan pt.4

CW: fem!chubby!reader, stalking, animal aggression (no violence)

Paranoia wasn't something you have ever associated with the vast grassy planes of sunlit savanna. An unsettling feeling of being constantly watched, followed, stalked seemed more suitable for the claustrophobic confines of a big city with its tall concrete walls and sleepless eyes of neon signs and late night windows peering blindly into the darkness - or maybe even a cold, isolated cabin among winter woods, with howling wind and creaking floorboards eerily masking the steps of whatever was looking through the frosty glass planes from the other side.

An open space full of busy with their own survival wildlife and sun burning every little patch of shadow anyone could hide in never crossed your mind as a place for a worry of unwanted following.

And yet you felt it.

You've learnt to distinguish this creepy sensation of being watched by something from the constant presense of your crew's cameras and curious looks of the animals. Even coming face to face (from afar, obviously) with the lion pride that was your main target for the documentary and attracting their attention left a different aftertaste - sure, you did feel like prey looking into the big eyes, adorned with a nature-given eyeliner, twinkling predatorily at you from the muzzle of a huge feline partially covered by the tall grass, but it still was just an animal watching you and gauging if you and your weird pack of two-legged companions were a better dinner option than an antilope.

What watched your back when you were sorting through your footage in camp or unloading the rover for another static filming, didn't feel like an animal.

"Well, we didn't even have that much visitors in camp for the last few days, so I'd say we're pretty safe," Kir, the shoulder you're used to rely on at this point, listens to your concerns carefully as he accepts heavy equipment from your arms - you reached a suitable place to have some food, so a temporary camp is being prepared. "Besides, we're always staying together out here, right? I'll look after you for now. Let's see if you still feel this shadow of yours when we get back to homebase, and then we'll look for a solution again. Maybe it's just the savanna getting to you, city cookie."

You scoff and roll your eyes at him, but his reassurance helps shake the unpleasant feeling from your scruff a bit - Kir has a point, the crew is being careful about animals and it's not like there are any other humans in these parts nearby, so you'll probably be alright. Definitely feels nice to have someone who doesn't simply dismiss your concerns and is ready to take more precautions if the initial ones fail to work.

"Maybe it's a heatstroke or something," you mutter awkwardly, now almost ashamed of how serious you make it all sound when no one else is having such problems. Kir immediately turns around, a big duffelbag on his shoulder, skin glistening with sweat, and gives you a disapproving look.

"I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that. This isn't a hike outside your hometown, every concern you have is worth looking into. Better be overcautious than become someone's dinner, especially when you're already a total snack," finally having gotten you to smile, he winks and hurries to the main camp. When you reach the others to set up your lunch break, a hat lands on your head - you lift your eyes, almost covered by it, and of course, it's still Kir, wiping his forehead with a smile. "No heatstroke for you, cookie. Go have some water."

The hat is a bit sweaty on the inside, but it keeps the sun away better than the scarf you couldn't tie properly this morning.

As you all sit around in the shadow created by a lone acacia and chew on your not so bad meals - apparently, veteran participants of these trips have experience not only in getting close to animals unnoticed or navigating vehicles through uneven sandy terrain, but also in making quite the unappealing looking canned food taste good - quiet human chatter mixes together with the birds calling each other out and little chirping mice sneaking around your camp in timid curiosity. A fit of laughter bursts here and there. Your worry melts into nothingness in the heat, you feel safe as you look at your crew.

These people are doing what they love, and you notice that the dull apathy that was eating at you to the point of taking a break in your studies slowly steps away. Surprisingly, your impulsive idea turned out to be not so bad - maybe you'll take additional courses when you return, to be able to move here, work at the sanctuary, watch-

"Psst, look," a gentle nudge makes you stop digging into the little bowl you have with your mighty fancy teal spork (your 100% recycled plastic pride and joy), and you look up to where Kir points with his chin and puckered lips. "Even I recognize that snout already."

So do you, of course.

A wide, happily grinning, sniffing vigorously at the direction of your temporary camp, round-eared snout with a thick mohawk of a lush mane.

"Finally brought a friend," chuckles Kir next to you - and he's right, shoulder to shoulder with your old pal Stinky stands another hyena, spotted so generously that its fur seems almost brown, as does its shorter, but even thicker than Stinky's mane. Pure elegance shines through the stance of its long legs and the whole form, especially compared to its bulky mate.

And there they are - the most enchanting, heart-stealing, soul-charming dark eyes you've ever seen an animal have.

"Shit," you nearly choke on the corn you forgot you had in your mouth before swallowing anxiously, and try to muffle your coughing, afraid it might scare the animals away; but instead they only tilt their heads in an adorable way and watch as you scramble to shove your food bowl into Kir's hands and grab your camera.

It takes you less than two minutes to sneak to your bag (not the one that was sprayed - that one is banished to lay alone next to a rover far, far away from where you eat, God) and grab the camera, but when you turn back, both hyenas seem to have lost all interest in you and your camp, rolling around together in the patchy grass and partaking in a ritualistic play.

Subtle breaths of warm wind bring over quiet growls and occasional sassy cackles from the scuffle, nips and paw slaps exchanged in equal amounts. The sight is nothing short of adorable: two members of one of the most dangerous species on Earth tossing each other around like playful cubs, almost as if they're fighting over-

"Hey, look, they've got something!" One of the other camera operators points out gleefully with her spoon and you close one eye, focusing your camera on the pair. They definitely are fighting over some scrap, and just as you zoom in on their scowling mouths, Stinky jumps to its feet, yanking something that looks like a piece of hide in attempt to wrestle their toy from the other one's maw. "Hey, can you see what it's about?"

You hum, squinting as you meddle with the settings - it's quite hard to make out what it is, some brown-ish rug, stretching between two pairs of powerful jaws, clenched and pulling in a simple game of tug-of-war. Just as you take a series of quick shots, that dark, lean hyena also gets up and twists its neck, trying to snatch that thing from his broader mate - and it rips.

In your lense you see loose strings hanging from the ripped edges of the torn toy.

"Huh, looks like a piece of cloth!" Curious, you zoom in some more, taking several fine portrait pictures of Stinky's big, displeased-looking snout. Its ears flatten a bit as it shakes its head, sand flying off the fluffy mane and landing on the dark hide of its buddy. The latter seems to be much more content with the end result of the playfight, already lying back on the warm ground comfortably, long frong legs crossed in an effortlessly graceful way and half of the desired prise being chewed enthusiastically before it's dropped with a yawn. "Maybe someone lost a scarf? No pattern though..."

You point your camera at the unbelievably stunning dark-furred hyena and take more photos, almost holding your breath at the beauty of the animal resting on the dusty ground. Its slightly lazy gaze slowly trails over the surroundings and then lands on you.

And then, you swear, it winks at you.

You press the button on your camera automatically, capturing this moment for you to stare at later, when you'll start doubting your own sanity. A lopsided smirk stays on the hyena's muzzle for a second longer - and then it's gone.

"What the hell..." you mutter under your nose, lowering your camera with a dumbfounded look and stare at the embodiment of innocence the cheeky fluffball is now. Almost as if they both heard you, Stinky perks up too, and you finally notice that whatever they were playing with is now hanging off its pleased snout shoved through a neat round opening in the material. So it's definitely something man-made. A shirt that's been shredded by predators' teeth until only the collar or a short sleeve remained?..

You shudder at the thought about how the hyenas got their sock-clad paws on the thing and what happened to the owner. Maybe it's just been discarded after researchers used it to wrap a hyena's head when they darted and collared one of them. Or it just fell out of someone's backpack on the bumpy road. Or...

A loud whoop interrupts your heavy thoughts and your eyes snap back to the furry menace, only to find it clearly posing for you, slumped over its pal's back and resting its chin between the other's fluttering ears. Surprisingly, the darker - maybe you'll call it Chocolate, it seems almost toothrottingly sweet from afar - hyena doesn't seem to mind much, waving its tail with a black brush on end languidly and laying still until you take a few pictures. Even though the rag Stinky can't seem to let go clearly gets in its eyes no matter how many times it tries to brush it away with an endearing ear movement.

Of course Stinky just drops its toy altogether on Chocolate's head the second something else attracts its attention - the way it perks up and loses that trickster grin, looking directly behind you, startles you, but almost twisting your neck to look over your shoulder proves futile. It's just Kir.

"Sorry to ruin your fun, cookie, but we'll have to get moving in a few, thought you'd want to finish your meal," he sighs with an apologetic smile, clearly not immune to the cuteness of the hyenas himself, and hands you your bowl, immedietely earning a growl.

A growl much closer than you'd expect from where your visitors stayed.

You jump, nearly dropping both your camera and food, and quickly turn back to see both hyenas, tails and manes belligerently fluffed up, just a few meters away. Kir steps in front of you immediately, shielding from the animals, but it seems only to aggravate them more.

Maybe it's not the brightest idea you get, but your adrenaline-high brain offers you a memory of Stinky obeying when you raised your voice at it.

"Stay down you two! Shoo! Get back!" Leaning around Kir's muscular shoulder, you wave with your spork at the unfriendly couple.

Somehow, it works.

They almost look upset, tails slowly hanging down and ears lowered - they even lean their whole bodies to the ground as they back away. Stinky is clearly more reluctant, and you would be melting at the sight if your heart wasn't still racing after the scare.

"You get back too, Stinky. Or I'll sign every picture of you with your nickname in all the wildlife magazines!" Perhaps it's your tone making the animals nervous, but Chocolate suddenly lets out a short giggle. Still feels nice to have someone appreciate your humor, especially when it earns him a nip at the scruff from Stinky, finally distracting him from you. "And you don't laugh at Stinky! What, you think there won't be enough of me for the both of you? I'll make fun of every fucking four-legged menace if you keep growling like that!"

An barely started new scuffle between the two stops abruptly, two pairs of huge wet eyes looking at you with almost human perspicacity. Remembering too late that a direct stare can provoke an animal, you avert your gaze, but it's unnecessary: even from the corner of your eye you see both hunched figures slowly gaining speed as they further away from the camp.

"What, you a hyena whisperer now?" Kir lets out a subtle relieved breath and you par his back gratefully, exhaling yourself. "Probably got scared of me because of my size... well, now that's you've proven your dominance, how about you finish your food? I'll pack everything for you, so don't rush."

Still glancing over your shoulder in case the predators come back, you mutter your thanks to Kir and nod at the other members of the crew who praise you for keeping your cool against the animals again.

"Didn't know they teach you that in school nowadays," jokes one of the older scientists with some canned food juice staining grey stubble around the corners of his mouth. "Good job, kid. Hyenas are all about hierarchy, if you show them you're more dominant, there's little they can do. Just maybe don't get into actual fights with them, you know?"

"Not planning to," you chuckle and finally get back to your food. While you chew absentmindedly, wandering around the camp being taken down, your legs bring you to where your slightly rough (and fluffy too, to be fair) around the edges neighbours left their tattered toy.

Just a weird shaped brown cloth, punctured in several places with the deadly weapon hyenas carry in their mouths and with clearly manufactured seams. That round hole Stinky utilized also has neatly finished edge, like clothing would have.

Huh. Weird. Somehow that chewed up and slobbered snippet looks familiar. Can't really quite put your finger on it though.

Part 3 | Part 3.5 | Part 5

Series masterlist | Main masterlist

A/N: Please, don't use any of this story as a guide to handling any animals, wild or not. Although I try to use real documentaries and stories of hyena whisperers as a reference to how hyena-human interactions can look like, it's still fiction. Use actual guidelines provided by authorities as to how to behave in contact with stranger animals.

Tagging:@elaineiswithyou-blog @creepingeva @my-halo-is-a-little-broken @sillymanjaro @ihatethinkingofnames10 @ravensfeatheruniverse @yaminax @ljh861 @darkangel4121 @ginger-n-coco @grey-shadow6475 @cryingpages @mothsdrabbles @mc-glare-is-king @vixxie22 @aldis-nuts

[coffeeghoulie]

broke the mold (change will come)

chapter 2: come together, come apart

Life outside of the City, with some new faces and some familiar ones. Cut to black. Contains unnamed character death, recreational drug use, dissociation and time loss. Thinking with portals. 9.7k.

Much thanks again to @mintea-in-space for giving this a look over <3

divider by @wrathofrats <3

Aurum runs until he's not sure what Circle he's in. He's never been this far from the City. The immense relief he feels from the distance is offset by the guilt and the panic.

The paved stones give way to basalt and brimstone. He leaves the Ninth. Keeps running.

When Aurum looks back on this, decades from now, when he’s no longer Aurum and his scruff is a little more salt than pepper, he knows, logically, he had to have had some help to survive. A kit from the City doesn’t make it out in the Wastes without a little help. But much to his combined horror and relief, he doesn’t remember any of the first couple decades on his own.

No memory of anyone taking pity on a dissociated fire kit. No memory of learning how to hunt, how to really fight. He doesn’t have to depend on his element out here if he knows how to throw his weight around.

When he does look back on this part of his life, all he really remembers is leaving the City, and then several decades just sort of passing. It’s disconcerting when he comes back to himself, staring at his reflection in an outcropping of black volcanic glass and not recognizing the man staring back. He doesn’t know when he changed how he wore his hair, wearing it in locs rather than braids, tied back practically.

He doesn’t remember. He doesn’t remember a lot of things. The last thing he knew in complete clarity was that he was just a kit leaving his home. Now, Aurum is a full grown ghoul.

He’s not even Aurum anymore. He doesn’t know who he is now, quite yet, but he clings to that name in a last ditch attempt to hang onto who he last remembered he was.

Part of him is surprised that no one came to find him. Another part is put at ease that he wasn’t dragged back. He tries not to dwell on any of it. Aurum keeps moving. He hunts. He hides from the roaming packs that dot these parts of the Wastes. He sleeps under outcroppings, fitfully but thankfully dreamlessly.

His body is used to being constantly on edge. He vaguely remembers, in the early days, when he was still just running, worrying about how he was going to survive, a kit from the City stumbling into the outer Circles.

He remembers hunger. Pain. Cold and heat and elements. But he also remembers finding clear water. Rock outcroppings and shelter. Food. He never lingered in one spot for long, turning tail at the first sign of other ghouls.

Aurum knows he could hold his own, but the energy expended isn’t worth it. So instead, he goes alone. Doesn’t claim any territory, keeps moving. Sees more of his world than he ever could in the City. Wanders through the salt marshes and spring rivers in the Fifth. Fights through the stormplains of the Second. Watches over the City and the sprawling towns and villages from the cliffs surrounding the outer edge of the Eighth. There’s a pang in his chest, so close to a place he never wants to step foot in again. He turns his back and treks back out into the Wastes. It’s easier the second time, making the choice to walk away.

He walks and wanders and takes in his world. There’s something missing, something deep and intrinsic that he can’t put his finger on, let alone name.

But he is happier out here than he ever was before. Undeniably so.

One of Aurum’s favorite places to move through are the forests of the Seventh, the trees gnarled and leafless, reaching up to the smoky sky like twisted fingers. It’s quieter here than most other places. Food a little more plentiful, ground a little softer underfoot.

Easier to hear where other ghouls are, even if it gives them a little more visual cover. The snap of a branch is loud and obvious, and out here, as long as he’s not actually intruding on another ghoul’s or pack’s territory, they will acknowledge his presence and they’ll all move along with their lives. No use expending energy on a brawl over a misunderstanding.

Aurum moves with purpose, looking for an outcropping or a fallen tree to use for shelter for the night. The smoke hanging ever present in the sky reflects orange and red, fires and magma from miles away casting the entire world in a bloody light.

He’s tired. Had been chased out of a hunt by a Roaming Pack that had claimed his quarry. His stomach growls and his muscles ache and as the sky gets darker, all Aurum can think about is finding somewhere enclosed and just passing out.

His single minded mission means he doesn’t hear the footsteps slowly getting closer.

Aurum keeps pushing. One foot after another. He hops down into a gully of a long dried streambed, starts walking in hopes of finding the old source. His throat hurts.

He’s lost in his mind when the world goes worryingly quiet. Aurum’s hackles raise, and he stops slowly. Holds still. He’s not alone. He can feel that much.

A rumbling. Sounds like a rockslide, or a far off earthquake. Aurum’s eyes dart around, does his best to steady his breathing, keep his scent calm. He can barely see anything in the darkness of the woods. He keeps looking.

Another rumbling. A little closer this time. His ears flick. His chest heaves. He can’t smell any other ghouls nearby. Only smoke and dirt and plant life.

A third. Even louder. Aurum’s heart falls through his stomach.

The rumblings freeze him in place, feet suddenly weighing a thousand pounds even though he knows he needs to run.

"Trespasser," a deep voice growls, and Aurum’s eyes go wide as his feet sink into solid rock. It closes around his ankles, and he panics, pulling hard even as the rock doesn’t relent.

Aurum knows he’s fucked. He’s stumbled into an earth ghoul’s territory. His breathing comes quick, chest heaving. He scrabbles at the rock he’s trapped in until his claws ache, but to no avail.

It’s dark, the grove towering around him feeling like it’s caving in. A cage for another ghoul to toy at their prey.

Aurum struggles to bring fire to his hands. He curses under his breath when it doesn’t work. “Shit, fucking- Lucifer damn-”

He panics, a trapped animal. He’s going to die here for the stupidest mistake he’s ever made. And there’s been no shortage of those in his life.

A pair of yellow-green eyes shine in the darkness. Aurum freezes.

They get closer. The growling gets louder.

Aurum swallows hard. He knows how to fight. But against a territorial earth ghoul while he’s trapped like this?

“Shitshitshitshit-” he panics, trying again to pull his feet free. Another pair of eyes blinks out of the darkness. Aurum’s stomach drops to his feet.

He stops struggling. Watches them stalk closer. His heart pounds, trying to break out of his chest. There’s no point. He’s so fucked.

“I’m sorry,” he calls out as the earth ghouls emerge from the shadows. One is tall, reedy and thin, dark hair hanging in moss-like strands, each horn curving back over their head in a spiral. The other is a little shorter, broader in the shoulders, horns broken where they jut back from the ghoul’s temples. Both snarl, tusks glinting wetly in the low light.

“Trespasser,” the taller ghoul snaps. Aurum throws his hands up, eyes wide and every muscle in his body locking up. They start to circle. “We should make you beg.”

“I didn’t mean to intrude, I was just moving through, I will turn tail and never come back,” he tries to plead. The other ghoul laughs. It sends a jolt of pure fear down his spine. He pulls at his feet again. They still don’t budge.

“That’s cute,” the second ghoul laughs. “Thinking we’ll just let you go.”

Aurum sighs shakily, shoulders dropping. “I know. Please.”

They don’t say anything, continuing to circle like vultures. Practically licking their lips as they close in. “You think that’s gonna save you?”

“It’s worth a shot,” Aurum shrugs. “I’d rather not die for having gone the wrong way.”

“Wouldn’t we all,” the first ghoul says snidely. They rake their dark hair out of their face with sharp claws, grinning almost manically. Aurum realizes, to his own horror, that his hands are shaking.

The other ghouls see it too.

“Please!” Aurum yells. He doesn’t know what else to do.

The first ghoul lunges. Aurum throws his hands up over his face, begging for his magic to fucking work for once.

All that comes is a spray of harmless sparks. Embers floating up into the dark sky in a shower of orange. And is that purple? The fear’s making him see things. He’s imagining it. The same way he imagines his feet shifting slightly in the rock.

“Esker! Moraine!” A third voice yells. Aurum tries to whip around to face where it’s coming from, but his feet are held fast in the ground once again. “I want to talk to him.”

The ghoul in front of him backs off, still grinning, but it’s softer. If Aurum knew any better, he’d say it looked kind. “Oh, of course, little bird,” they say. They gesture, looking over Aurum’s shoulder. Past him. “Why didn’t you say so before?”

Aurum’s chest heaves. He can feel his pulse racing in his throat. His temple. He still can’t see who spoke behind him. Feet still bound within the earth itself.

But then a third figure arcs around into his field of vision, jumping into the gully. It’s a ghoulette unlike any he’s ever remembered meeting. He realizes he can’t quite tell her element, and his head hurts as he stares.

She’s slighter than the earth ghouls she’s running with, footsteps completely silent like the ground doesn’t even recognize her presence. Dark violet hair floats behind her, carries on an imaginary breeze, and she cocks her head as she scrutinizes him with silver, iris and pupilless eyes.

“You’re a multi,” she breathes, gills fluttering along the sides of her throat. She’s a full head shorter than him, but Aurum still feels small under her gaze. She grins, seeming genuinely delighted as she bares sharp, serrated teeth. “Another multi, could you believe it?”

Aurum blinks, brows furrowing as he takes her in in turn. “I’m sorry, what?”

It’s the ghoulette’s turn to look confused. “Another multighoul?”

He smiles, tries to be placating. Hasn’t had to do a lot of that in a while, he’s not sure how effective it is anymore. “I don’t know what you mean, I’m just a fire ghoul.”

She just laughs. “Esk, let him go,” she calls. The taller earth ghoul nods, and then the earth under Aurum’s feet almost seems to melt. Aurum’s breath hitches, and he attempts to pull himself free. His toe catches on the rock, and he stumbles.

The ghoulette catches him by the arm, and he just tries to parse her expression. “Thank you,” he says, low and genuine. His pulse still races, and he fights to even out his breathing.

“Don’t mention it,” she says, hauling Aurum up until he’s steady on his feet, webbed fingers wrapped as far around his bicep as they can reach.

She glances to the other earth ghouls, eyes going wide as she realizes something, a bright peal of laughter escaping her lips. “We should probably introduce ourselves, huh? My name is Fog, and these are my packmates, Esker,” she gestures to the taller of the ghouls, “and Moraine,” she gestures to the other. Each of the ghouls nods at Aurum as Fog introduces them. "What's yours?"

Aurum takes a deep, shaky breath through his nose. “Don’t really have one,�� he says. Just the thought of a stranger calling him Aurum makes him feel nauseous. Or that may still be the close call making him sick. But he obliges his body anyways and doesn’t tell her.

Fog raises a dark eyebrow. Her smile doesn’t falter. “Would you like us to give you one?”

He flinches a little bit, pulling back. Fog’s hand is still on his arm. Her touch is cool, even through his shirt. “I- I dunno, I was going to head on my way, it doesn’t really matter.”

She just cocks her head. “And here I was going to offer that you stay with us.”

Esker and Moraine share a look. “Another mouth to feed, Foggy?” Esker asks, arms crossed over their chest.

“Sure, it’d be another mouth, but it would also be two more hands.” She shrugs, and Aurum whips his head back and forth between them as they talk. “Wouldn’t it be helpful to have another ghoul around? Especially another one with quintessence? Mine isn’t that strong, you know that.”

Quintessence? “I don’t-” Aurum tries to cut in, but no one seems to listen.

“He seems like he could pull his weight,” Moraine cuts in, voice low and harsh like a rockslide. His gaze is sharp, and Aurum feels like he’s pinned in place by it.

“Do I get a say in this?” Aurum asks. His tail lashes nervously behind him, eyes not staying on each ghoul too long before flicking to another.

The small pack shares a silent conversation, and Aurum feels all of his muscles tense, fingers twitching as he tries to decide if he should start to run. Fog turns back to him.

“I mean, you can turn tail and go, if you’d like,” she says. Her chest heaves with a sigh. “But I know being alone out here was awful. Being with a group is better. Don’t have to watch your back when you sleep. Up to you, of course.”

Aurum considers for a moment. His stomach lurches before it growls loudly. “I’ll stay. Do my best to pull my weight.”

Fog beams with bright teeth and eyes. She glances over to Esker and Moraine, each smiling in turn. “Welcome,” she chirps, resting her hand on his bicep again.

“Thank you,” he says, the adrenaline starting to come down hard. His body aches. He still wants to go find somewhere to lay down.

Fog turns him, nodding at the earth ghouls as she starts to lead him towards them. Despite the relief flooding him, there’s still the little voice in the back of his head screaming at him that he’s walking into his own downfall.

He decides to ignore it.

Esker and Moraine walk in near sync, leading the small group back into the forest, and Aurum follows. Fog walks next to him. She doesn’t take her eyes off of him. Aurum figures that she’s waiting for him to lunge at her packmates’ backs. Doesn’t blame her.

He just keeps walking.

Fog cocks her head, raising an eyebrow. “How’d you feel about a name, Multi?”

Aurum’s hackles raise. “I’m sorry, what’d you call me?”

“Multi,” she shrugs. “Multighoul. Multiple elements.”

He laughs under his breath, shaking his head. A few locs have fallen out of the ponytail he’d shoved them into that morning, and he pushes them out of his face. “I’m just fire, Fog. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Just fire, huh?” she says, like they’re sharing a joke. Aurum isn’t in on it. “Would you like us to call you Fire, then?”

He takes a deep breath. Keeps walking. “Sure. That sounds great.”

“Fire it is,” Fog says, beaming. She extends a hand to shake. Aurum accepts. Her grip is firm, and it feels a little strange with the webbing between her fingers, but he returns it.

“Thank you,” he says again. “For calling them off.”

She smiles. Her hair floats behind her despite the stillness of the air around them. “Things have been the same for a very long time. I like change. And besides, haven’t met anyone like me in a couple decades. That we didn’t chase off, that is.” Fog laughs.

Aurum doesn’t reply.

He looks to Esker and Moraine. They’re gesturing to each other, sign that Aurum can’t quite parse. Wonders what they’re saying that he can’t understand. He doesn’t press the issue.

He’s not quite sure how long has passed, the four of them moving in near silence, before Esker and Moraine stop. Aurum strains his eyes in the dark, realizing they’ve stopped at an impossibly hidden cave mouth. “We’re here,” Esker says. Their voice is harsh, whitewater through boulders.

Moraine grins, pulling back a curtain of ivy that Aurum’d be willing to bet that he grew himself. “Welcome to our humble abode,” he jokes. Esker gives him a little smile as they duck underneath, disappearing into the darkness.

Aurum takes a deep breath, and he follows after them.

Despite his hesitance, he falls in with their little pack. It’s a weight off of his shoulders, not having to constantly watch his back, even if it takes him a while to let his guard down around them. He still doesn’t let them know the details, why he left the City, the life he used to live.

None of that really matters out here. Not with the day to day survival. It’s a relief that Aurum basks in greedily.

Life out here is different, but it is simple. Days spent foraging and hunting, nights spent in the cave or taking turns keeping watch. There’s a rotation, but it seems like he’s being passed around the other ghouls.

He likes them all, truly. Fog is sweet, if a little pushy, stuck to his side. Sometimes, when the two of them are alone on patrol, or looking for edible plants, Aurum will sing under his breath. Something formless and quiet. But sometimes, Fog will join along with him and it feels right.

Aurum likes that a lot. The feeling right.

Moraine and Esker are both grounding presences, easy and confident with their movements. It’s been a while since Aurum’s been with ghouls bigger than him, and sometimes it’s unnerving to look up at where they tower over him.

But they know this part of the Seventh with their eyes closed, and Aurum feels, for the first time in a long while, truly safe.

A few years after falling in with their little pack, Moraine takes him out on patrol. There’s a bright light in the bright green of his eyes, and Aurum can’t help but be intrigued. He follows the earth ghoul a long ways into the forest, finding a rocky outcropping on the very edge of their territory.

He sits, patting the ground next to him. Aurum hesitates for a short moment before following.

Moraine reaches for a pouch on his belt, pulling out a handrolled joint. He turns to Aurum, something bright glinting in his eyes, his rectangular pupils wide. “You ever smoke miasma, Fire?”

Even from here, not lit yet, Aurum can smell it, herbal and strong. “Name rings a bell but I dunno if I have,” he says, leaning up against the rock they’re posted up on. “What’s it do?”

Moraine grins, raising an eyebrow. “You’d know if you had, it’s supposedly the best way to relax in the entire Seventh. One?”

He extends the cigarette to him, and Aurum shrugs and takes it. “I’ll get you a light?” he offers in return, taking the joint and setting it between his lips. Aurum focuses hard, calling a spark with a snap of his fingers. It takes a few tries to get enough magic to light the joint, but Moraine grins like it’s a miracle anyways, inhaling with a deep sigh.

“What a natural,” he teases as Aurum lights his own. Grey smoke streams from his lips as he speaks. “Sure you’ve never?”

Aurum inhales, coaxing the embers at the end to glow. He nearly doubles over with the force of the coughs that wrack him as the smoke hits his lungs. Moraine pats him square between his shoulderblades. His laughter rings out, a flock of birds scattering at the noise.

“Okay, maybe you’re right,” he teases once Aurum’s regained some composure.

“Oh, fuck off,” Aurum laughs, still coughing a little on the exhale. It takes a couple minutes, but his shoulders drop as the miasma works its way into his system. Moraine lets his eyes shut.

“That’s the good stuff,” he says, leaning back against the rock, his arms crossed over his chest. “Will Foggy have my head when we get back because we were fucking off instead of keeping watch? Maybe.”

“We can bring something back for dinner, that’ll lighten her mood,” Aurum supplies. His blood feels like it’s slowing down, almost thick and syrupy in his veins. It’s a struggle to keep his eyes open, but he hasn’t felt this calm in a long time. “Besides, you could offer her some of this.”

“She doesn’t like how it smells,” Moraine says, lowering his voice like someone will overhear this little secret.

Aurum’s nose crinkles. “She has a point, it doesn’t exactly smell good,” he says, taking another slow hit. His eyes track the smoke curling up into the branches. Lets himself sink into a frankly pleasant high.

He doesn’t know how long he sits with Moraine, listening to the wind rustle through the branches. The joints burn down, the embers stamped out on the rock. Aurum floats, mind empty but in a pleasant way, nothing like the way he’d leave his body before.

There’s a rush of a sound that Aurum’s never heard before, impossible to describe, that chills him to the bone. He startles, eyes flying open, and nearly falls off of the outcropping.

Moraine laughs, steadying him. “’S just the portal, Fire, we’re alright.” He gestures to the obsidian frame that towers over the forest. Aurum turns to look, brows furrowing as his brain tries to comprehend.

Instead of an empty frame, there’s a swirling white energy filling the portal. It reflects off of the smoke in the air, shining almost silver. Moraine sets a hand on his shoulder. “A human Up Top’s summoning ghouls.”

“How pissed would Esker and Fog be if we went through?” Aurum says. Moraine gives him a look, and Aurum throws his hands up. “Just asking, didn’t mean we should.”

“They’d be incredibly pissed. The color means the human’s looking for an air ghoul and-”

Moraine cuts himself off. “Oh shit, there’s a whole pack coming this way,” he whispers, ears pinned back. His eyes go cold, and he stands up on the outcropping. Aurum scrambles clumsily to his own.

He’s never actually encountered another pack trying to take territory. He’s seen Esker and Moraine both come back to the den with bruises and scrapes and giant, toothy grins on their faces. But he’s never had to deal with them himself. And now that he’s high? He’s fucked.

Aurum stands just to Moraine’s right, bracing himself for whatever’s coming this way. And after a moment, he too can hear it. Pounding footsteps, snarls, the yelps of someone being chased.

Moraine relaxes the slightest amount. “Pack after a lone ghoul, we probably don’t have to be worried yet.”

Even so, Moraine stands at attention, ready to leap into action the moment the action shifts. Aurum’s chest heaves, the pleasant high long gone. He watches through the trees as the ghouls come into view.

Just like Moraine said. One ghoul, water if he had to guess, making a dead sprint away from the close to ten other chasing them. Even from the distance, they look exhausted.

But stopping means they’ll be ripped to shreds. A whole pack only chases a singular ghoul for one reason, and it isn’t to stop and talk out any missteps.

Aurum realizes they’re running to the portal. He hopes they make it. That they’ll have a chance Up Top.

The ghoul sprints into the portal. Even from this distance, a blood-curdling scream echoes through the trees, a spray of ash pluming up from where the ghoul disappeared. The pack chasing them stops. Begins to turn around and disperse.

Moraine winces hard, hissing through his fangs. “Oh, poor thing,” he says, but there’s almost a bitterness to his tone. “It’s a shame.”

Aurum blinks. “What do you mean?” His head still feels a little stuffy, heart pounding at his sternum like it’s trying to break free.

Moraine looks back over his shoulder at him. “That was a portal meant for an air ghoul, Fire,” he says, shrugging a little. “Most humans who can filter portals don’t exactly care about what happens to any ghoul that tries to go through that isn’t the right element.”

“Oh,” Aurum says smartly. He feels his stomach start to drop as the pieces fall together.

“Easiest way for a summoner to make sure they get the right ghoul is to kill the wrong ones.”

They stand there in silence, Aurum’s head spinning violently. After a while, Moraine hops off of the outcropping, starts heading back towards the den.

Aurum stares at the portal, still swirling with magic, for a little while longer.

“You coming?” Moraine calls.

“Yeah, just a second!” Aurum calls back. He takes one more moment. Something familiar itches at the back of his tongue, but it’s been decades since anything close to a prayer fell from his lips. Aurum doesn’t say a word. He turns and follows Moraine back to the cave.

He doesn’t think about it, throwing a bright smile on his face when they return to Esker and Fog and the warmth of their den.

The time passes, as it does. The incident slips from his mind in favor of his friends, patrols and forage and hunting and sharing meals. The responsibilities are split between the four of them, and Aurum keeps finding himself grateful he’s no longer on his own. Even if he still feels a little uneasy after all this time.

He and Fog are left in the den, one late afternoon, Esker and Moraine out together. Fog likes to whisper to him about earth ghoul courting rituals, about, for as long as the two of them have taken her under their wing, Esker and Moraine have been circling each other, waiting for the other to make the first move.

Secretly, Aurum enjoys the lighthearted gossip, leaning down so Fog can whisper in his ear like they’re both kits. But she cuts herself off as footsteps grow louder and louder, and Aurum finds himself shifting in front of her on instinct.

Fog’s eyes dart to the mouth of the cave, ears pinning back for a moment before Esker ducks into the den. She relaxes and nudges her shoulder against Aurum as she stands to greet them. Esker presses their forehead to hers, and she shuts her eyes and inhales.

Esker smiles at her, tusks jutting out from their lower lip. They turn to Aurum, all of the warmth and smile fading as they look at him. “Peel these,” they say. “Dinner for later.”

Aurum nods, accepting the armful of foraged roots that the older ghoul puts in front of him. Feels the ping of jealousy as Fog gets their affection. But his stomach growls, and they’re still allowing him in their territory after all this time, so he pulls a black glass blade from his belt as Esker steps out of the cave to rejoin Moraine on patrols.

Maybe they’ll come back with something they’ve hunted. Aurum licks over his teeth at the thought. As uneasy as it makes him sometimes, he’s admittedly been eating much better now that he’s with a group.

Fog takes the large pot to the hot spring at the back of the cave, a burbling little thing, as she starts to focus. Slowly, she draws water from the humidity, a dripping bubble of pure, clean water, all of the minerals left behind. It hangs with ease in the air in front of her, not a drop spilled.

Aurum sighs, peeling each root with the sharp edge of the glass. His eyes keep going to Fog. The ease with which she uses her elements.

He’s too lost in his thoughts, his knife slipping and catching the side of his thumb. It blooms bright and painful, dark blood immediately welling up. “Fuck,” he hisses, dropping both the blade and the root he’d been paring at and pressing his thumb to his mouth. Iron coats his tongue.

Fog looks over at his outburst. Her eyes go wide, and she quickly guides the floating water into the pot, not spilling a drop. She scrambles over to his side. “You alright?” she asks, voice surprisingly soft.

“Think I’ll live,” he says around his thumb. “Stupid mistake.”

“One I’ve made more times than I’d care to admit,” Fog says lightly. Her hand touches his wrist, and Aurum glances up to her, gold to silver. “May I see?”

Aurum’s brow furrows the tiniest bit, and he can see her eyes lock onto the change in his expression. Regardless, he takes his hand from his mouth and offers it to her. It’s bleeding still, more sluggishly than it first was, but it hasn’t stopped yet.

Fog hisses in sympathy. She’s close enough that he can make out the detail of her eyelashes, the tiniest down feathers lining her eyes. “Ouch. You want some help?”

He nods, looks away from her. A strange swell of emotion bubbles up in his chest, but he’s quick to swallow it back down. Fog chirps, a soft trill trailing upwards in pitch, and her magic connects with him.

He’s no real stranger to Fog’s quintessence, something like grounding a circuit. It almost feels cold, electric. Aurum’s shoulders slump as it works its way through his nervous system, connecting to something at the very core of him that he doesn’t want to turn inward to examine.

It doesn’t take her long to close up the slice in his thumb. There isn’t even a blemish there when she’s done.

“Thank you,” he whispers, reaching for where he dropped his knife. “It’s- uh. Real appreciated.”

She smiles, all of her serrated teeth on full display. “Don’t mention it,” she says, scooping up the vegetables and roots he’d managed to peel before injuring himself to put in the pot. “Accidents happen.”

Aurum takes a deep breath, those weird emotions not going away. “Can I ask you something without you reading too into it?”

Fog looks over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow coyly. “You just did, Fire.”

He rolls his eyes, huffing a soft laugh. Despite himself, the corner of his lip curls up into a fond smile. “Not what I meant, and you know it.”

“Shoot,” Fog replies, wedging the pot between a few rocks in the hot spring. She pushes damp violet hair out of her face as she sits cross-legged at the edge of the water.

“How long have you known you weren’t just one element?” Aurum asks, not quite trusting his voice.

Fog hums. “Oh, that kinda question, I see.” There’s no malice in her voice, but Aurum still feels his face heat up. “I was still a fledgling when my water and quint came in. Early and loud enough that my pack knew before I did.”

Something in his chest twists. Aurum stares at his hands. “Oh, that must have been..” he trails off, glancing up to her.

Fog just cocks her head, giving him a little confused trill. She stands and steps towards him like he might startle. “That wasn’t a bad thing, Fire,” she says slowly, like she’s just stumbled across something big. Maybe she has. She sits back down at his side. “My parents knew early, and they were able to ask for help from the water ghouls who lived close to my aerie. There were no quint ghouls near us, but you get the principle?”

Something in his chest twists, hard and sharp and painful. He nods.

“Both of my parents are air ghouls,” she says. “I was the first multi in my flock in a generation. We’re not exactly common, but we do exist in greater numbers than a lot of folks think. There were, hmm, three more of us in my parents’ generation? It’s been a century and a half since I’ve seen them, give or take.”

Aurum sits quietly. He pulls at the skin surrounding the base of his claws. His tail flicks, and he wants nothing more than to take it between his sharp teeth and gnaw at it like a kit. “Did-” He starts, swallowing hard before turning and meeting her eye. “Fog, why did you leave? Was your air not… not good enough?”

“That wasn’t it,” she hums, not quite looking at him. “I’d lived in the same mountain range for two centuries,” she says. It’s nonchalant. It makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up and he doesn’t know why. “I wanted to see the world. Sure, my magic was nowhere as near as strong as my siblings’. But it was never ‘not good enough.’”

His brow furrows, knife pausing. “Oh.”

She chirps, glancing up at him. Aurum can feel her eyes on the side of his head. “Was that why you left? Because you couldn’t keep up with your peers?”

Aurum doesn’t respond. The silence is damning enough.

“That’s not fair,” She says. Fog sets her jaw, arms crossed. Aurum glances to her, sees how the flesh dimples where her talons push at the skin. “Fire, whoever told you that was wrong.”

He huffs a laugh, turning his attention back to the pile of roots. He tosses one into the heating pot with a splash. Does his best to shut his mind off, feels the memories pressing for attention. Avoids them all. “Alright,” he says, but he knows that she doesn’t believe him.

“Fire, listen to me,” she presses. Aurum feels himself disappearing inside of his body again. Tries his best to listen and to fight the haze he’s slipping into.

“Of course you couldn’t keep up with any of your fire ghoul peers,” she says like it’s the easiest thing in the world. He flinches hard. Her voice sounds like it’s coming through water. “You’re not a fire ghoul.”

It still doesn’t make sense, so he actively chooses not to try and parse it. Easier to live with what he knows.

The tiniest voice in the back of his mind tells him to listen to Fog. That she knows what she’s talking about. He squashes it.

“Okay,” he says. Fog huffs loudly, and Aurum shudders hard away from her.

“Fire, you’ve gotta listen to me,” she says, in a tone that suggests she’s trying her hardest not to just scream at him out of frustration. “I’ve been telling you, since we met, that you’ve got more than one element in there.” She pushes a talon at his chest. “Please, I know what I’m talking about.”

Aurum looks up at her. “It would have shown itself when I was a kit, like you. Maybe, really, I’m just a bad fire ghoul.”

Fog sighs. She crosses her arms. “Please just think about it, Fire?”

“Sure,” he says. They both know the truth.

With a soft groan, Fog pushes herself to her feet. “I- Fire. I’m going to go see if Esk and Moraine need some help. Stir the pot once it gets to a boil for me?”

She doesn’t look back to see if he answers; she’s already on her way out of the mouth of their cave.

Aurum sighs. Runs a hand through his locs. He doesn’t watch her leave, already turning back to the pack’s dinner.

He glances to the mouth of the cave for a split moment before bringing the spade of his tail to his lips like a kit, chewing it in sharp fangs. Once again, he tastes blood.

Only this time, there’ll be no quintessence for it.

The years pass, turning to decades. Aurum feels content like this in a way he never has before, slotting into place as he walks alongside this pack. A little more muscle, the last of the five elements in their ranks. A piece made to fit in a puzzle.

Esker pulls him aside more than once, an easy smile on their lips as the two of them take their turn to keep watch. The forest is dark and quiet, nothing but footsteps on earth and wind rustling barren branches, their eyes shining in the dark.

“I’m glad we got you,” Esker signs one night, nudging Aurum’s side with a particularly bony elbow. When he turns to look them in the eye, there’s a fox-like grin on their face. Aurum can’t help himself but return it, nudges them back as they walk. It’s about time to change shifts, heading back to the den in near lockstep.

“Thanks,” he signs back a little too stiffly. He’s still a little clumsy signing, but Esker corrects him with gentle hands, moving his own to the correct position. It’s strange, the gentle correction. Aurum doesn’t dwell on it. Something in his chest hurts if he does.

The earth ghoul pulls their long hair back in a quick, meticulously neat braid, deep forest green falling over their shoulder. Aurum watches, a little entranced. “You’re a good kid,” they sign once their hands are free again. “Even for a City ghoul.”

Aurum hides the way something twists in his chest by making a face of mock disgust. “Spent more time in the Outer Circles than in the City, at this point.”

“Suppose you can’t help it,” Esker signs. Aurum rolls his eyes playfully to mask the sting.

“Come on, Esk,” Aurum says, running a hand over his locs to push them out of his face. The cave comes into view, and Aurum doesn’t think he’s ever been more relieved in his life.

He has trouble sleeping most nights, even as he finally becomes accustomed to living with a group once again. The fire’s long gone out, the only sound the bubbling of the spring and the quiet breathing next to him, Fog’s weight pressed against him as she lays against him.

Aurum lays on his side, head propped up in his hand as he stares at her. He's entranced by the movement of her hair, shifting ethereal in a breeze that doesn't exist, curling like wisps of smoke, the flicker of flame.

Fog's eyes track lazily over to him, shifting on her back in the lichen. They glow silver in the low light, pupilless. All they can hear is each other's breathing, Esker and Moraine's footsteps as they prowl outside of the den. "What'chu lookin' at?" she says, slow and quiet.

He rolls his eyes, plops back onto his back as she rolls onto her side, mimicking the position he was just in. She holds her cheek with the heel of her hand. "What do you think I'm looking at?" he says, matching her tone. He lets his eyes shut. Fog's gaze is piercing nonetheless.

"Oh, come on, Fire," she croons, and he shudders at the name she's given him. It feels like rubbing velvet the wrong way. It's too late to tell her to stop, so he bears it. She traces a fingertip up the bridge of his nose. "Tell me what's goin' on in that head of yours."

He sighs, cracking one eye open to meet Fog's smile, something sharp glinting in her eye. "What do you think comes after this?"

"Ooh, deeply philosophical time, is it?" She lays back on her side, resting her head on his collarbone. "Talking about what comes after we die."

He shakes his head. His nose scrunches as her hair wisps over his cheek. Featherlight facsimile of a caress. "No, not that. I mean. We have our life, out here. Hunting and defending and taking shifts to sleep. What comes after this? What do we do next?"

Fog laughs, serrated fangs bared all too close to his throat. It almost sounds like chapel bells. Almost. "What do we do next?" she parrots, staring up at him curiously. "Fire, this is all there is out here in a pack like this. This is the life I've lived since I left my aerie. And it will be the life I live until some larger pack chases us out of this part of the Seventh. And then, we will find somewhere new and safer, and we will do it again. We keep living. That's what comes next for ghouls like us."

Aurum's brow furrows and he stares up at the roof of the cave. The fire's nearly died out, the barest of flickers of shadow moving against the rock. "There has to be more than that."

"Sure, there could be," she says, humming low in her throat. "We could always stumble upon another stray to take in." Fog nudges him, teasing.

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

"That’s the last new thing that’s happened to us, you know it’s true,” she says, nudging his shoulder with hers again. "Or Esker and Moraine could finally admit they've been circling each other for decades and finally start courting properly."

Aurum looks at her. "Fog."

She barely acknowledges him. Fog shrugs. "If you want more than this, Fire, the City is where there's more."

He rolls his eyes, a little annoyance seeping into his scent. "I'm not going back to the City. I can’t. You know this."

“But you never tell me why,” she sighs, resting her cheek against his shoulder. Her hand, small and taloned, sits just above his heart. It beats against her palm, and even through his shirt, Aurum can feel the points of her talons.

Not a threat. Never a threat. But he knows they’re there. “Hurts too much,” he admits, voice smaller than he thinks she’s ever heard it. “Can’t.”

Fog sighs again. Doesn’t push the issue. Just pushes another one instead. "I could always teach you how to use your quintessence, and Esker and Moraine your earth. That’s more, isn’t it?"

"How many times do I have to tell you I'm just fire, Fog?" Aurum doesn't realize he's growling until Fog laughs again, shoving his shoulder playfully.

"You keep telling yourself that," she laughs. There's a flicker of violet dancing between her claws, and she raises her hand to admire the magic that comes effortlessly to her. It reflects in the silver of her eyes. "Quintessence is magnetic. You know, when we met, I wasn't going to stop Esker and Moraine?"

"I know," he sighs. “You’ve told me.”

"You were a threat to us. You know a full grown ghoul your size is dangerous, even with our numbers. But I was drawn to you, and I saw quintessence on your fingers when you begged them to stop."

"It has been decades since I met you," Aurum says, wondering if Moraine will let him dip into his miasma stash when he comes back from watch. His head's starting to hurt, fingers and the spade of his tail twitching uneasily. He fights the urge to stuff it between his teeth and chew until his skin’s raw. "And I still believe you're making shit up."

Fog sits up, brushing her hair out of her face so it floats back from her shoulders, rippling slowly on an imaginary breeze. She looks down at him, eyes cloud grey and burning. "Fire, you are as stubborn as they come. One day, you'll see I'm right."

“Sure,” he says. She smiles, and Aurum can’t help himself but return it as she smooths a loc out of his face. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He doesn’t know if she notices.

Regardless, Fog lays back down, curls back into his side. Aurum holds her wrist, fingers wrapped all the way around. Feels her pulse. Lets the steady rhythm lull him to sleep.

He doesn’t dream so much out here. But tonight, he finds himself in all too familiar a dream, even if it’s only the second time he’s ever had it. There’s no forgetting this.

That strange man towers in front of him again. Cast in relief by the flickering fires behind him. The light glints off of metal in his hair, wrapped around his horns.

Aurum looks up at him. Something twists hard in his stomach. “Why are you back,” he says. Even in sleep, he feels exhausted, sluggish. He stumbles towards him. His feet catch in the ground like he’s walking through mud.

The man doesn’t answer. Aurum can feel his eyes pinning him in place.

“Leave me alone,” he says, growling, hackles raised. “I want no part of you.”

The man still doesn’t answer. Aurum isn’t surprised at all. He takes a step forward. The man takes a step back.

“What the fuck do you want,” Aurum presses. He keeps walking. The man gets no closer. Just watches.

“Answer me!” Aurum growls, trying to lunge. His feet sink into the ground, rock closing around his ankles.

He wakes with a gasp, jolting upright. Fog grumbles, curling in on herself as his sudden movement disturbs her from where she was laying on his chest. “You alright, Fire?” she mumbles, blinking slowly awake.

The name stings but there’s no better alternative. “’m fine, Foggy. Go back to sleep, we’ve got patrol tonight.”

She hums, a soft little thing, as he lays back down, pulling her into his arms. He doesn’t fall back asleep. He stares at the cave ceiling overhead, feeling the stone close around his ankles.

He doesn’t question it.

Time passes in a haze, as it always seems to do. It’s much of the same, nothing of note other than chasing off a few lone ghouls eager to stake their claim on Esker and Moraine’s territory.

Aurum walks alongside Fog, keeping his footsteps a little slower so she can make pace on shorter legs. He’s supposed to keep his head on a swivel as they patrol the edges of their pack’s territory, but his mind is elsewhere.

There’s a portal on the very edge of no man’s land, the edge of the obsidian frame jutting up against where Esker and Moraine claimed a few decades before Aurum joined them. It looms over the treeline, visible through the scraggly, bare branches.

He can feel her eyes on him. Normally, it’s a comfort to know he’s being seen, but sometimes it feels like ice shot into his veins. Aurum can’t quite tell what she’s trying to find. She’s always been near impossible to read.

“What’s up, Foggy?” he says quietly, trying to broach carefully.

“Nothing,” she hums, glancing ahead of them to where they walk. The portal frame grows ever closer.

Aurum’s shoulders almost curl in on themselves, but he forces himself to stay alert and present. He glances behind them, making sure they’re not being followed.

Fog whistles, high and shrill, like a facsimile of birdcall. Aurum’s ears pin back as he tries to tune her out, the sound scraping at his brain. Not to mention, it carries, and she’s broadcasting exactly where they are to any ghouls that could hear.

Either Fog doesn’t realize this, or she doesn’t care. Aurum watches Fog’s dark hair float on the air behind her, in constant, gentle motion. The portal looms ever closer.

There’s something building in Aurum’s chest as they walk, and it takes him a while to realize that it’s dread. He remembers the man in his dream, his silhouette burnt into the backs of his eyelids, and pauses in his tracks. He blinks the image away before Fog can notice he's stopped.

They keep walking until they’re just in front of the portal. It’s up on a cliff, past the tree line. Aurum can see over the forests of the Seventh, stretching almost to the edge of the Sixth. Fog leans up against the frame of the portal, her eyes closed and arms crossed over her narrow chest.

Aurum sighs, stretching until something in his back pops, and he groans in relief. Fog’s been quiet, and it’s making him uneasy. But he will wait for her to keep moving, not wanting to leave her on her own even in the safety of Esker and Moraine’s territory.

Fog stops whistling. All Aurum can hear is the wind rustling through the branches, carrying sulfur and smoke. He stands there and stares through the empty portal.

He doesn’t know how long they’ve stopped when Fog’s eyes shoot open, bright silver, as the ground tremors almost imperceptibly. She lunges off of the portal frame, scrambling back towards the treeline. Aurum’s feet feel frozen to the rock underneath them, every hair on the back of his neck standing straight up.

A sound Aurum’s only ever heard once before in his life rumbles through the air, infinitely louder than the last time.

The portal.

A rush of magic hits him as the portal ignites. He’s pushed onto his back foot by the overwhelming familiarity of it, bright red and orange and yellow even through his eyelids. Burning bright and warm. Aurum realizes, with a rush of almost giddy surprise, that it’s a fire portal. It’s been so long since he’s felt fire magic like this outside of himself.

Behind him, ducked behind the trunk of a long dead tree, Fog laughs. “What do you know?” Aurum can hear the grin on her face. “Someone up there needs a fire ghoul.”

Aurum rolls his neck. Something pops just on the right side of unpleasant. He looks back at her. “You three still need me?”

Fog furrows her brow, and if Aurum knew any better, he’d call the look she gets in her eye something like panic. “Fire, you’re not- it’ll-” she stammers, voice barely able to be heard over the humming of magic.

He just rolls his eyes. “Decades, I’ve known you, Fog, and you keep trying to make me believe something that isn’t true.”

“Fire,” she says, a little louder this time. “Do not go through that fucking portal.”

He turns around now, a little dumbfounded by the genuine fear he sees on her face. “Why not? I’ll be fine. I’m just Fire, right?”

She snarls. “Lucifer, Fire, sure. If you really, truly think you’re a fire ghoul, go through the portal. But I’m not watching you go up in ash.”

He shakes his head, lip curling up in a sneer. “Fog. I won’t. I’m tired of insisting that I’m something I’m not. You don’t know me.”

Fog just laughs, blinking rapidly in disbelief. “I don’t know you?” She scoffs. “And whose fault is that? I’ve been trying to know you the entire time you've been with us!”

“And yet, you keep pushing.” Aurum knows he’s toeing a line, has seen the skill with which Fog hunts and fights, but he can’t bring himself to care. “Cant take no for an answer, can we, Foggy?”

Fog’s eyes burn at that, a low, uncharacteristic growl bubbling in her chest as she stalks out of the trees towards him.

“If you want to keep calling yourself a fire ghoul, then be my fucking guest,” Fog snarls, gesturing to where the portal swirls, orange and yellow and red, flickering with magic like pure flame. “Go through.”

“It’s not gonna do shit, Fog, I am a fire ghoul!” he snaps back, a growl building low in his chest. She doesn’t shy back, stands her ground. Fog isn’t afraid of him flashing a few teeth.

She lunges, and Aurum just barely manages to catch her wrist before she claws his face with her talons. He doesn’t use his full strength, and she’s able to rip herself free with barely any effort.

Fog pants, her gills flaring, something glinting bright in her eyes that isn’t the reflection of the portal behind him. Her upper lip curls into a snarl. “How fucking long have I put up with you and your denial,” she growls, starting to circle him.

Aurum moves with her, eyes not leaving her. Waiting for any sudden movement like it’s going to do him any good. He knows how fast she is. He rolls his wrists, claws out. “Not denying anything, Fog. You know how long I’ve been saying it.”

She laughs, sharp and piercing. “Denial,” she crows. “I know you have quintessence. Esker and Moraine know you have earth. I’m fucking exhausted of you being the only one who refuses to accept that. I want you to split the work, pull your share. When Esker and Moraine come back from patrol hurt. When they chase off threats and the threats fight back. I refuse to be the only one who can heal them. I know you can, Fire. I can help you. Please let me help you,” she urges. For a moment there’s something genuine in her eyes, but it’s quickly covered back up with rage. “You just have to fucking listen to me for once.”

“Fuck you,” Aurum snarls. Fog lunges, and he just manages to duck out of the way of her wrath. Despite his blood simmering in his veins, there’s a sour taste in his mouth at just the thought of actually hurting her.

“No, fuck you,” she snaps back. “Inconsiderate son of a bitch.”

The simmering erupts into a full boil. Aurum’s eyes glaze over.

Fog grins as he lashes out. His jaws crack together like an alligator’s, eyes burning and molten. He grabs her outstretched wrist as she tries to strike him, throwing her to the rocky ground instead.

She rolls when she makes impact. Graceful in the way only an air ghoul could be, fluid like water. “Oh, there he is,” she taunts, eyes flashing like quicksilver. “There’s the threat.”

“Fuck off, Fog,” Aurum growls, lunging again. She hisses when one of his claws makes purchase and rips. The scent of iron nearly drowns out the sulfur and smoke.

She growls, a cornered animal, and shrieks. Aurum pins his ears back to his head. It’s too shrill, a banshee like warcry. His heart drops through his stomach, even as he tries to shove her back.

Fog is smaller than him by a long shot. But that just makes her fast. Her talons catch his shoulder, tearing down his arm. Black blood burns as it drenches him. The pain makes his knees buckle and his head spin.

But he’s survived this long. He stands there and takes it. Snarls like something feral and throws her to the ground with a thud.

Fog’s back on her feet in an instant, scraped up by the broken basalt. But she’s just as hardy as him. “Go through the fire portal, Fire,” she snaps, something bright and manic in her eyes. “Because Esk and Moraine are on their way. They heard you hurt me, Fire. They’re going to tear you apart.”

“I’ll take my fucking chances,” he says, bracing himself for her next lunge just in time. They snarl as they crash together, teeth snapping and claws seeking purchase. “I survived long enough on my own without you, I’m sure I can fend off all three of you.”

Fog just laughs, high and clear. Aurum’s suddenly reminded of chapel bells. “No, you can’t,” she says, doubled over laughing like he’s told her the funniest joke she’s ever heard. “Fire, Fire, sure, you’ve been running with us for decades now. But you’ve said it yourself. You’re a City ghoul. You couldn’t.”

He snarls, lunging at her. She just sidesteps, light on her feet and calling on her air. Fog’s eyes are bright and manic, serrated teeth glinting red from the light of the portal. Aurum tries to call on his fire, but as per fucking usual, it doesn’t answer.

Fog braces herself to pounce again, talons and fangs extended, and Aurum knows there’s really only one way out of this.

He takes a deep breath and steps into the fire portal.

Aurum’s always been able to handle fire once it’s been lit. Has felt the warmth, but never any pain when it touches his skin. This is something else.

Aurum screams, because it is the only thing he can do. He has never known pain like this. He squeezes his eyes shut as the magic rushes and roils around him, burning away at him.

He could step back. Face Fog and Esker and Moraine. Stop all of this and never feel like this again.

Aurum keeps going.

He crawls from the Pit snarling, eyes wild and blood under his claws. The air is cold, too crisp in his lungs, burning cold. Everything fucking hurts. Aurum's eyes try to focus through the pain. He wobbles on his feet, the stone underneath them so cold it burns.

He's not alone. He can sense presences behind him, strange and foreign. But that's not nearly as important as what's in front of him.

The three ghouls standing in front of him are what's important. A truly massive quintessence ghoul. A towering, lanky earth ghoul. And between them, a fire-eyed water ghoul, silver hair falling down their back in curtains. A pack. All three of them glance to each other, before turning their eyes back to him, before looking behind him. The big quintessence ghoul takes a step forward.

Aurum snarls, head spinning. He gets a look at his own arms as he holds them up defensively, claws out. They're covered in bruises and burns and claw marks, and he barely manages to keep the horror from his expression. Black blood splatters against the sigils carved into the stone under his feet in a steady drip. Drip. Drip.

"How did- Cardinal, how did you manage to get a multighoul through the portal alive?" A woman's voice echoes through the tall ceilinged room. Her voice is severe, sending a shudder down his spine. The three other ghouls all flinch. He hasn't even seen this woman, but he knows she's dangerous.

"The filter was set correctly, Sister," a man promises, voice reedy and almost panicked. "Only a fire ghoul should have been able to make it through witho-"

The quintessence ghoul reaches an arm out, his eyes wide, mouth moving like he’s saying something, but Aurum can’t make his eyes focus, vision darkening around the edges. His head spins. Or is it the room that’s spinning? He can't tell.

The ground rushes up to meet him.

There’s a thud, and the world goes black.

[valkyyriia]

Try This On For Size

Words: 2729 CW: Semi-Public Sex, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism?, Mirror Sex, Creampie, Vaginal Fingering Pairing: Comte de Saint-Germain / Female-Bodied Reader Prompt(s): Fitting Room, Let Them Play Dress-Up With You

Notes: I cranked out another one at work tonight. I'm feeling even less confident with this one than I was with the other, but.. I hope it still makes sense.

Crossposted on AO3 here.

For @xxsycamore's event, Sexy Ikemen Summer!

The sticky summer heat of the French countryside was beginning to get to you. No amount of fanning yourself or loosening your collar was cutting it. 

Of all the things you could be missing from the modern era, air conditioning was not expected to be the crux of all of your issues. 

Just as you feared you would begin to melt into the parquet flooring, a cool hand brushed against the back of your neck. “Are you okay, ma chérie? You seem a little warm.” His voice was soothing, but tinged with concern.

“I’m alright,” you assured him with a content sigh, leaning back into his touch. “It’s just hotter than I’m used to.” 

Comte’s hands dropped to your shoulders and he began to massage them. He pressed a kiss to the crown of your head as the tension left your body. “You’ve been working hard lately. I think it’s time you take a break.”

“There’s too much to do for that,” You protested. “Sebas needs help with dinner, and we haven’t even begun cleaning up the book fort Leonardo created in the library.” 

Comte hummed, one of his hands gently caressing the side of your neck. “Should I give it as an order from your employer, then? If a heartfelt plea from your partner isn’t enough.” He moved to kiss your neck under your ear. “Please, mon amour. It wouldn’t do to have you suffer a heatstroke simply because you’re too stubborn to know when to take a break.” His lips moved towards your shoulder, teasing but affectionate. His arms moved to your waist, pulling you back into his embrace. He rested his head on your shoulder and held you close.

You leaned into him, your head draped over his other shoulder. Unlike the stifling heat of the outdoors, Comte’s warmth was comforting and welcome. He nuzzled into the joint between your neck and shoulder. “Let me spoil you today,” he said, kissing your neck again. 

“You spoil me every day, Abel,” you sighed, relaxing further into your partner. He was going to win this and you both knew it; it was just a matter of how long it took you to give in.

“And yet, somehow, I’m still not satisfied that it’s enough. You deserve more, chérie. You deserve the world, and you will get it if I have anything to say about it.” His arms tightened around your midsection, pulling you even closer. 

A cool, inviting breeze suddenly blew through the open window. The air rushed along your face and tousled your bangs. Even nature herself was trying to tempt you. With another sigh, you gave in. “Fine. But you have to let me get up on time tomorrow, okay? I don’t want to leave Sebas waiting again like the last time you took me out for the day.” 

The vampire chuckled into your neck, the reverberations rumbling through your own body due to the proximity. “I seem to recall you left my bed quite satisfied that morning.” 

You flushed at the memory. “I certainly was,” you agreed. “Until Sebas abused my forehead after breakfast. I had a bruise for a week.” 

“But it was worth it, non?” He looked up at you from his position on your shoulder. Comte’s golden eyes twinkled with amusement, but they were tinged with a subtle heat. His hands drifted slowly down your abdomen, his gaze never leaving yours. He offered you a coy smile.

You groaned. “It’s too hot, Abel,” you protested. “I will genuinely either melt into a puddle or catch on fire if you continue that line of thought right now.” 

“Alright, alright,” he relented, stepping back from you with a light chuckle and holding up his hands in defeat. “Let’s get you cooled off.” 

As it turns out, Comte’s idea of “cooling off” was taking a carriage into town and going clothes shopping. For you, of course. His reasoning was that your clothes were heavier than you were accustomed to in your time, so lighter fabric would help fend off the oppressive French sun. Comte’s logic was sound, but you were quite sure he was just fishing for an excuse to buy you even more dresses that you would only wear once. 

As the carriage stopped, he stepped out first, offering you his hand. Taking it, he kissed the back of it before tucking your arm into his. The two of you walked leisurely in the direction of his favorite boutique, the one the both of you frequented. The staff immediately recognized the both of you (you were pretty certain that Comte’s patronage alone could keep this store in business for centuries to come, and potentially push France into the forefront of the modern economy) and ushered you into a large fitting room in the back of the building. 

“How can we be of service on this day, Monsieur le Comte?” 

He looked around the room briefly. “My partner is in need of some lighter summer clothes. The heat is getting to her,” he said, brushing his knuckles against your cheek with affection. You hadn’t really considered it before today, but the dress you were wearing was made of a heavier material that was more suited for the later part of the year. Maybe a couple of thinner summer dresses would be a good idea - you just hoped you could keep your darling Comte from purchasing the entire store this time.

The shop worker nodded in agreement. “The Madame’s dress is much better for the cooler months. Yes, I will bring you some of our best. Un moment, s'il vous plaît,” they said, stepping out to rifle through a few clothing racks.

You looked around the room. Not much had changed from the last time you were here, except now they had frilly sun hats and sunglasses on display alongside the jewelry and shoes. 

“Has anything caught your eye, ma chérie?” Comte asked, tilting your chin up to look at him. 

“Aside from you, you mean?” You ask with a smile. He responds with a chuckle and a kiss to the forehead. 

“You are so.. Séduisant, mon amour,” Comte murmured, amused. “What am I going to do with you?” 

“Many things, I’d imagine,” you said sweetly. “After all, eternity is a long time.”

Before Comte could reply, the shop attendant returned with a large bundle of fabric bunched in her arms. “I selected a few similar to what you’ve purchased for le Comtesse before, along with a couple of other styles I’m sure would look lovely on her.” She smiled at you. 

“I truly think she could make anything look amazing. Merci beaucoup, mademoiselle,” Comte replied with a cordial smile. “We will take it from here.” 

The attendant curtsied on her way out of the fitting room. “If you have need of anything else, please just let us know.” 

Once you were alone, Comte sat on the ottoman in the room and grinned cheekily. “Strip.” 

Your cheeks bloomed a dark pink. “Don’t say it like that!” You hissed, untying the ribbon at your neck at his request anyway. His laughter filled the room. 

You tried on several outfits that day; all of which were far lighter material than what you had on. They were high-quality, lightweight cotton - and definitely outside of your normal budget. Not that Comte cared about price. If you expressed even the slightest desire for something, the vampire would have dozens of the item in question waiting for you within a day, regardless of practicality or expense. One time, you had been playing with Lumière and commented on how cute he was, and the next day you woke up to an entire litter of kittens in your room, courtesy of Comte. You ended up rehoming all but one of them - a little black thing you had named Minerva. She was probably sunning herself in the window right about now, absorbing all the sun she could. Disgusting.

Comte gave feedback on all of them, but he seemed pleased with every dress you tried on. He chose accessories and shoes for everything you tried on. While le Comte de Saint-Germain may not be the most fashionable of individuals, he could at least pick out matching shoes and jewelry. 

Throughout the fittings, Comte’s eyes only left your figure a handful of times, just long enough to grab a pair of shoes or another accessory. The rapt attention from your lover would have made you feel self-conscious if it weren’t so endearing. Your trained eye could tell that Comte grew somewhat more impatient with every article you tried on, but he never once rushed you. You wondered what had him so antsy, but you decided not to ask. After all, you would be done soon enough.

The last dress in the pile was a beautiful, floral-print cotton gown. The base fabric was white, but it was dyed with small daisies all over. You looked at yourself in the mirror and twisted to get a better look. You tried to reach behind you to lace up the back, but you stopped when you saw him come up behind you. Comte’s fingers gently batted yours aside and he began to lace the dress, looking at you in the mirror as he did so. Your breath caught in your throat as you saw the look he gave you - adoration, desire, and hunger. “It looks beautiful on you,” Comte said honestly as he secured the fastenings. He tightened the laces just enough so it would stay on, but not so much your movement would be inhibited. 

“Everything today has looked good on you, chérie,” he added, his now free hands settling on your hips and pulling you flush to him. You could feel his hardness straining against the smooth material of his trousers. He lightly rubbed his hips against yours.

The feeling of his arousal against your backside caused you to bite your lip and make eye contact with his reflection. His gaze had darkened further and you were suddenly reminded that he was a vampire - a predator - and you were his prey. Rather than fear, however, the sight was more arousing than anything. You almost felt empowered, knowing this man craved you so strongly that his control was only hanging on by a thread. 

Comte began to tug on the lace he had just tied up, loosening the bodice of the dress. You looked up at him in surprise. “I thought you liked the dress?”

“I do,” he said, pushing the sleeves down your shoulders and leaving hot kisses on the now bare skin. “I’ve rather enjoyed getting to play dress up with you today, but I have been looking forward to the moment I got to take them off of you. I can’t keep pretending to be a gentleman right now.” He pushed the dress down your hips, the decorated cotton pooling on the floor, leaving you in your chemise. Comte pulled you backwards, still keeping his eyes on you in the mirror, and bent you over the other side of the ottoman. You complied with his direction, your breath hitching when you felt him run his fingers through your already damp slit. You hung your head and inhaled sharply as he slid in one finger, then two, stretching you slightly.

“You’re already so wet,” he teased. “Such a naughty girl, getting worked up like this in public.” You pushed your hips back against his fingers, but he pulled them out and held you still instead. 

When you heard the sound of fabric rustling, your gaze shot up at the exact time Comte began to press the tip of his cock to your entrance. You looked back at him in surprise, but he turned your face towards the mirror once more. 

“I want you to see how pretty you look while I’m inside you,” Comte said, his voice deep with desire.

“What if someone walks back here?” You asked breathily, biting back a moan as Comte pushed in the rest of the way, filling you completely. “Then we let them enjoy the show,” he replied, snapping his hips against your ass once. You could feel him grinding against the sweet spot deep inside you and you bit your lip hard, straining not to cry out. “I have no intention of stopping. But if you stay quiet like a good girl, they won’t have any reason to come check on us, non?” 

Rather than fucking you into the ottoman, Comte instead opted for shallow thrusts deep in your warmth and continued to grind against you. The constant pressure and friction felt so good it was almost painful. You bit your lip harder, tears springing from the corners of your eyes. Comte reached around to your mouth and gently pulled your abused lip from between your teeth with his thumb. He then slipped the digit between your lips instead, giving you something to keep your mouth occupied without hurting yourself. 

Comte was insistent on keeping your attention on yourself in the mirror. Every time you looked away, he would pull out just enough to where you received no stimulation. When you looked back up at the mirror, you were rewarded with the head of his thick length grinding into your sweet spot again. 

Comte’s other hand slipped between your thighs, his fingers deftly stroking the sensitive bud there. He timed his fingers with his hips, setting a gentle yet insistent rhythm. The lack of movement kept the sounds to a minimum; all that could really be heard around the room was a rustling of fabric and the muffled sighs from the both of you. The extra fabric around the room served as a sort of soundproofing as well, masking the sounds as well. You could feel the tension building in your abdomen, and you pushed your hips back against him. Comte’s lips trailed against your neck, his hot breath puffing against the shell of your ear. 

“Come for me,” he whispered, punctuating his command with a kiss under your ear and the insistent motion of his fingers between your thighs. The pressure in your belly suddenly snapped and you leaned forward, forgetting about the mirror; your inner walls contracting around the cock buried deep in you. Comte’s thumb slipped out of your mouth at the motion, but his hand wrapped around your mouth to prevent you from crying out in pleasure and alerting the store personnel to what exactly you were doing in their fitting room.

With a soft grunt, Comte’s free hand suddenly held your hips still as he too found his release. He instinctually pressed himself even deeper into your warmth and emptied himself inside of you with a shudder. Comte’s mouth settled over your pulse point. The urge to bite you was so intense it was hard to resist. His fangs ached with the desire to sink them into the succulent flesh of your neck, but he couldn't - not yet. Comte instead settled for gritting his teeth and pressing his face against you, a quiet groan escaping his throat. With an exhale and a kiss pressed to your shoulder, he pulled out and neatly tucked himself back in his pants. He moved your underwear back into place, preventing any fluid leakage for now, and smoothed out the skirt of your chemise. 

Comte spent the next five minutes making you both presentable again. Your heart was still pounding in your chest. You weren’t sure you would be able to shop at this store anymore for the sake of embarrassment. Once you were both decent, he shot you a cheeky grin and kissed your forehead. Your face flushed. “You have the worst poker face, ma chérie,” he chuckled. 

“Shut up,” you grumbled weakly in response, exhaling and trying to calm the heat rising in your cheeks.

Comte offered you his arm once more and guided you out of the fitting room. “We’ll take everything she tried on today,” Comte told the store clerk. You groaned in exasperation. You’re going to need a whole wing of the mansion just for your clothes if Comte keeps getting his way. However, that’s a problem for tomorrow you, you decide. For today, you’re content to let him keep spoiling you. 

“Je t’aime, Comte,” you murmur, leaning against his arm. 

“Je t’aime aussi,” he replies, kissing the top of your head. “And I always will.”

Dividers by @natimiles

Taglist: @natimiles

[kokofromwattpad]

IT BURNS

Featuring: Trey Clover, Kalim Al-Asim, Vil Shoenheit

Plot: The Ramshackle prefect gets itchy and turns into a lovely colour of red whenever they stand in the sun for too long

Cw: Gn! Reader, photosensitive! Reader, Trey Clover x reader, Kalim x reader, Vil x reader (Can all be read as platonic or romantic)

A/N: Basically, reader is sensitive to sunlight (JUST LIKE ME FRR)

TREY CLOVER:

-> The first and third years were having a joined flying lesson one day, so the prefect and Trey were just casually conversing as they were doing their stretches.

-> The sun was blazing overhead since there was a major heat wave going throughout the island, so everyone was getting tired and suffering from mild heatstroke every day

-> After a while, Trey had noticed that the prefect's cheeks and forearms had begun to tint a light redish colour.

-> It's when the itchiness and pain began to come in that Trey began to worry.

-> Hurriedly, Trey goes to Coach Vargas and asks for permission to take a break with the prefect. Coach agrees, and Trey leads them underneath the trees to try and ease up on their discoloration.

-> When the vice dorm leader asks for an explanation, all the prefect says is that they are sensitive to the sun had get extremely itchy when they stand in the sun for too long.

-> All Trey does is sigh and stay by their side until the end of the lesson, to which he then buys them a bottle of water to keep them hydrated :)

KALIM AL-ASIM:

-> The Ramshackle prefect was staying over at Scarabia for dinner since Kalim was celebrating for passing one of his history tests.

-> It was the middle of summer, and Kalim decided that he wanted to march to the oasis in celebration and then swim and have a sort of 'pool' party in the oasis.

-> It was actually Jamil who noticed that the prefect was acting odd. They were scratching at their scalp and forearms, trying to relieve the intense pain that was trickling up in their body.

-> Kalim quickly jumps down from the elephant he was riding and quickly sprints to where the prefect was busy scratching away at their skin.

-> Kalim summons his unique magic and dumps the water on them, thinking that that would help relieve them

-> It did

-> Kalim would then on, periodically dump water on the prefect as they continued to march to the oasis.

VIL SHOENHEIT:

-> There was a spelldrive match against RSA that Vil watched and supported since Epel was playing on NRC's team.

-> The prefect tagged along since Epel was their friend and coincidentally was seated next to Vil.

-> After some simple greetings and passing along pleasantries, the two sat in silence as they watched Epel playing in the match.

-> A half an hour into the match, Vil noticed the prefect scratching at their legs and arms, leaving small pale lines in their skin from how blunt their nails are.

-> The model gasped internally at the sight and looked at the prefect with a concerned look on his face.

-> "Did you apply any sunscreen before you got here, potato?" He questions, perfectly plucked eyebrow raising in suspicion.

-> When the prefect nodded and explained that the itchiness happens even if they put on multitudes of sunscreen, they still itch and burn up.

-> Vil tuts and hands them his chilled water bottle to help ease up on the heat they were feeling.

-> A couple of days later, a salve of some sort of cream was left on the prefect's doorstep with a note saying that it would help their skin.

Posted on: 11/01/2024 08:27

[gladiatorcunt]

you nailed how i imagined modern!feyd to be (batshit crazy) but you think he‘d let cute hello kitty reader put like stickers and bows on his motorcycle and stuff lmao? would he be an ass and be mean about it or would he allow it because reader is all sad and mopey otherwise 😔🎀 (maybe brat reader? like how would mans handle that in the modern au because in the canon verse pissing him off is a bit too scary) and alsoooo i laughed my ass off when you wrote he would debone coryo like a fish because yuh that twink (he could do bad things to me) wouldn’t stand a chance fr

he would actually make coryo so concerned, like they’re both from well off families (feyd just does underground fighting bc for the #love of the game) but coryo will be like “these poor people are CRAZY.” coryo gives off the vibes of he’d tell someone to kill for him (especially when he gets older, or he wouldn’t get his hands dirty if he does it himself & he’s methodical), feyd is tearing out throats with his teeth. he’d tackle his uncle and start stabbing, he’d gnaw his own arm off just for fun like you can’t compete where you don’t compare tbh. (coryo’s still my bf tho <3)

anyway,

cw: 18+ mdni, typical feyd warnings, spanking/pain play type stuff

modern!feyd would only let you put stickers on his bike if they’re the ones that are like hello kitty holding a gun or something. it’s not like he’s afraid that the softer ones will undermine his masculinity or anything, feyd’s ripping into other men with no real regard for keeping their bodies intact, it’s just that the cutesy stickers go on his helmet. he’ll let you tie a ribbon around his bicep and film videos of him flexing and making it pop off. he would wear matching pjs with you, but he doesn’t want to get blood on them so he sticks to his trusty sweats. he’s the kind of person to wear black in the hot summer sun because he’s spiteful enough to not give a fuck about heatstroke, like it’s something he could fight lmao. gets a matching dear daniel x hello kitty tattoo with you i fear, or a my melody x kuromi one since that’s more your dynamic.

brat!reader with canon era feyd does scare me to death, but with modern!feyd it’s fun to think about…. to a degree. like if you keep it up, he’s pausing the match and dragging you inside the ring to spank you in front of everyone. open palm strikes with half of his strength, if he used all of it your ass might fall off. his rings add even more sting. you learn quickly to know when to pack it up and throw in the towel, because he will NEVER be the one to test out your devious little ideas and macinations out on. he’ll shove a vibrator up your pussy and take you for a long ride on his bike, ignoring the way you try to hump him as he points out the sights he thinks you’d be interest in. weirdly punishes you by fucking nice and slow when you want your shit rocked, he doesn’t even edge you or anything, he just gives it you so soft and sweet and holds your hips down so you can’t try to buck them.

in some ways, you being at his matches has helped his abilities. (you do have to come to his fights btw, if you’re not there expect the rumble of his engine to be heard outside of wherever you’re at. feyd will get his unlce to cancle the match if you’re not there, he’s ultimately a certain kind of performer and if the key audience member isn’t there??? what’s the point.) he has to keep an eye on you, which helps him multitask. he’ll be punching some fuckin’ loser into an unrecognizable pulp while, out of the corner of his eye, making sure that no one’s trying to drag you into any wagers or into their cars. he’s curious if you could cum just from watching one of his fights, from hearing the agonized whimpers of his opponent as feyd effortlessly conquers them. something about you must be sick, because the more ruthless he is in a fight, the higher you’re jumping on him and the more marks you’re sucking into his neck.

you’re so clumsy with it, always putting too much teeth into your hickeys. but that’s just the way he likes it, because you know he’s actively holding back from biting you so hard that’s nearly cannibalizing you. (side note: loves gorey horror, nothing too funny or artsy, he likes shit that cares more about the pure carnage than quips or wide camera shots. hannibal is too “fancy” for him, he always asks you to explain what the fuck they’re talking about.) definition of mauling you like a bear, fucking him is like meeting God if they were an eldritch horror and you were on the brink of death. it is NOT for the weak, his thick arms holding you in a headlock as he pistons his gigantic cock into your cervix. he makes you cum until pass out, then he makes you do it again to wake you up. really good at resetting your brain if you need him too.

modern!feyd who gives you the ultimate scary guard dog priviledge. you’re going about your business in a store and he’s practically vibrating behind you, foaming at the mouth and waiting for some mf to try it with you so he can berserk. but no one ever takes the bait, just one look at his deranged ass and they’re swiftly turning on their heels and high tailing it out of the apple store (you’re taking too long to pick what color imac you want.) copies whatever pictures you saw on pinterest, acting as your little prop. wrapping a tattooed hand around your throat, mirror selfies where he’s holding you over his shoulder by your ass, gross close ups of his long tongue wrapped around yours, insta stories directed at paul specficially bc he won’t stay out of your dms. asks his opponents for date ideas while he’s beating their ass 💀, made his uncle organize a remartch (even though feyd won) with the guy who limped over to your adorably clad in pink form and asked you to get boba (because he noticed feyd giving you your favorite before his fights).

pierced dick, would sharpen his teeth and make his tongue forked. face tattoos + whatever piercing’s more painful. big in body mods overalls like he sees himself as an extension of his motorcycle that he’s always illeggaly modding, fast and furious type specs that no court of law would deem road safe. but he always devotes part of his brain to making sure you’re safe when you ride along with him, reaching behind him and his black painted nails rubbing comforting little circles into your plush thighs. ambidextrous by choice and practice, for sure has a cauliflower ear. whenever you’re sad and pouting, he’s grabbing your chin in between his thumb an pointer finger and lifting your head up so he lovingly teases you about being a crybaby and so he can lick your tears away. (and he doesn’t even do it with sexual intent, feyd’s genuinely just trying to consume your sadness directly since word’s aren’t his strong suit.) could fall asleep in an ice bath, has done it before, dad type snoring like you wouldn’t believe.

loves it when you ride him in any kind of water, you have to pack extra strength sun screen if you’re going to be out in the sun though bc he WILL burn more often than not. still has your pussy gorilla glue gripping his length though, there’s no pain on earth that would put him out of comission & that’s a promise.

[stareaterau]

Chapter 1 episode 1

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Index

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Let's start with a familiar face, shall we!

CW: violence And the mention of blood and injury

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The heat is unbearable. Scar wakes, wheezing out a hot breath that circles in his sealed helmet, fogged by the last of his moisture. A building headache pulses behind his eyes. He reaches up to rub the soreness out, but his gloves clank uselessly against the visor. He blinks, squinting through the harsh light. His first instinct is to rip the helmet off for the relief of fresh air, but as his eyes adjust, he doubts it’ll make a difference.

He’s in a desert. The dusty and cracked ground stretches all the way to the horizon. Nothing about this place feels familiar, in fact, the bright orange gradients in the sand look alien. He has no way of telling if the air here is breathable, and though it’s tempting, testing it isn’t worth the risk. The sheer lack of life in the landscape certainly doesn’t bode well in that regard.

He tries to think back to how he got here, but there’s nothing. He doesn’t remember falling asleep outside. Definitely not here, and definitely not with his helmet still on.

Reflexively, he reaches for his communicator, but it’s not there. With rising anxiety, he pats down the rest of his person. His gun, enderchest and communicator are all gone. The only useful thing he still has left on him is the helmet on his head.

That’s concerning. He keeps those things on him at all times. It’s mandatory. As much as Scar would push the rules, he can’t deny the sense in keeping his gun, enderchest and communicator at all times. Even with his reputation, he wouldn’t just wander into the wilderness with none of his gear. He’s more competent than that at least, right?

There are no constructed landmarks nearby to use to figure out where he is, and he won’t be able to figure out the star system he’s in until the sun has set. At least whoever left him here had the decency to leave him with his helmet on. He can panic about being stranded, while puffing recycled air.

He thinks for a moment that maybe if he stays put the Vindicators will come looking for him, but that idea is quickly squashed by the realization that he’ll probably die of heatstroke before they realize he’s gone. His best bet is to walk until he finds some sign of intelligent life… or run out of oxygen in the process.

Not the most optimistic reality, but nevertheless Scar picks himself up, bushes the desert dust off his clothes, and scans the horizon for the most promising direction. Hoping, desperately, that he's not about to get himself even more lost than he already is.

With a sigh, he squints at the horizon with his hands on his hips. He finds cracks and grooves in the sand that open up beneath him to form long ravines. The gouges in front of him seem to open up into larger trenches that follow a relatively straight path, a much better scenario than splitting into maze-like passages. He nods approvingly. It’s his best bet to make his way down into the ravine. It’s depth is about double his height, which should still provide some shade from that glaring sun.

He spots a relatively safe way to get down— a sandy slope built up against the otherwise harsh stone. He walks tentatively towards it, but stops at the sound of a beep. Looking around for the cause of the noise, he sees a collection of rocks protruding from the sand, but no movement. He checks the soles of his boots too, in case he stepped on some kind of device hidden in the sand, or maybe a small creature, but he sees nothing there, either.

He’s probably just imagined it. Continuing on, he hurries down towards the slope, desperate to escape the heat. The sound of sand scrapes against his leg braces as he slides, and he keeps a hand pressed into the sand behind him to stay steady. He manages to avoid slipping as the sand shifts below his feet, but only barely.

The shade cuts the temperature in half, and Scar sags with relief. The ravine is just as lifeless and empty as the surface, albeit far more claustrophobic. The curving, orange walls hide the vastness of their expanse from view. Scar’s footfalls echo down the chasm. He’s not sure if he prefers the company of the extra sound or if it just makes him feel more exposed. Everything is so empty and open, and an almost perfect mirror to the clear sky. The entire atmosphere radiates with a yellow glow, as if the sun takes up the whole sky. Maybe it does. Out of the corner of his eye, Scar finally detects movement— a shadow across the dusty scenery, but he reacts too late, and looks up to see the shadow is gone, and the sun’s still bright.

He walks for at least five minutes before another beep is heard again, except this time it doesn’t stop there. Quickening, it takes about thirty seconds untill the next one, forcing Scar to accept he hadn’t imagined it.

He listens, face wrinkled with concentration. The beep isn’t coming from anywhere around him. It feels like it’s in the back of his head. Whatever it’s trying to tell him, he can’t figure it out.

He turns to his left, kicks a few stones, tests if the sound reacts. Maybe it’s something hidden in his jacket pocket. He rifles around in them, remembering they’re all empty, and goes back to struggling to understand the pattern of the beeps. It keeps slowing and quickening— even when Scar is walking in a straight direction, so it can’t possibly be leading him to a fixed place, and he tried waiting a few minutes after each beep, just for nothing to happen, so it can’t be warning him about anything.

Frustrated, Scar tunes it out eventually, and focuses instead on making his way through the desert. He'll be glad to find anything other than rocks, sand and the sourceless beeping at this point. At one point he sees movement again, another shadow darting across the ground. It looks almost like a bird, but Scar can’t be sure, the shape vanishing almost as soon as he notices it. It’s like it’s evading his view, like it’s trying to make him second guess himself.

Scar groans. It’s been a long trek through the winding canyon. The sweat drippin into his eyes taunts him— he wishes more than anything to be able to wipe it from his brow, but alas, Scar’s not quite desperate enough to risk removing the helmet.

Almost on autopilot, he trudges on, trying to think through the heat about what it could mean. He racks his melting brain for more things that might cause beeping in your head, or what it means. Scar’s so caught up in his thoughts that he almost misses the beeps getting faster, faster than they had gotten before. When he finally notices, he stops in his tracks, snapping to attention as it continues to speed up.

He doesn’t notice the winged figure swoop down until the impact pushes him to the ground.

Scar screams, head ringing as his visor smacks into the earth. He struggles, trying to roll over to face his assailant, but he’s immediately pinned to the ground by long, dark talons. The figure stares at him through their own helmet, like his except for the visor, which is split into two deep, dark, void-like eyes. They make no sound as their wings spread out, blocking out the sun with their feathers. A glowing blue knife held above their head.

"No wait- wait!"

The figure ignores his pleas, bringing the weapon down. Scar barely manages to deflect the stranger's aim, the knife sinking into his shoulder instead of his heart. Choking back a yell and instinctively shutting his eyes to the pain, he didn’t feel the blade being pulled out, nor see the figure grabbing their own shoulder in confusion.

"What?“ Head swiveling wildly, they balk. “Where?"

Scar shifts on reflex under the weight of the stranger, but this only brings the attacker’s attention back to him, their grip tightening. Without anything to defend himself with, his gun missing and this stanger holding a clear advantage, Scar scrambles for leverage.

He wasn't given time to collect himself as the stranger brings down the hilt of their weapon into his visor, shattering the thick glass.

Scar flinches back as the glass slashes into his cheek, but by some miracle misses his eye.

He pants, unable to catch his breath,helplessly expecting another hit— but the stranger stops. Scar is finally given a moment to reign in his panicking senses, and focuses on the vacant eyes of the stranger’s helmet. Thoughts swim in his slightly concussed mind, and he fishes one up at random.

"...Are we done fighting now?" Scar asks with a nervous laugh, trying to keep eye contact despite one eye now being exposed to the desert sun.

The stranger doesn’t answer.

They’re no longer putting all their weight on him, and eventually slides backwards to a stand, gaze still locked on Scar.

Grateful for the temporary relief, but still cautious, he shuffles slightly to check how the stranger will react. Once he’s sure he isn’t about to be whacked again, he shakily folds his legs under himself to stand, only slightly wobbly, wincing from his injured shoulder.

"So…” Scar tries again, “I think it’s fair to say the air is breathable here."

Scar coughs as he pulls off his helmet, doing his best to avoid the broken glass. The stranger, eerily quiet, considers Scar for a moment, then reaches to take off their own helmet, revealing eyes as deep and dark as their visor, with the same soulless look.

The person in front of Scar is painfully familiar, but he doesn’t skip formalities.

"Well, hello there!" He puts his hand out, but the stranger does not shake it. Their eyes remain locked onto his own, like they’re studying them.

Scar meets the gaze for a while, then his eyes wander to the blood on their face.

"Oh, your cheek-" he gasps, pointing towards it.

They do not move to check their face, pointing to Scar instead.

"Well, same." the stranger mumbles, their voice strained.

"Oh!- " Scar reaches for where the visor had cut him. He'd almost forgotten.

He looks back up at the stranger, to find him pulling a very uncomfortable face. And it clicks.

"Wait- I recognise you."

[russellsppttemplates]

Can you do a blurb where Finn is older and maybe does Qatar and ends up having to retire bc he feels unwell from heat? And max helps

I love your stuff🧡

Cw: heatstroke, nausea

"It's way too warm! It was back when you raced and it hasn't been getting colder!", you hissed as the team didn't seem too worried about the fact that Finn, along with some of the other drivers on track, seemed to be struggling.

The minute Finn says he's had to get his hands out and control the steering wheel with his wrists so he could cool then down a little, you and Max drew the line. Walking over to the desk, you spoke to his engineer and the decided it would be best to retire the car, "I don't care about points or standings, this is way too hot for them and money is the only reason this Grand Prix happens still", you roared in the garage. It wasn't the first time you defended your son when he needed to, and they knew better than to play with you as Max rubbed his hands on your arms, urging you to calm down and breathe properly as you watched the car being reversed into the garage.

Finn was helped to come out of the car as they fanned him with fresh and cold air, getting his weight before he could sat down on the chair next to you, "hey, love", you cooed, giving him water to drink as he closed his eyes briefly.

"I'm so sorry I didn't get to finish the race, I know it's disappointing", he groaned out.

"No, it's not disappointing, Finn. You weren't feeling well and you shouldn't race in such conditions", Max rubbed his shoulder, "I'm very proud of you", Max ensured his son heard him, having been on the other side and wondering if there was pride directed at him.

"You didn't yell at anyone, did you, mama?", Finn asked a little after as he felt more himself, "of course I did, I can yell about my son as much as I want to", you stated, "also, Julia sent me a message wishing you well and saying that she heard me growl on TV", your shrugged your shoulders, "all that matters is that you're okay", you kissed his forehead.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

[euphemiaamillais]

meadow song — sejanus plinth

cw: 18+//loss of virginity//blowjobs//handjobs (the whole nine yards basically)//semi-public sex//exhibitionism (coryo is watching)//jealous!coryo//reader is a slut for peacekeepers ;)//creampie//mentions of prev. relationship with coryo

when private coriolanus snow, an ex-lover of yours, enlists you to take the virginity of his best friend, sejanus plinth, you take him up on the offer, wanting to give him a birthday present he’ll remember

when you’d been propositioned by private snow, the more daring and at times flirtatious of the two boys, you’d returned his offer with a look of surprise. to take his fellow peacekeeper’s virginity? you weren’t even sure that his friend had wanted that, but private snow assured you—private plinth was going to be nineteen soon, and it was a gift from his ‘best friend’.

you had slept with private snow once or twice—in fact you’d been the one to pop his cherry—and were in good terms with him. sometimes he’d sneak you some of sejanus’ ma’s food, he seemed to enjoy your company, and because you liked him so much, you’d agreed to be the one to take sejanus’ virginity.

he was a sweet boy, you two had frequently enjoyed conversation at the hob, but part of you was nervous with how to approach him. private snow had invited you to join them in the meadow on their free sunday, and you decided that nothing harmful could come from it.

it was a balmy day, so you were dressed in nothing but a white sundress which scraped just past your knees, and donned a wide-brimmed sun hat that reminded you of what your grandmother used to wear, before the war. you lived in the seam, so the meadow was not too far of a walk, and there was a cool enough breeze that it didn’t feel like heatstroke would strike you down as you made your way to the meadow.

when you arrived, the boys were nestled under the shade of the tree, eating an array of sejanus’ ma’s sweets. you saw there was also a plastic bag—full of ice, coryo’s treat—and a bottle of white liquor. you supposed they’d gotten it the night before at the hob, because half of it had already been downed and the laughter of the two of them indicated they were somewhat inebriated.

‘i hope you two aren’t drunk,’ you greeted them, settling down against one of the rocks.

coriolanus grinned at you, but sejanus could hardly meet your eyes. clearly he was shy about what coryo had planned for him—at least, you assumed that he had been informed about his birthday present.

‘do you want some of ma’s cookies?’ coryo offered you the box, and you took one with a grateful smile.

your stomach had been grumbling since last night—you’d not had enough money to eat today, and were thankful for the delicious sweet treats that ma plinth often baked.

‘thank you, coryo,’ you swallowed it down in one bite, and took another one hungrily.

there was silence for a while, nothing but the sound of jabberjays whistling permeated the balmy air. you were parched, and reached for the bag of ice without asking—you hoped it was a given—piercing the side and letting the cool liquid trickle down your throat.

when you finished drinking and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, you noticed sejanus’ dark eyes were on you. you returned his gaze, and his cheeks suddenly pinked before coryo broke the silence.

‘sej, you don’t need to be embarrassed. she’s only here to help,’ coryo said with a laugh, and sejanus cast a gentle nod.

‘if it helps, i really like you sej,’ you moved to settle down next to him, taking his hand in your own.

‘i don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything,’ he begun, bottom lip trembling.

for such a broad and stocky boy, his temperament was overly-tender. something you wouldn’t have expected, had you not know him, but the way the skin around his eyes softened, and how his cheeks crinkled each time he smiled, told a different story.

‘sejanus…’ your lips curved into a smile. ‘i want to.’

‘she knows what she’s doing, sej,’ coryo remarked with a knowing grin.

‘hey, don’t brag, coriolanus,’ you stretched out the syllables of his name teasingly.

you nestled closer against sejanus, feeling the heat radiating between your bodies. he shyly wrapped an arm around your shoulders, while coryo cast a slightly jealous look at the two of you. sejanus couldn't see that though, he only flushed some more, while you pondered upon how you'd walk him through the motions.

he'd probably kissed a few girls before—you figured they knew games like spin the bottle and truth or dare in the capitol—but in every other aspect, according to coriolanus, his friend was completely virginal. you blushed a little, even though you were a well-versed lover, because taking someone's innocence always resulted in a few awkward moments—usually on the boy's behalf. you wanted it to happen as perfectly as it could, particularly because he wasn't just interested in chasing his pleasure like coryo had been.

‘you can kiss me, if you want,’ you murmured softly to sejanus, who took you up on the offer.

though it was hot, you were too determined to give up on your endeavours. you shut your eyes, and felt sejanus press his lips against yours. he was soft, at first, hand moving to clasp your neck, before he deepened the kiss. his mouth was hot, and his tongue slid between your plump lips which were equally as willing.

you could feel coryo’s eyes burning into the two of you—somehow it caused your thighs to tingle a little at the thought of him watching you, and the jealousy that must’ve been raging through his veins. sejanus let out a soft moan as you moved one hand to grip at the nape of his neck, your touch surprisingly cool. your mouths danced as you kissed for a while longer, uncaring that your foreheads were bumping as you began to embrace one another with fervour.

your forehead glistened with sweat as you pulled away, seeing sejanus’ dark eyes deepen with a look of satisfaction. perhaps he wasn’t as shy as you’d thought—he was certainly a very good kisser. the first time coryo had kissed you it had been like he was suffocating and you were his air. sejanus on the other hand, was softer, more delicate and yet at the same time brought a sense of passion to your embrace.

coryo’s gaze was searing as you met his icy eyes. he fiddled with a stick, seemingly carving it with a touch of envy as you moved to sit by either side of sejanus’ thighs. the feeling of your bare legs brushing against his fatigues made his heart thump a little faster, the blood beginning to pool deep in his belly, threatening to rush to his cock.

you moved your hand to creep up his leg, watching his chest heave slightly as you brushed your palm over the growing bulge in his pants. he stifled a groan, but you could see the way his lips curved into a satisfied grin, and continued to tease your hand against his clothed cock.

‘please, don’t tease me,’ sejanus begged, a look of exasperation drawn upon his features.

you cast a brief nod, seeing how riled up he already was. you were inclined to be kinder with him; you'd forgotten that unlike coryo, most men hated the teasing—whereas coryo saw it as a challenge for himself.

sejanus' cock seemed properly hard when you unzipped his pants, and when you slid your hand past the waistband of his boxers, you could feel how he throbbed. a slight whimper left his lips, but he attempted to keep quiet because being reduced to a whining mess in front of his best friend would have led to lifelong mortification. coryo would never let that go.

you began to stroke him gently, and when you pulled his cock fully out of his underwear your eyes widened. while he wasn't as long as coryo, he had more than double the girth. his tip was leaking a little with precum, and the veins that danced down his cock were angrily pulsating.

'you're really a virgin?' you whispered, one brow cocked in surprise. how could a girl say no to him? he was sweet—too sweet at times—handsome, and his cock... well, you counted yourself lucky to be the one to take his virginity. it was almost an honour.

'yeah...' he admitted, cheeks burning a little.

coryo's ears perked up, as he attempted to surmise what you two were discussing, but you kept your voice low, understanding that sejanus wanted to keep this private.

'well, i never would've been able to tell,' you smiled softly, and sejanus' lips flickered into a pleased, almost proud, grin.

'girls back in the capitol... they didn't like how i was from the districts,' he sighed, eyes filling with a look of forlorn.

'well you don't have to worry about that with me,' you pressed a kiss to his cheek, before moving down to work at his achingly hard cock.

you stroked it gently for a minute or two, thumbing the tip and smearing the precum over his thick shaft. sejanus groaned, tossing his head back as your hands worked deftly at him. you decided to go all out—it was his birthday present, after all.

you moved to kneel in the grass, settling yourself between his knees. he looked down at you with anticipatory want, mouth watering at the sight of you before him. eyes wide, tongue darting out as you bent to lick his cock. coryo couldn't see what was going on—and you preferred to keep it that way. if he was jealous it was his own fault; he'd recruited you to take sejanus' virginity. any claim he'd had over you had obviously been ceded with this request.

sejanus groaned as your tongue laved at his sensitive tip, more precum dribbling out. you smiled up at him as you wrapped your lips around his cock, letting your tongue move down the underside of his shaft, brushing against a particularly sensitive vein. one of his hands gently rooted itself in your hair—he'd seen coryo do that enough times—gently playing with it as you began to bob your head up and down.

your lips were stretched around his girthy cock, and you took him as far down as you could, gagging as his tip hit the back of your throat. his breathing was ragged as your tongue danced around his shaft, sticky saliva coating every inch of him. while his girth made it harder to take him, once you hollowed out your cheeks you managed to fill your throat, unlike coryo who made you tear up when he forced himself as far as he could go.

he bucked his hips gently, but when you made a soft gagging sound in response he murmured out an apology. you shook your head—he was so sweet and gentle, such a contrast to the other men you'd had before. it almost made you want to cry.

a little embarrassed at how close he felt, sejanus began to worry that he'd finish in your mouth. you felt him twitching, and removed your mouth, leaning back against your heels. he sighed at the loss of feeling, but was secretly glad that you'd sensed he was getting closer to his release.

on slightly shaky feet, you stood up and moved your legs either side of sejanus. his hands daringly crept up under the hem of your dress, and when his fingers caressed your inner thigh a soft moan escaped your lips. he felt so good—his touch was warm, and in spite of the heat in the meadow that made your head spin, you leaned into his ministrations. one of his fingers brushed across your core unknowingly, and you let out a loud sigh.

coryo's eyes met yours and your face reddened in embarrassment. he'd heard you make that sound half-a-dozen times with him, and now his best friend—his virgin best friend—was eliciting those same content sighs from your lips.

'seems like you know what you're doing, sej,' you remarked, an impish grin painted upon your face.

sejanus laughed, shaking his head. 'no, not really.'

his cock still throbbed pathetically, and his hips rutted a little in an attempt to ease his wanton need. your thighs tingled as he continued to grasp at them, hands managing to lace themselves into the waistband of your panties. sejanus tugged them down with a look of proud surprise, letting them fall to your ankles.

'sejanus,' you said breathily, lowering yourself down against him.

his eyes widened as you sank down on him, your cunt achingly wet as you felt the fat head of his cock stretch you out. your lips stretched around a lustful moan, which was mottled with the sound of his own groan of pleasure.

'fuck...' he cursed, a heavy breath escaping his lips.

you felt so good—so, so good. he didn't know if he could last any longer. shame painted his features as he began to worry about coming in you—imagine that. coryo would never let him live it down.

you let your cunt sink fully around him, feeling his tip poking against your cervix as he filled you to the hilt. he cursed himself for not having done this sooner—he hadn't expected it to feel so amazing, the way you clenched around him, how wet you were. you began to slide up and down, your cunt so slick with want that the sound of it squelching against his cock could be heard even by coryo.

the two of you were panting by this point, sweat clinging to your foreheads, your tendrils of hair sticking to the back of your perspiring neck. you didn't care though, he felt so deliciously good, you were pleasantly full. the veins brushed slightly against your walls, causing your head to loll back a little at the sensation.

'so big,' you panted as sejanus gave his hips an experimental thrust.

when he saw how your eyes rolled back, he moved again, this time with more vigour. your clit was throbbing, but as sejanus continued to buck into you, you lost the want to rub slow circles around it, instead feeling his girthy cock hitting that sensitive spot inside of you.

'i-' sejanus struggled through his words, eyes fluttering shut in exasperation. 'so fucking good, don't know if i can-'

you silenced him with your lips, pressing a hot kiss against his mouth and letting your tongue slide between his wet lips. he moaned into your mouth as you clenched around him again, feeling the beginnings of your own release begin to pool in your cunt.

the pit of your stomach was a tight coil, hot and slowly beginning to unravel with every rut of his hips. you'd never orgasmed before from penetration alone, and certainly never with a virgin. you were slightly shocked at how good his cock was filling you out, the girth more than making up for his average length.

'oh god, sejanus!' you cried out, watching coryo grunt with disbelief. to him, it looked as if you were putting on a show. both you and sejanus knew that it was far from the truth—your legs were trembling as you came closer and closer to your peak.

sejanus felt a rush of confidence mixed with adrenaline and pressed kisses against your neck, lips trailing down to your jugular. he sucked hotly at the skin, teeth dragging along them. you moaned at the tension, and soon enough felt yourself come undone.

wetness gushed from your cunt, coating his cock in a delicious slick that only drove him further over the edge. the way you were clenching was maddening, he looked down for a second to see a milky ring at the base of him, your own want clear on his shaft. he could hardly believe that he'd made you come on his first attempt. perhaps coryo wasn't as good as he thought.

'sej,' you huffed, continuing to ride his cock, edging him towards his own pleasure.

sejanus groaned, hands wrapping around your waist as he thrust his hips into your tight, wet cunt. your head swum from the heat and your body began to tingle from overstimulation, but you continued to let his cock press at your cervix, enjoying how well he was doing. he'd certainly performed better than coriolanus, who finished in thirty seconds when you'd taken his virginity.

'gonna...' he caught his breath, balls tightening for release. 'gonna cum.'

he rose his brows in askance, and you gave a heady nod, delighting at the thought of him filling you up. he was sent over the edge when you clenched around him for a final time, groaning as hot cum spurted into your cunt. it was so sticky, and you continued to sink up and down on his shaft, watching as his own cum trickled back down over his cock.

it was messy, shamefully so, but you couldn't help but giggle at the sensation of his cum slipping out of your cunt. sejanus was in overdrive, and a few whimpers escaped his lips, causing you to grin impishly.

'i hope you liked your present, sejanus,' you murmured against his lips, sliding gently off his cock.

he nodded dumbly, cock beginning to go flacid. there was so much mess on his uniform, but you couldn't help but smirk—everybody would know that he'd finally gotten some play.

'and coryo,' you called out him—he was glowering at you with jealousy as you cleaned yourself up. 'sejanus is better than you ever were.'