#gonna strike a match and burn it / v. main.

[crowgreeds]

@huntershowl thread cont'd from disco <3 Something is wrong. Either this is a spy, posing as someone slightly less threatening to glean as much information as possible — her retaliation methods, her speed of noticing a tail — or this is a message. She knows it's a risk to let the stranger live in case it's the first one, but something about them makes her hesitate, for just long enough, in case it's the second. The arm holding the stranger by the hair presses a little harder into the wall. Just for good measure. "Speak," she hisses. "You don't have long to prove you're worth something to me alive."

The rough edge of the brick wall is sharp against the side of his face and Kaz grimaces as Seph presses him against the stone with even more force. She doesn't need to tell him to speak quickly for him to know he's only got one chance at this. Just one before it is lights out forever and every gamble they've made up to this point is but for naught.

     "Why don't we make a deal?" He rasps, daring to twist within their grip just enough that he might see them in his peripherals. "There are some matters that you could help me with and in return I have some information that I think you would be interested in hearing." He pauses for a half-second to let that sink in. "You have been searching for someone in particular for a long time if I'm not mistaken? One would think finding bastards in the barrel wouldn't be a difficult endeavour but this city is full of surprises and if you want to know what I know then let me turn around so we may speak face-to-face."

[crowgreeds]

     "What the hell makes you think a bald cap is going to be any better? Admit it you just want to see what I'd look like with no hair - keep on dreaming, Fahey it isn't going to happen."

@crowgreeds wants jesper being a little asshole

ㅤㅤ" THINK YOUR DISGUISE isn't gonna fool anyone. you should go for the bald cap instead of the grey wig. "

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Sound Proof

okay so this fic was from Wattpad and I found it in my google docs so I’m just gonna upload it here for ya’ll lol. I didn’t tag, I wrote this a while ago let me know what ya’ll think!!!

Warnings: Smut.

With dancing, came immense concentration and a lot of cardio.

That was all okay for Damara. She wore her silk pressed hair back into a pony, simple Polo Ralph Lauren hat on to keep her edges slicked back, high waist thin grey leggings, all white cropped tank, and matching white Vans. Damara held onto the aluminum double bar Ballet barre, studying her glistening reflection within the wall mirrors that covered every single area from floor to ceiling. 

Her chest rose and fell, right hand coming up to rub sweat off the tip of her nose. She had thirty minutes down, only twenty more to go. Being a pro dancer was fun when you posted tutorials on Instagram and YouTube, but when it came down to touring internationally and getting a chance to perform at Coachella, dance became a full time job.

Damara stares down at her version three iWatch, allowing herself to become consumed with the breathing app. She watched it expand with every breath, then declined whenever she exhaled. After her breathing returned to normal, Damara pulled up her iTunes playlist again, choosing to go sensual with a little bit of flash dance routine.

The instrumental to Kendrick Lamar- Love.

This song was always a warm up for her because it got her ‘in the mood’. She could feel the want and need behind the beat and his words. Damara snakes her hands up her frame, sliding slowly from the cuff of her ass, to her lower back, and lightly up and over her shoulders, forearms pressing into her large D cup breasts. 

One thing is for sure, Damara could move her torso like Shakira, body rolling and ticking to the beat with perfect harmony. Doing a sudden spin on her tiptoes, Damara Lowers herself to the polished flooring, arching her back off of the surface with her legs spread into a V, before lifting her lower half off the ground to do a series of air kicks like she was back in an 80s workout video or like she was in Kanye West’s video for Fade instead of Teyana Taylor.

She turned over onto her hands, hitting a side to side split perfectly before lifting from the ground to walk seductive and tantalizing towards the middle of the dance studio.

That’s where it began, the sweatiest most bewitching dance yet. Her hands cascade everywhere, eyes closed to take in the beat with heightened hearing. Her hands rubbed along the outline of her pussy in a teasing manner. Damara was so shameless when it came to dancing provocatively. She twirled and made an S with her body like a snake, body in sync to the beat. The sultry look in her eyes could trap you like Medusa. You would think she danced to one of Prince's songs from the outside looking in. 

The song came to an end, Damara lifting her shirt over her head and tossing it in the corner, picking up her gallon water bottle to take a huge sip. She wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand, feeling the burn in her curvy waistline from all the crunching and belly rolling that came with dancing. Her gluteal muscles were on fire as well, causing Damara to admire her ass in the mirror, sweat staining the crack of her ass over the fabric. 

—

Finishing up, Damara grabs all her things before leaving the dance studio at the gym she finally snagged a membership for. The gym had two sections: one for premium guests who had VIP access to the soundproof workout rooms or standard. Sadly, Damara was standard. She always wanted to workout in the soundproof tinted glass rooms like all the extremely fit individuals did, but one look through those glasses at the equipment housed within would make you withdraw with fear. Her personal trainer had stressed for her to go VIP, bribing her with access to the ice bath room and luxury pool where you can watch the LA skyline like you’re in a hotel.

She made a left at the end of the hall, walking with her shirt and towel over her shoulder to the main gymnasium area full of musky people and terrible workout music. Even though Damara did a one hour session of dancing, she couldn’t help but to gravitate towards the stair master for a good fifteen minute burn. Once there, Damara climbs the stairs, beginning her workout on nine speed, instantly feeling the ache. Her eyes scanned the area, finally landing on a group of women huddled around one of the sound proof workout rooms for VIP gold card members. 

She let out a tired chuckle, shaking her ponytail clad head before pausing to drink some water. Of COURSE they would all salivate over some random ass man instead of working out, because that’s what gyms are for these days. On queue every day Damara comes to the gym, once the clock strikes 8 pm, a hoard of women suffocate the glass, fogging it with their heavy breathing and wetting it with saliva from their wiggling tongues. Damara would have been one of them if she listened to her group of girlfriends who didn’t come in tonight. Supposedly, there is this fine ass man that comes to the gym every day, around 8 pm. Damara never seems to catch him, and even if she did, no man was that fine to act like a hyena over. He couldn’t be that sexy.

“Ooo, girl, let me get off this got damn treadmill he back again!” Damara turned to find a short, slim, mocha skinned girl with a track runners body ogling the group of women, her friend who looked like she could be her sister, biting her lip.

“I wonder if he’s doing the pull ups right now, fuckk. You know his dick stay hard when he working out.” 

The other girl laughs, “I just want to suck it. Just give me one good time!” 

Both women laughed while Damara tries her best to work out and ignore them. But to her surprise, she couldn’t focus. Not because of the talking, but because she wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Maybe after this she could rub it in her friends faces that whoever this guy was, wasn’t about the hype after all.

Defeated, Damara stopped her workout, quickly lowering herself off the machine and towards some spray and paper towels to wipe away her sweat. Tossing everything, Damara makes her way towards the sound proof workout room straight across from the men’s locker room. 

Here she was, and yet just a few minutes ago she was laughing to herself at how ridiculous it was to come to a gym and stare at a man for two hours. Wasn’t no man fine enough for that.

The glass window straight ahead had about seven ladies standing in front of it, whispering and admiring at what looked like absolutely nothing to Damara. It was so dark she couldn’t see a thing. As she got closer, at first, all she could see through that glass was the usual workout machines of all types and weight racks. Just before she could walk away, he started lifting those weights. Suddenly, as if pulled by some type of force field, Damara turned into a fan girl with glossy eyes and a watery mouth. He had to be the one her friends were talking up. There is no way he couldn’t be the one with how fine he is. 

“This must be your first time noticing Erik.” 

Damara turned to the lady who looked to be twice her age standing next to her.

Damara didn’t respond, she simply looked back at him through that tinted glass. He was so fucking sexy that her jaw dropped; literally. Erik was definitely the one her friends were juiced up over. Not the juice you drink, but the drip from that pussy when she hungry for a nigga as damn fine as he is. 

Erik had been bench pressing weights and she couldn’t get a good enough look at him until he lowered the weights. Yeah, when he was laid out on his back, sweaty muscles moving as he lifted 280 pounds over his head he looked good, but GOD once he stood up was she slapped with his looks.

Erik was wearing sweat shorts that dropped low around his waist, a damp sweat top and a pair of Nike Air Max Trainer 1s on his feet.

His braided back dreads were damp from the perspiration; it really set off his caramel complexion.

Erik returned his weights to their respective places and stood facing that mirror with a bottle of gatorade. Damara could really see how perfect he was. Fine wasn’t even the word, it was so much she could say about him. The look in his eyes, the way his muscles moved in conjunction with him, the smoothness of his skin, the hairstyle that compliments him very well, and let’s not forget those lips. She figured he got many compliments on his lips, as beautiful and suckable as they were. That thick erection he was sporting was an added bonus. All she could see was herself lowering onto it and rocking like crazy, like she was riding a horse. When she returned to reality from her lustful daze, she noticed her hands were flat against the glass, jaw STILL dropped, and her nipples tender and hard practically clawing at him. They were so hard that they were hurting, and the feeling of his lips pulling and sucking and licking on them would have been exactly what she needed, just pull her shirt down and suck em.

All of that talk and fantasizing in her head, ironically made his eyes meet hers. Damara swore she thought those big, dark eyes could see her and only her. The lady she ignored next to her smiled, like she knew what Damara was going through. She did, that’s why her and the others were still there.

——

Feeling a little foolish and embarrassed by her behavior, Damara asked the lady next to her if Erik could see them or was it one of those half way windows.

“Girl, he can see us alright. That’s why his dick is so big and hard poking through those shorts. He sees something he likes.” 

Damara looked back at him, and right then like a spark had been ignited, he smiled a little at her with dimples, then winked before downing the rest of his gatorade. Damara could feel her knees buckle, body so nervous. She decided it was most definitely time to bounce. That night, Damara never told her girls about seeing the living legend, but she did go back the following day, a Wednesday, to stare him down at that window again. She purposely went there alone to have him to herself. It was crazy how obsessed he became.

——

After about a week or so of admiring Erik through that glass, Damara decided to take it up a notch and use the adjoining women’s workroom; yeah, like she could actually bench press any of the equipment in there. Getting into that women’s workroom meant that she had to become a gold member. The upgrade was about 20 dollars more, which landed her to about 80 dollars a month; great.

She felt like she’d been walking the yellow brick road to the emerald city. Opening those double glass doors to her new sanctuary,  she could smell musk no longer, only fresh air and a cool breeze. The music was even better in there, sicko mode playing low through the speakers. It was approximately 7:50 pm, so she knew Erik would be arriving soon. 

At about 8:15, a little later than usual, Erik pulled open the doors and walked into the men’s workroom. He had his dreads crinkled and messy, a pair of Beats solo 3 in black with gold trim over his ears, black Nike pro training top that clung to his body like it was two sizes too small, matching black shorts that hung low on his hips with the waistband of his compression pants peeking through. He hadn’t immediately seen Damara on the other side since she was in the corner tugging on the pull ropes that she couldn’t make budge. She didn’t really know what to do. If she popped out of nowhere near that window, she could scare him to death, and he’d be mad. He looked like the no nonsense type too. 

Damara decided that hiding wouldn’t fix anything so she came out into the open to do some yin yoga poses that helped stretch her body. Sitting Indian style, she started with the butterfly, bending forward while gripping her shoes. The stretch made her moan, all the tension in her back disappearing. Next, she decided on the dragon, bringing one foot forward in a low lunge, stretching out her glutes and back again. Admiring herself, she liked the way her ass looked in the tinted mirror, and apparently so did Erik. Her heart dropped to her stomach like she’d been on the tallest roller coaster, her eyes reverting towards the ground. Damara could feel his eyes on her still as she lifted from the ground, rolling her neck. With one hand on the back of her neck to stretch the muscles, her eyes met his again. That same slight smile graced his face again, almost innocent, but those eyes were dark and sultry, like hot coal.

The heat turned down just a little, Erik walking away leaving Damara a flustered mess.

——

He started out with a little cross training. Damara watched from her workout mat in between doing crunches. Next, he pumped a little iron. She noticed how he enjoyed admiring himself when he lifted weights. The veins in his arms would bulge so much it looked like they wanted to break the surface of his skin. She could see his mouth slightly opened, concentration set in his features, and she just knew he was making those grunting, straining noises that guys make when they workout. Watching those muscles flex and bulge like that made her weak in the knees again. She liked the feeling. When he lay on his back to do the leg lifts, that’s when she lost it in a major way. The weight Damara had in her hand to do Russian twists fell down on her shoulder. She screamed out without even knowing it. All she could feel was pain beginning to throb in her left shoulder, and she laid back on the floor massaging it with a whimper. Unfortunately, at that time Erik was the last thing on her mind. When Damara got enough nerve to look at the window, Erik was pressed against it looking at her. He mouthed to her since it was sound proof, “You aight, Lil Mama?”

After Damara figured out his words, she nodded and gave him the okay symbol with a tired smile. Erik stares at her for a few seconds, scanning her frame in that PUMA workout suit she decided to wear, then moved on to the leg machine again. Damara liked the way he scouted her, and that made the pain in her shoulder go unnoticed.

——

Throughout their workouts, they would peep each other, and he liked the attention she was showering him with. There he was again with those pull-ups, directly facing her with intimidation in his eyes. Somehow, he had lost his shirt along the way, sweat pouring off his body like he’d been doing push-ups in the rain. 

Damara’s workout suit was almost see-through and hugging all her curves, and he definitely paid attention because his erection was good and hard, tenting the front of those black workout shorts like wild. Damara wanted to think it was solely her making those pants tent like that, but working the hell out of those machines may have played a role in it. She’s good, but not that good.

The more she looked at Erik, the more she wanted to taste him, feel him pressing into her throat. 

Damara looked down at her iWatch and realized it was minutes to closing time, but she couldn’t leave that room, let alone that window. She hated to leave because he was worth staying and getting caught with. Knowing the kind of man Erik was, he probably got a kick out of the chicks staring his fine ass down, then going home to his equally fine ass girl. That was the kind of luck Damara had: finding the juiciest man on the planet, but not able to land him because he was taken.

Damara suddenly had a lightbulb moment. Erik was a gold member, with a passkey to leave the gym if he ever got locked in. Damara could lie and say she lost her passkey, having to go to him to get out...or to get off! Shit, lord knows she needs that, it’s been way too long. Suddenly, Erik made a move she hadn’t been prepared for. He stepped away from the weight trainer and approached the window again. Damara couldn’t move, couldn’t muster a speech, all she could do was watch him approach her with that sweaty, perfect body. Maybe not so perfect to some because it was littered with tiny raised scars, but to her it was absolutely perfect. Man, the closer he got to her, the hotter she got. In all her orgasmic nonsense with a pussy so wet and probably creaming her panties, it soon dawned on her that he probably approached her to ask her why she’s still there; that maybe he was tired of being stared at as if he were a zoo animal. Damara got scared and backed up.

Erik backed up a bit, confusion on his face before chuckling, giving her a head to toe view of him, then he got busy. His eyes stared into hers as he massaged that massive erection up and down through his pants. Damara could feel her nectar elevating within her core. Then it hit her, he was about to give her a private sex show. Was she about to bounce? Fuck no, she stayed and watched everything that pretty nigga did.

When his erection got hard and thick within his pants, he let out a fucking dazzling smile that could make her cum right there. No man had ever smiled so wickedly at her that her panties got wet; then again, she’d never met Erik. His pecs were mouthwatering to the point of drool, contours and ripples were everywhere. All her nasty little tongue wanted to do was lick, lick from his collarbone to his abs and continue south. Her hands shook as they clutched her chest, feeling her nipples brush against her fingers. All the while, her eyes never left his.

——-

Bending to remove his shoes and socks was a chore because that delicious dick was in the way, but he managed. His fingers beckoned Damara to get closer. Damara knew he was going to slide his pants down next, the nigga was clever with his seduction. She moved back to that window, and watched him slide his shorts to his hips. His dick bounced out, sprang to life, and she dropped to her knees, wondering how all that would feel stroking her insides. He was real heavy, the type of dick where the tip and about two inches could only fit in the pussy. The type of dick where you would push him away while he blew your back out from getting too deep. The type of dick where you had to use two hands to jerk while you sucked; you really gotta be a pro to suck a dick like that with no hands, not to mention ride a dick like that.

Erik bit at his plump bottom lip, massaging it with his tongue while his hand massaged that long pole; that damn snake. The more he stroked, the bigger and bigger it became within his hand. He strokes that beautiful dick until he was about ready to nut. He mouthed at her through that sound proof glass, 

“I want that throat.”

His muscles tensed, he squeezed it harder, and playfully rubbed it against the glass directly where her mouth was. She swore she could taste him, feel him sliding it between her lips and forcing his inches into her. Erik stroked it so hard that she could see the moisture forming on his tip. Damara couldn’t help herself, she had to reach between her thighs and stroke her pussy to match his tempo. Damara pulled her suit down, revealing her drenched sports bra and panties to him. She didn’t want to waste any time the way her fingers made its way to her panties, pulling the fabric to the side to reveal her wet sticky treat. The more he stroked himself, the deeper her fingers slide into her valley; all three of them. When Erik dropped to the floor, she scrambled to see what he was going to do next. It was fucking outrageous! That pretty ass nigga got on his back and moved his hips up and down like a bitch was on top of him. Damara screamed in ecstasy over the sight of it. Her fingers went deeper and deeper like she was trying to scoop her cum out the pussy. She turned around and arched her back, rubbing at her clit with one hand while fingering herself with the other. He pumped hard and long, perspiration dripping from him, muscles tensing. Damara just knew he was going to explode on the floor instead of her which was a damn shame. No. No fucking way. He turned over on his stomach, and did push-ups, pumping those hips and dick into oblivion. He still hadn’t cum for her yet. His arm shook when he did his one-handed push-ups, dick throbbing in his other hand. She felt her orgasm building deep in her belly, her legs shaking from muscle strain and intense pleasure. That was the grand finale, watching him cream into his own hands while staring her down. 

Damara screamed out, Cumming on her fingers with a shake of her body.

——

He returned to his back and pressed out so much cum that she almost fainted from the orgasm he gave her. When her breathing returned to normal, Damara looked into her hand, now covered with so much of her own thick moisture that her fingers were sticking together. Then she glanced up at him watching her with a sweet smile on those wonderful lips—his erection was still in his hand and still harder than boulders. 

The windows were nice and steamed by the time he and Damara finished. She watched him grab the rest of his belongings and headed for the showers. Damara took off as well, figuring that was all she’d get from him. 

Damara made her way to the showers herself, letting her plan go. At least she got a good show from him so she was thankful. 

While in the shower, Damara couldn’t help but smile as she wet her body under the steamy water. She struggled to fight the urge that this was it and probably her last sex show a man would ever give her and he didn’t even touch her. Damara allowed the warm water to trickle down her aching joints and relaxed. Her body mitt delicately encircled her breasts, pretending the sultry touch was Erik’s fingers, sucking on them gently before making a tongue track down to her core. She shuddered in waves of heat. Her body trembled, spasms, taking her mind off the pain from her injured shoulder. She completely gave in to pleasure and let the most tremendous orgasm hit her like no other one had ever before...well, until Erik happened on the scene. 

Then.

“Damn, girl.”

The words came from nowhere. Damara assumed they had been in her mind. Nonetheless, her eyes opened and she twirled around to see if anyone had come in. There Erik was, standing directly in front of her. Damara tried reaching for her towel but Erik snatched it from the railing before she could get it.

His cool, seductive voice melted into her horny spirit. 

“Imagine how big this dick would be if I would have been standing right above that ass, watching you finger that pussy from the front. All I could see was that phat ass shaking and quivering to some sexual fantasy. Was it about me?” 

Damara couldn’t speak. All she could do was look down at the towel around his midsection, sporting a killer of an erection. Her mouth opened, her voice cracked. 

“I...I, uh…”

“It’s okay, babygirl. I already know that ass was thinking about me. How could you not after the show I gave you.” 

Erik moves toward her, one step away from entering the stall with her. 

“You liked that show I already know that shit. I already know I got you”— he slapped her pussy, then reached around to palm her ass roughly, smacking each ass cheek causing it to sting—“hot enough to want more, right? You should anyway since I gave you a little taste of what the fuck I got,” he pulled his towel off and entered the stall.

It was different from having that window in between them both, Damara covering her nakedness with her arms. Erik pulled them down.

“Don’t you dare cover up a fucking thing.”

The grip on her wrists were so tight her hands shook.

“So, you just walk in women’s locker rooms? What if I wasn’t the only one here?” 

He chuckles, letting her wrists go, “And? I don’t give a fuck about that. It’s okay for me to do whatever I fucking please in here.” He kisses her cheek. “I’m Erik—“

“I know who you are, Erik. Every woman within a five-city radius knows who you are.” 

“Yeah? And who might you be?”

“Damara; nothing exotic, nothing romantic, just regular old Damara.”

“Not from where I’m standing, girl. You are so fucking sexy. I bet you taste good too, I know that pussy enjoyed me pleasing you.”

“It did, I can still feel it.” She lets out a moan.

“Well then that pussy won’t mind if I please you again?”

Damara relaxed, his hands covering her breasts, much the same way they did in her daydream. He stroked the tight tips with his thumbs, then replaced them with his lips. She was right, that mouth was made to suck on some titties. Erik sucked them ferociously, licking them like they were candy. Her head reared back as he sucked like he was trying to milk her. Her back arched off that wall, his arm circling her waist and pulling her close.

“So, you want everything, huh?”

“Every single drop.”

Erik’s muscles tightened around Damara; their bodies pressed against the wall. As the water continues to drench them, he lifted her into his arms; her legs hugged his hips. She felt the tip of that delicious dick play with her opening, tease it, rub up and down on it. She faces him, staring into those delicious brown eyes of his. 

“It’s almost closing time, I couldn’t leave yet without a little taste.” 

It definitely wouldn’t be a little with how big he was. Damara prepares herself for the surprise, her pussy clenching and quivering on its own. Erik takes his fingers to caress her clit, taking a single finger to tease it with a flickering motion. Damara kept a firm grip on his neck, pressed against the shower wall. 

“I’m playing wit that clit good, huh?”

She responds with a bite to his shoulder, her pussy jerking in his hand. Erik brings his fingers to his mouth, spits on them, then brings them back to her clit. He was very generous with his spit, making her pussy extra sloppy. Clearly with him still going at it on her clit he aimed to make her cum this time with his own fingers. 

“Ok, you working my clit,” she felt him take his dick to finish it off, rubbing her clit in circles. The smoothness of the tip of his dick hit every sensitive spot on her clit. 

“Make that pussy cum,” she edged him on.

His hand came down to grip her ass while he worked, her body shuddering, legs securing around him even harder, moans echoing off of the shower walls. 

“Shit, fuck, damn…”

She could feel the sensitivity in her pussy too.

“Open up for me.”

Damara opened wider, Erik bringing his dick to her pussy. He pushed his way in slow, only by a few inches before she clamped up. Her guess was correct, he was too much to take. Damara was scared now, she didn’t know if she could go through with it.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking big,” her eyes grew wide.

“Ha, You knew that already when you saw me jerking it.” 

“I’m too tight.”

“So?” He moves his hips, teasing her walls to let him in further. Her body crunched, hand to his chest. Was she fucking a monster dick or what? His shit was too damn much.

“Chill,” her eyelids fluttered. She wouldn’t be able to stand.

“You’ve been eyeing me all fucking week, teasing me and shit and now you wanna cry about how big my dick is?” 

He kissed at her neck, causing her to moan and rub her wet face against his. She brought her hands to his biceps, squeezing them tightly. 

“Be gentle, okay? It’s too damn big.”

Erik takes that invitation, gripping her hips firm before pressing himself in inch by inch, pausing in between. Each time he entered her it felt like he was ripping her a new hole, but it felt so full in a good way. Along with the pain came a shock of pleasure. The vein on the underside of his shaft rubbed smoothly at the floor of her pussy, a new sensation she had never felt. It curves at the tip to hit her g spot, swiping it each time he moves his hips.

“I don’t think I ever had a dick this good,” she hissed the moment he fully entered her. 

“I already know you didn’t with all that crying you was doing.” He pulled out to the tip, purposely, to make her feel every inch again. Erik pushes back in, watching the way her face went through a series of confused and unprepared emotions. It was time to pick up the pace now. Erik started off slow, his strokes growing and her moans. Damara held onto the rails along the walls of the shower, watching with astonishment how Erik’s dick fucked her.

“Oh, oh, omg,” she shook tremendously, a single hand clawing at Erik’s chest. He simply fucks her with deeper strokes, reminding her what came with every inch. Clearly he had a fetish for making women cry from how big he was. That rock hard body came with a huge package. 

“Are you fucking kidding me!!!!!” She felt a rush of pressure forming in her lower belly, so big it pushes Erik’s dick out, a fountain of liquid pouring. The more she clenched, the more it flowed. Damara couldn’t control it and it shocked her. No way, this nigga made her squirt and for the first time ever. She’d always tried to make that happen for herself but it never worked so she would give up. 

That seemed to fuel Erik even more, he brought one of her legs up into a split, entering her body again. This time, he flexed his abs, bringing his dick into even more of a curve, really hitting her spot. Erik knew what he was doing, he wanted to see the reaction again.

“Come on, take this big dick,” he held her leg up even if it shook.

“Ah, fuck yes, shit it’s happening again!!” Before she could relax, here she was, squirting again but Erik stayed in. He smiled, slamming her so hard with his dick that she could feel it in her stomach. At this point, Damara might as well lose count of how many orgasms she’ll have. 

———

It was true.

Damara has missed two days of the gym for a reason. 

She couldn’t get out of the damn bed the morning after her and Erik had sex. Her pussy was sore and sensitive, inner thighs shaking when she stood from the bed. Damara didn’t bother exchanging numbers with him, unsure if she would even be able to take him up on a second chance. Deciding to be a big girl, Damara went to the gym for a dance session. 

She stood in the mirrored dance studio wearing a leotard colored bronze, a pair of sweats on and her hair in a messy bun with her vans. She skimmed through her playlist on iTunes, adjusting her AirPods to her liking.

Damara had to squat ballerina style to stretch her thigh muscles, bringing her leg up to extend the muscles of her inner thigh. Rolling her neck, she turns from the mirror, deciding to dance to a Nicki song. Once she got in the groove with the tempo, she started her routine. Her body moved like magic. The mirror wasn’t her own audience anymore, Erik was standing at the door watching her closely. He didn’t make a move, his eyes following her skillful moves along with her dangerous body, I mean, Damara was thick. Even through her loose fitted sweats he could tell. Now that Erik got a good look at her, he recognized her from Instagram.

DeetheeDancer.

She was pretty popular on social media for her dancing. Erik watched a few of her videos from time to time, loving the way she moved. She had this way of letting you know she was sexy from the look she gave in the camera when it followed her body. It was as if she was daring you to touch her, let her throw it back on you and see if you can catch it.

——-

Damara finished off to her first song, bending over with her hands on her knees to catch her breath. She paused her music, picking up her water to take a long sip. After recapping it, Damara’s eyes sweep the area, landing on the door and seeing a familiar face waving at her. 

It was him, the big dick nigga that had her on a two day hiatus. He looked to be arriving at the gym because he didn’t look worn out just fresh with a bomber jacket over top of his workout gear, beats over his ears and shades on. 

“Mind if I come in?” He mouthed.

Damara caught her breath before smiling, motioning for him to enter. He finally stepped through, dropping the duffel bag that was on his shoulder.

“Why ain’t you tell me you were a dancer? You ain’t so average.” 

“It’s kind of hard to do that when you were balls deep in me.” She mouthed tiredly.

“You talk hella bold but when I’m in there I have you running though.” He removed his shades, blessing her with his brown eyes.

“Mind if I watch? I got all day.” Erik removed his jacket.

“Fine with me,” Damara was okay with it, she had eyes on her with dancing almost all the time.

“She plugged her phone into the wall Bluetooth, settling on dancing to some pussy popping music from her freaky playlist. Yes, this was absolutely purposeful.

Right off the back, Megan Thee Stallion Freak Nasty began playing. She started off with a routine she already had to this song. She poses, hands rubbing down her frame before squatting down with a grip on her knees while swaying her hips. She did a turn, one hand in her hair with the other on her ass. Once the beat dropped, she got into the groove with a sexy hip hop routine that involved a lot of footwork and ass shaking. Her ass shook alright, like a goddamn tidal wave straight from the sea. She bounced in a circle, spreading her legs wide before landing into a perfect split that deserved tens across the board like she was a gymnast. 

Erik was impressed, and so was the huge dick that jumped happily in his compression briefs. She was clearly giving it her all, impressing him. He could fuck her ass royally with his dick, congratulate her for the little talent show. She was on the floor again, doing a perfect side split, her eyes moving from the mirror and zeroing in on his erection. She must have known that he was turned on because her eyes didn’t move from his crotch the entire time she grind, bent her body over, and twerked her ass. 

“You think that pussy can handle this dick today?”

She stops moving, hyperventilating before pausing her music.

“Nah, keep that playlist rolling, I want you to dance on this dick.”

She looked at him. He looked at her. She whispered, “okay, I admit it. You’ve got too much dick for me.” 

“Girl,” He wasn’t trying to hear that.

“I’m serious, I need to be able to move not walk like a cripple.” 

“It’s a gift,” he smiles wide.

Damara walks over to the mirrored wall, holding onto the bar before stretching her leg all the way up to her head. 

“See, you preparing yourself already.”

Erik began to approach her, Damara bent over with her head between her legs, looking from behind. She could see Erik making his way to her, the feeling in her stomach making her nervous. Damara lifts back up, grabbing a towel to wipe her neck off. Here he was now, fully enveloped in her personal space with his hands on either side of the bar, chin resting on her shoulder.

“I mean, you really got that shit up there, huh?” He was referring to her leg.

She chuckles, “Chill out, monster.”

“Monster? Hm,” Erik turns Damara around, his eyes scanning her heaving chest, “Well, it is October.” 

She smiles, licking her lips before looking at his, “You plan on scaring me again?”

Erik takes his thumb to stroke her chin, “I thought you were afraid of big, bad things?”

Damara swallows spit, eyes fluttering. She grabbed the bar on either side to brace herself.

“You ain’t know? This is my favorite time of the year.”

Damara places her hands on the back of Erik’s head, pulling him down to meet her lips. They kissed, Erik’s hand on her hips now, pulling her off and against him. The next song that played was dvsn- With me.

“C’ mon,” Erik kisses her again, their full lips in French kiss mode, “dance on me.”

Damara takes her time to work her hips into the slow beat, Erik easily matching her movements. She was impressed, turning now, dipping forward with her ass against his crotch, twirling her hips in a hypnotizing circle. Erik places one arm across her chest, his face buried in her hair, Damara turning to face him slightly while she moved her hips tantalizingly slow against him. 

“Mm,” Erik looked her frame up and down.

Damara turns, on her knees, arching back before rolling her body forward, grabbing Erik’s legs as she began to rise while her hips moved from side to side. She went to her tip toes then, one leg cleanly rising to rest on his shoulder before she arched her back, jumping up for Erik to catch her. He does, twirling her around before slowing down as the song slowed, their eyes meeting. 

“Wow,” she spoke breathlessly.

Before she could stop herself, Damara places her lips against his, Erik bringing her to the floor. Between frantic kisses, Erik undressed her, her naked sweaty body warm against his. She moans, arms around his neck. Erik takes his fingers, slipping inside to get a feel and taste.

“You taste just right,” He sucks slowly on his fingers before taking those same fingers to rub her nipples. 

“Fuck,” Damara pushes Erik down to the floor, her hands moving quickly to undress him. She needed him no matter how big he was. The sight of him again almost knocked her out. Damara grabs his dick, licking her lips before sinking her mouth over him. Erik instantly palmed the back of her head, biting his lip and saying how much of a good girl she was.

Damara sucked like her life was at stake, spit covering her hands and chest. She couldn’t fit him all in her mouth but she did her absolute best. Erik pulls her mouth off, watching the string of spit connect with her lower lip.

“Climb up, Baby girl.” Erik motions for Damara to come to him, Her legs straddling him on either side before her arms grabbed his shoulders tightly. She tried to prepare herself but the moment Erik slipped inside again she squeezed his biceps with her nails. Erik hisses, taking his hands to grab at her waist to keep her still. He started fucking up into her at an even pace, the pressure within her too much. She could feel the shit in her spine. Damara looked back at it, eyes closing in sweet pleasure before looking down at Erik’s smiling face.

“God, please keep fucking me.”

Erik grabs her ass, anchoring his hips before picking up the pace. The scream from her was so loud it bounced off the walls. 

“These walls ain’t sound proof, Baby girl.” 

She couldn’t move or control her cries. Erik was deep within her guts. Damara begged for Erik to keep going over and over, a series of please and I need more escaping her mouth.

“You gonna squirt on me like that again?” He bit his lip, raising his brows in a rude manner to initiate a response from her, “I said is that what you’re gonna do?!” 

“Yes!!!!!”

Damara snapped, squirting like he asked. Erik slaps both her ass cheeks for that.

“Good girl, I know you got more for me.”

“Yes, Erik.” 

She froze, mouth suspended open before cumming again. Within seconds?

“FUCKkkkkk.” 

“Mhm,” he fucked up into her at the same killer pace, “mhm...mhm.”

“STOP!” She cries out, the urge to cum right there.

“Stop it, I’m gonna cum again!”

“Girl, shut up and cum.” 

Erik was close himself.

“Shut that crying up and cum on this dick.”

She went silent, body trembling before cumming for a third time.

“Oh my God,” she cries.

“You gonna let me cum in that mouth, Baby girl?”

Erik bounced Damara a few more times before slipping her off, standing to his feet quickly while she stayed on her knees. Damara opened wide, waiting for his treat. He jerked his big dick, grunts deep and eyes low and dangerous. After three pumps the cream spilled, Damara’s tongue ready. He tasted so damn good. 

“All of it, I’m not playing with you.”

She grabs his dick, licking and sucking all of it off.

“Good girl,” he puckered his lips down at her, mouthing a kiss. She almost fainted.

“You gonna have them thirsty bitches mad”

Damara didn’t care.

[tenderborn]

of course part 9

[a-heart-inscribed]

Operation Eros - Part 4

Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 1810

One afternoon as you are just leaving the tower from hanging out with Steve, you hear your name and turn to find Tony chasing you down.

“Hey, hey I wanted to catch you before you took off.” He smiles as he falls into step beside you. “I was going to text you this invite but I thought maybe it would be better given in person.”

You take the envelope Tony is holding out to you and gently start to peal it open. When you read it, you know Tony can read the shock on your face because he chuckles waiting for you to respond. “Tony… I’m touched. I mean, I’m not sure why you want me there, but I don’t own a dress nice enough for this… I don’t even think I can afford one…”

He throws an arm over you shoulder to guide you off to the side of the lobby. “Not a problem darling. Pepper is going to take care of everything, your wardrobe, styling, all the good stuff. We just want you there.”

“We?”

“The whole team.” He nods and shrugs lightly, taking his arm back to stand across from you.

“The Avenger’s Benefit Gala. Tony, these invites are like super exclusive and like really coveted…” You look up to see him smirking at you. Of course, he knows that. “Why me? I’m just the local barista. Well, I mean… I’m the store manager, but still…”

“No,” He cuts off your rambling. “You’re a lot more than just the barista. Y/n, do you know how many people who aren’t on my payroll that we let have a passcode into the tower?”

You bite your lip and shrug. It was just a code into the main floor, you still had to be buzzed up to living quarters.

“Five. Including you. And the rest of those we don’t ever let up to living quarters. Meanwhile, you… you buzz FRIDAY and she lets you in.” His face gets serious as he looks you over. “Y/n, you’ve been good to this team. You’ve treated us like real people when we needed that most. Even Loki likes having you around. The Gala is a night we have to put on our best, be our best. It helps to have people around that keep us grounded too.” Reaching out he twirls some of the hair falling over your shoulder around his fingers fondly. “We want you there. All of us.”

Fighting tears, you shake your head. This was the kindest and most genuine Tony had ever been with you and it was throwing you a little. “I- I don’t know what to say.” Letting out a laugh you move forward and throw your arms around Tony’s neck. “Thank you.”

“Hey, no problem.” He hugs you back tightly. “Thank you… for the moral boost.”

Tony wasn’t kidding when he said Pepper would take care of it all. By the time the Gala arrives you have a striking gown, killer shoes, your hair and make-up done by a team, and are decked out in a necklace and earing set that costs more than you’ve made in the last five years. You feel awesome, powerful, and you can’t help but stand a little taller.

Waiting for the elevator from the level on the towere where you were taking to get ready, you hear people approaching behind you.

“Wow, Y/n. You look stunning.” Tony comes up and wraps an arm around your waist, quickly pecking you on the temple, holding you warmly to his side.. He is followed by Bucky, Natasha, Thor, and Pepper who are all looking at you as equally stunned.

“Well thank you, Mr. Iron Man. Getting out of that coffee stained uniform probably did some good.” You pat him on the chest with a smile. “And you don’t look half bad yourself.”

A myriad of complements follow as you all get on the elevator to the floor of the Gala. You know your cheeks are burning red but it’s nice to be with your friends like this and to be there to support them. The elevator has almost reached your destination when Natasha speaks up.

“You’re going to give Cap a heart attack in that dress you know.”

You run your hands over the lace covering your hips and straighten up. The dark floor length formal dress Pepper had helped you pick out was all lace with a slight v neck in the front but an open back that exposed down to just above the small of your back. It had quarter length lace see through sleeves and a sheath skirt. The matching heals gave you just few inches more height but a good boost of confidence. You felt good, but your brow furrows as you look to Natasha, processing what she meant. “What?”

Bucky laughs. “Oh, for sure. The old man’s around 100! She’s gonna knock him dead.”

“Steve?” You blink at them as the doors slide open. “We are talking about Steve Rogers, right?”

Bucky just raises and eyebrow and smirks at you as he steps off the elevator. You don’t get the chance to have them clarify as they are rushed off in the direction they will make their entrance from and you are ushered into the room with the other guests.

Honestly its magnificent. You had never been to this part of the tower before and the size of this hall is amazing, the length decorated in golds and whites. Tables line the walls and one area, there is a large bar across from the wall of windows and balcony, and an open area for dancing. It isn’t long before they start introducing the Avengers in sets. They don’t all come out at once in order to help with the crowd control. When they come out like this, they can mingle out into the party instead of being swarmed. Eventually you are located by Bruce and Natasha, both of whom have a glint in their eyes as if they are excited about something, but they introduce you to some high and up in the city that approached you just as the two had found you. He seems interested in you but you want nothing to do with that. You are so busy talking and trying to steal away with Bucky, who had just joined the group, that you miss catching a glimpse of Steve when they announce him.

To yours and Bucky’s dismay, you don’t escape the conversation that easily as some other well-off citizens have joined the group. You’re just giving a look to Bucky that gives praise to all things good that the chatty billionaires had left when your name is spoken softly from behind you.

“Steve.” You turn to look at him and your stomach flips a little at the site. His suit is amazing, perfectly fit to him, and his tie and pocket square match your dress.

“Captain!” A loud and unfamiliar male voice booms from off to your right but Steve give only one glance that way before darting his eyes back to you. Without looking away from Steve you hear Natasha address the man and lead him off, Bucky and Bruce quickly coming up with something and excusing themselves as well, taking any straggling chatty guests with them.

“Y/n, you look- wow.” The little smile that spreads across his lips and the glint in his eyes makes butterflies twirl your stomach and tighten your chest. “You look… fantastic.”

That familiar heat is in your cheeks again. “Thank you, Steve. You look very handsome as well. That color is gorgeous on you.” You’re pleased at the red tint that spreads over his ears.

He clears his throat and moves closer. “Thank you for coming. It means a lot to the team to have people here we actually like.”

The chuckle that comes out is almost involuntary and Steve joins you, realizing what he said. “Thank you, Captain. It’s honestly my pleasure, and an honor.”

Before either of you get the chance to say anything else Natasha saunters up to you while Bucky approaches Steve. Natasha says nothing but moves you closer to Steve, pats your shoulder and leans in to you ear, “Watch your back at these things. Stay close to those you trust, just in case.” She slinks away as you watch Bucky lean in and say something lowly in Steve’s ear.

You don’t hear what he says but when Steve rolls his eyes and looks exasperated, Bucky punches him on the arm and clearly says, “Just do it, man,” before he too walks off.

Quirking a brow at Steve, you don’t mind the proximity the other two had moved you into. “What was that?”

Steve sighs and his ears go pink again. “Those two just being… well, themselves.” He looks away for a moment, scanning the crowd, then he looks back to you with a small and almost shy smile. “Would you like to dance?”

You nod in response with a smile and take the hand he offered quickly. Before you know it, he has maneuvered you out amongst the other dancing couples and pulled you close as a new, slow song started. One of his hands holds yours and the other rests in the small of your back, the heat from where his hand brushes the bare skin of your exposed back spreads through you, and you know you flush.

Steve is a good dancer, no matter how many times he tries to tell you otherwise, leading you in slow circles and holding you close. Your heart is beating fast and you tune out the people around you that you know are watching. “You look beautiful, Y/n.”

Even with heals on he is a good deal taller than you, so you have to smile up at him. “Well Captain, I do declare, I believe you said that already.” You mock and wink up at him.

He laughs softly at your feigned Southern accent. “I think I did, you’re right. But your hair down like this is nice. You normally wear it up for the coffee shop.”

“Oh, you noticed. Thank you.”

“Of course.” He twirled you around and pulled you back in. “So, how do you like the party?”

You pass the evening pleasantly, talking with all the team, meeting some of the people who are big givers to some of the charities this Gala supports. You dance with Thor, Clint, and Bruce once, twice with Tony and to your surprise and delight Loki, who is an excellent dancer, three and a half times with Bucky, and five times with Steve. Pepper, Natasha, Wanda, and Gamora make sure you have a drink or two with them and you mingle throughout the night with the rest of the team.  You aren’t surprised that you have an amazing night at the Avenger Gala.

Tag List:

@georgialeighc13  @denzmallows

[crowgreeds]

       No one ever enters his office without Kaz's direct say-so — except for Inej of course but often he was aware of her presence there before he even saw her. But it couldn't possibly be Inej in their office now, they had just seen her at the crow club, disappearing over the rooftops in the complete opposite direction of The Slat, to carry out the task that he had handed to her. She wasn't due to be back anytime soon and regardless there is hardly any way he could mistake the much taller, broader figure that now stood in the middle of the room for her anyway.

     Kaz reacts purely upon instinct — rather than stopping to ask who this person clad in strange-looking clothes is they shift their grip upon their cane and lash out with all the force they can muster. The end of their cane strikes true against the stranger's shoulder but other than a slight twist to his expression and a careful step taken back, the person gives no indication of having felt much pain. There was no sound of cracking bone either, despite Kaz *seeing* and *feeling* the cane connect directly with his shoulder plate. Instead, a thick, greyish smoke rises from the point of contact as if Kaz had just taken open flame to the other boy rather than just his cane.

       The stranger raises his hands in the air, but Kaz doesn't stop there, following his retreat backward, keeping his cane raised, and pointing at his chest with the promise to strike again should he make one false move. "Who the hell are you?" He near hisses out, his eyes narrowed at him dangerously. "And why the hell are you in my office?"

THE OFFICE ISN'T quite a right, proper office -- the desk isn't exactly a desk, either; instead, a door sits on top of a stack of crates. charles has to give credit where credit's due, he supposes. it's one way to make a desk when you don't have ready access to one.

that doesn't matter right now, though. what matters is that this man - a stranger in black, like a thick blot of shadow - had entered the room and swung immediately. charles sort of wishes that this jordie lad had given him more information on the man they'd sent to help out with: mostly the fact that maybe this man would be able to see him immediately, and that his cane was tipped with iron at the edge.

charles fights to keep the grimace off his face. his shoulder burns where the hit had landed. pain's easy to forget when it doesn't happen to you often. here and now, with ghost smoke rising from where the blow connected, charles wishes iron wasn't quite such a stinger for edwin and him both. he takes a careful step backward, hands held high as if surrendering. " easy, mate. no need to go swinging all that around again. " / @crowgreeds liked for a starter from CHARLES.

[blazc-ignitixn]

Verses

V. Like A Phoenix Burning Bright [Pro Hero Verse]

Main Verse, takes place during My Hero Academia. 

Known as the Blaze Hero: Ignition, Touya is 25-year-old and head of his own Hero Agency, dubbed 'The Hellfire Club'. Rumor has it that he might soon be included among the Top Ten Heroes. He keeps in touch with Fuyumi and Natsuo and visits his mother from time to time, but while he longs to reconnect with Shouto as well, he feels guilty for abandoning him years prior.

V. Strike A Match And Set This Dump Ablaze [Hero Student Verse]

Past Verse, takes place about 8 years before My Hero Academia.

Touya is 17-year-old and a third year Hero Department student at U.A. High School. Snarky, rebellious, on the cynic side and not not easy to befriend, he's nonetheless a good student and a loyal and supportive friend if you manage to befriend him and gain his trust (it won't save you from being snarked at though).

V. Out Of The Darkness And Into The Sun [Hero Sidekick Verse]

Middle Verse, takes place between Past Verse and Main Verse. Touya is 18-20.

After leaving his family residence, never to come back, Touya isn't gonna sit idly and waste his life, so he rolls up his sleeves and starts working as a sidekick for various Hero Agencies, determined to one day start his own Agency and become a Hero worth of the name.

V. Bound By Fire; Bound In Flames [Young Verse]

Touya is a snarky 14-year-old teenager who would do anything to protect his mother and younger siblings, even provoke his violent father to divert his attention from them. Touya is strong, he can make it.

V. When Everything Burns [Twins AU]

An AU in which Touya (here named Ryouta) and Dabi (played by another Dabi/Touya Todoroki muse) are identical twins born with identical Quirks. Touya still goes on to become the villain Dabi while Ryouta still become the Pro Hero Ignition (and possibly a mole for the heroes in the League of Villains to save his brother).

More details here.

V. A Shot In The Dark [Quirkless AU]

AU in which Touya was born Quirkless. He never went to UA, of course, but still studied hard and became a police officer who often cooperates with heroes.

He's a little rough around the edges, stoic and cynical, naturally mistrustful towards heroes (although he'll still cooperates with them if required) unless they show themselves not just interested in rankings and publicity (in which case he'll gladly cooperate with them even without prompting).

[fthartwin]

Day #4, Matching Soulmate Markings

Finals: *Are happening*

Me:

Harry Hart is a man of a different future. Not in the Back to the Future, science fiction sort of way, mind. He has no memory of the world he belonged in, which is both a blessing and a shame.

On his arm, same as everyone, is a dark circle. It's a seedling, one that is supposed to sprout in childhood and grow until you meet the person with the matching flora. Harry Hart marks his thirtieth birthday by getting well smashed and covering the dead thing with a tattoo of Kingsman's logo. It's not very creative, but he doesn't much care.

They say those whose seeds never sprout are the victims of changing times, of the fallibility of destiny. Harry Hart doesn't believe in destiny.

So of course, that's the year the damn thing sprouts, and he's not surprised at all by what it blooms into.

Eggsy's grown up with watercolor blue roses on his skin. It was a source of wonder in elementary school to those who had nothing but seeds or little green sprouts. Eggsy walked into kindergarten with two roses in full bloom that his t-shirt didn't cover, and all they did with time was spread.  

He'd have looked them up if people didn't insist on telling him all about them, all the time.

So yeah, Eggsy knows the symbolism. Royalty, nobility, love at first sight, an immortalized romance. And the roses are fucking everywhere by high school, winding up from his wrist to his shoulder and spilling over onto his chest so the furthest one rests over his heart, so it's safe to say he's gonna be disgustingly gone on his soul mate in a disgustingly short time and proceed to never recover.

Which is just perfect, because if there's one constant in Eggsy's life, it's disappointment, and nobody will let him forget it. Unattainable. That's the real tragedy of the blue rose. They don't exist in nature. They can be dreamed of and yearned after, but not even science has managed to create one.

Eggsy's perfect love is going to be completely out of his reach.

When he meets Harry Hart, his fist thought is that he looks right unattainable.

Probably the hardest thing to shake about being from the wrong side of the tracks is that he's prone to accept defeat before he tries. Not for everything, but personal battles are lost before they start sometimes. So he doesn't ask Harry about his mark, doesn't show his own (except once in the barracks, that first night before their tracksuits came in, when he took off his shirt and Roxy, Digby, Amelia, everyone, stared), and generally decides to live with reality as he's been taught it will be.

Until he sees it.

It's the morning of the final test, and he finds Harry in the kitchen cooking breakfast. Whatever it is, it's made of eggs and smells amazing. But once he gets past the hazy warmth that floods his chest when he sees Harry framed by the soft glow of the morning sun, he catches sight of the other things being lit by it and nearly chokes on his own heart.

Watercolor blue, matching Eggsy's, winds its way up Harry's left forearm before disappearing under his rolled-up sleeve at the elbow. He's hard pressed to say he's ever seen a more agonizingly beautiful sight. Harry's his, then. It's not like he didn't know already, but having it writ so boldly is a whole different feeling.

"Eggsy?"

He blinks and realizes he's been staring dumbstruck while Harry had been talking.

"Huh?" he tears his eyes away to see that Harry's raised his eyebrows at him.

"Breakfast is nearly ready." Harry says, like it's not the first time he's done so.

"Oh. Thanks." Harry takes him in for a moment before glancing down at his hands like he's not sure what had so ensnared Eggsy's attention. Then he huffs and goes back to cooking.

"Ah. Quite striking, isn't it?"

"Sorry. Didn't mean to stare." Eggsy mumbles.

"It's alright. They're rather uncommon."

Well, if it's alright, Eggsy thinks, and goes right back to staring. It's not like he doesn't know every sharp line and splotch of color, but he wants to memorize the way they look on Harry's skin. At his wrist, where Eggsy assumes the thing started growing, is a gold tattoo of the Kingsman logo. Harry starts plating the food and talking at the same time.

"It sprouted when I was thirty," he says, and of course it did. Eggsy was born in '91 with a seed that waited a whole thirty seconds to crack open "I'd gotten rather drunk earlier in the year, thinking it wasn't going to sprout, and got a tattoo to cover the seed."

A dead seed. Eggsy's always known about his soul mate, but Harry's the opposite. He waited thirty years for Eggsy to show up, only to get the worst possible bloom. The moment hangs, and he almost yanks his sleeve up just to try and blot out the years where Harry must have thought he was alone. But he doesn't, because he's selfish and can't bear the thought that the rose's meaning, Eggsy's own personal prophecy, will come true.

Suddenly he feels sympathetic to those sods who always spouted off about the meanings of blue roses when he was growing up. What on earth do you say to someone who looks that wistful about their mark?

"It's real gorgeous though, yeah?" he blurts out instead of all the platitudes clambering for his attention in his head.

Harry falters a bit.

"Yes. I suppose it is."

And then Harry goes and dies, and Eggsy's never been angrier at himself for assuming he was unattainable because of their social status or age or Eggsy's failure.

His roses are blue because Harry dies before he gets the courage to say anything.

Blue roses, Eggsy finds, are just about the best mark to have for honey pot missions. Unattainable, his mark says, ironically making him the most temporarily attainable person in the room. Merlin gets a good look at it after V-day and Eggsy tells him to keep his fucking mouth shut, thanks, before he gets so much as a word out. Roxy doesn't know who it is - or was, because she was never that close with Harry.

So life goes on and he tries not to lament the fact that yeah, Harry fucking ruined him for anyone else like Eggsy always knew he would.

His life is all explosions and split-second world-alterations, which is good for him, he supposes. It keeps his mind off things.

But it means that the next time he sees Harry isn't at his funeral (empty casket, as the shit show that was the world in the days after V-day had seen hundreds of thousands of corpses burned to prevent the spread of disease).

The next time he sees Harry bloody Hart is through a security camera on a megalomaniac's fuckin' blimp.

His trashing of the whole place was apparently the distraction a certain prisoner needed to break out and wreck the left half of the ship while Eggsy fought his way to the control room. Eggsy freezes where he stands, which quickly drives Merlin to distraction. But he can't really be blamed - the cameras are so clear, showing Harry as he tears through the place like some kind of walking grenade. He's in plain clothes, no doubt they'd taken his suit at some point, fighting with his bare hands and whatever the mooks drop as he goes. Like a bandage or a scar, a blue rose - the same that had bloomed so suddenly on Eggsy - sits elegantly over his eyebrow.

"Fuck me." He breathes.

The plan is no longer viable. Eggsy'd been about to crash the blimp into the alps below and jump out with the one parachute he'd brought along.

"Merlin, we need a new plan."

"What-why?!"

That's when Eggsy realizes one of the bullets had grazed the camera in his glasses.

"Because-"

And then Harry, the madman, gets his hands on a gun and shoots a hole in the blimp. Eggsy's pretty sure blimps aren't supposed to unzip the way he can see it does on another of the monitors, so they must have been some spectacular bullets. Either that or the Germans learned absolutely nothing from the Hindenburg.

"Fucking - the blimp's going down right this bloody second. How do I get to - " he studies the corridor Harry's in for anything to hint at an exact location "Port side, by the engine room."

"Galahad, there's no time. You have to get out of there."

"Merlin, you can help me or I can try to get there myself with much worse odds of survival."

Merlin curses, but Eggsy hears the rapid ticks of his fingers across keys a second later.

"Go out the door and turn left. I'll direct you."

It's a damn near thing. The sharp angles of the mountain peaks are starting to look rather big when he starts to hear a struggle up ahead. He sees Harry seconds later, by the rent gash in the blimp's side struggling with the black-clad main muscle of the week.

"Harry! He shouts, and Merlin swears a blue streak in his ear.

"You've got about a thousand feet to impact, and you'd better believe that blimps fall a lot faster than people. Get out of there!" he says, more agitated even than during the Lancelot trial.

Which is exactly what Eggsy does, because the muscle fucking trips and both him and Harry topple out the side of the blimp.

The struggle doesn't last too long in the air since Harry's the only one of the two equipped to put aside the fact that he's plummeting to his death and keep fighting. Then he's falling alone, Eggsy terrifyingly far above him.

Their eyes lock. Harry's widen, and Eggsy sees his lips form his name. Eggsy drifts closer as the ground comes up to meet them, both reaching, and Harry's eyes get stuck on the rose on Eggsy's forehead.

"Eggsy, pull your shoot!" Merlin shouts.

It's like they're floating rather than falling, a hair out of reach as the wind whips past in a deafening roar.

Unattainable.

Fuck that.

Eggsy pulls out his gun and empties the clip behind him. It's enough to let him grab Harry from the air and drag him close enough to hang on when Harry pulls his shoot.

Their landing is not easy, but it's softened by the snow. Which is fucking freezing on Eggsy's skin, good god, but he doesn't care as he sits up from where he's landed on Harry and tries to find a way to touch all of him at once.

"Fuck, Harry, how-"

But Harry's hand comes to rest on the side of his face and he stops. Harry's thumb traces the edge of the rose on his forehead.

"You knew." Harry says by way of greeting. He sounds a bit flat in contrast to his reverent touch.

Eggsy makes a strangled noise in his throat and grabs Harry's face in his hands.

"You know what these mean, Harry. I didn't think you'd want me, for fucks sake. I ain't so vain that I can't see who's reaching here."

Harry looks so blindingly frustrated that Eggsy almost laughs at him. The blimp has made contact with the mountain range, a deafening sound of bending metal and displaced helium no doubt a precursor to fire.

"Had I been aware," Harry grits out, like he's going to have a lot to say about this when they aren't freezing their balls off in the snow "It would have looked quite the same from my perspective."

And then his hand slips down to cup the back of Eggsy's neck and draw him in for a kiss.

It's fucking spectacular, the way Harry kisses him like he wants to convince Eggsy of his position on the matter with his lips and teeth alone. They make quite a picture, Eggsy supposes, kissing on the snowy mountainside while the blimp explodes in a wave of welcome heat behind them. 

"Extraction is twenty minutes out." Merlin says as they break apart, frazzled as he's ever heard "I expect a full report, Galahads."

[crowgreeds]

@crowshoots ummmm hi :)

“I believe you. But do you think it’s just that easy to drop something like that when so much damage was caused because of it?” It comes tumbling out before Kaz can stop it. A vicious slash, the bared teeth of a cornered animal except.... what is he trying to defend himself from really? In this room where it is just them and Jesper? Can it truly be called defense or is it self-destruction?

Maybe they just shouldn’t have bothered trying.

The silence stretches on far too long for even Kaz to call comfortable and yet he remains where he is, tensed in the doorway. He should say something, he needs to say something, and yet he doesn’t know what that is. “I said I needed you,” they begin finally. “I meant that. But if you don’t think that’s worth anything anymore then tell me that and I’ll leave.”

[crowgreeds]

@crowshoots said - ❝ the smirks, the jokes…it’s all a defense mechanism. ❞

Jesper's words are enough to break Kaz's concentration, looking up from the massive piles of paperwork with a confused frown. They have been hanging out in their office, Kaz attending his work and Jes chilling out in a chair nearby. It's a well-established routine and one that Kaz has grown to find quite a bit of comfort in.

But the atmosphere between them feels... different tonight. He hadn't been paying full attention to the conversation until now but Jesper looks troubled by something, playing and tapping with their fingers and looking like they might bolt any second. It occurs to him a second later why -- because she is sharing with him a shred of vulnerability Jes would rather remain buried and unseen.

He purses his lips, unsure what exactly to say in such a scenario but knowing that remaining silent is probably the worst thing that they can do. "Defense mechanism from what? What is it you are hiding from?" They fall silent for a moment more. "Whatever it is... you aren't alone-- you know that right?"

[crowgreeds]

@noblehcart asked: "Have you eaten anything?" (inej)

"Hm?" It is a childish act, to pretend like they hadn't heard her speak when in fact they most certainly did. One might not expect as much from the Bastard of the Barrel but Inej is talented at pulling at his threads, unraveling him, and tugging out what is boyish and young that had been lost and buried.

He doesn't look up immediately, finishing the line that he had been on before finally setting the pen aside and turning their dark gaze upon her. She's got that little frustrated wrinkle to her brow, the one she seems to uniquely get when dealing with them and they are being especially obstinate. It's amusing to try and pull it out from her on purpose sometimes.

"What did you say again? I didn't quite catch it."

[crowgreeds]

@aigonakru thread cont'd from X

They can see it before Wylan even speaks a word, the cracks that herald that he is about to give in and accept the request put forth. His pleasure at the sight doesn't show on his face, that would likely only make the boy bristle. Instead tucked away neatly behind the closed doors of his expression. Really he could go to any number of other demolitionists for the job, but Wylan is the best and although Kaz might never admit it to anyone including himself, he trusts the merchling in front of him far more than a lot of the other barrel rats available.

"That depends entirely upon you." He answers simply, flicking his fingers so that the slip of paper seemingly disappears. It's not gone but rather it now takes up residence in Wylan's front shirt pocket. "And the results that you produce. Is that agreeable enough with you or do you plan to hm and haw about it?"

[crowgreeds]

    The shift happens within the span of a single moment. Kaz walks into a grimy little bar just off of the canal in the barrel, blinks, and then suddenly the scent of stale ale and sweat is gone. The bar is *gone* replaced by something polished and far too clean to belong to this part of Ketterdam.

       The person that stands behind that bar is also unfamiliar to them and though they smile at them pleasantly, Kaz can't help but to squint at them with open suspicion - the look of an animal prepared to bite at a moment's notice. Although he moves to approach the bar, they do not move to touch the strange liquid that is set out before them.

     "How do you know that name?" He nearly hisses, stopping in his tracks immediately and tightening his grip upon his cane. No one should know that name anymore, no one, so how then did this person happen upon it? "Who the hell are you?"

" KAZZIUS RIETVELD. " the glasses clink together as morana - lean, angular, waiting in the short slot of space between bar top and the bottles set out behind them, looking a bit like a shadow - sets two on the table. both shot glasses are filled with what looks like liquid silver. kaz will know that this is not the bar that he had walked into. still, morana smiles as if they were meant to meet.

" or... i apologize. you prefer another name nowadays, yes? sit and drink with me, kaz brekker? " / @crowgreeds liked for a starter from MORANA.

[crowgreeds]

@stygicniron​ liked for a one-liner!

     “Listen— it isn’t pleasant but if you are going to stay in the Barrel then you need to know how to use a knife. Properly. If you can’t handle it then you are in the wrong place.”

[crowgreeds]

@huntershowl​ liked for a one-liner!

     “I know that you are following me, Se— Hellhound. Unless you want to get caught up in this mess then I suggest you go away.”

[crowgreeds]

@mkoshi​ liked for a starter!

"A word of warning—" They don't seem to look up as they speak despite their words being obviously directed at her. To one that is not aware he would appear to be focused on the numbers on the papers rather than the Fjerdan girl perched nearby. But there is clear tension in his frame, a seriousness to his tone that could not be denied. "There is apparently a delegation of druskelle visiting the Fjerdan embassy, to make sure everything is in working order so they say but I think we both know what they are really here for." Now finally his eyes flick upwards. "So I suggest staying off the streets for awhile if you don't want to make a surprise trip home."