#this one is a tad short but alas i been a busy boy recently

[raineandsky]

#22

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)

“How on earth did you get in?”

There is a teenager standing on the other side of the villain’s desk, seemingly uncaring to the fact that he’s somehow broken into his private office without issue. He just gives the villain an innocent smile.

“The windows aren’t really… guarded,” is all he says, and the villain makes note to double to security. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“Clearly,” he snaps back, hoping his sharp tone will hide his concern. How did a kid get in – and if he can, have goddamn heroes gotten in under his radar?

“I wanna apply. Here,” the teenager tries, practically radiating nerves when the villain’s gaze turns incredulous. “To work.”

“To wo–” He huffs a disbelieving laugh. “Are you old enough to work?”

“I’m sixteen.”

The villain barely believes that. He doesn’t look a day over twelve. “Sorry, why would I hire a teenager?”

“I have two good reasons. I can show you the first one.” The child raises his hands, aiming just past the villain’s head, and a moment later a shot of lightning shoots from his palms. The volts sting against the side of the villain’s head as it passes to crumple just behind him with remarkable violence. He spins in his chair to stare at the wide dinge now decorating his once pristine white wall with poorly contained shock.

“The second thing. I, uh…” the teenager’s confidence falters, his gaze dropping nervously to his feet as the villain twists back to look at him. “I was in the agency.”

The villain raises his eyebrows amusedly. “And you think that makes me… want to hire you?”

“I hate them,” he blurts, as if the words needed to come out. “I used to be [Hero]’s sidekick, but she treated me like shit and everyone else acted like I was stupid.” He finally raises his head again to meet the other’s eye. “I want to get them back. I have inside information.”

“That’s one hell of an offer,” the villain says slowly, and the kid nods enthusiastically. “You sure you want to throw your lot with the bad guys?”

“I wanted to throw my lot in with the bad guys when [Hero] almost drowned me in an agency toilet for a joke,” he says sourly, and the villain pulls a face of pure disgust. “And… I heard you guys have social nights sometimes.”

“You’re sixteen. You don’t get alcohol,” he reminds him, before clearing his throat to put on his business voice. “Okay, well, you could be valuable. I don’t trust you–”

“That’s fair.”

“– so you’ll stay in this building under close watch until I decide you’re not going to stab me in the back. In the meantime, I’ll make sure no one tries to drown you in a toilet. It’ll at least be in a sanitised bucket. Okay?”

The kid smiles brightly, and the villain can’t help but wonder what kind of future he would’ve had with the agency. “Thank you so much, sir. I won’t let you down.”

The villain waves him off nonchalantly, dipping his head back to the work on his desk to mask his own victorious smirk. “Don’t thank me yet. Save it for when we both get what we want.”

(Part 2)

[cupcakey00]

It’s Just Instinct

Here’s to my first one-shot, everyone! (edit: it’s actually not a one-shot since there will be another part or 2 lol oops) In which Cassian struggles to adjust to the overwhelming instincts to protect Nesta.

 Words: 2,325

there is some NSFW content in this.

Nesta could count on both hands the number of times she had to intervene to stop a murder where Cassian was involved, especially since they’d mated just one month prior. The first time had been only two days into their mating frenzy. Lord Devlon may have been many things, but a fool was not one of them.

Or so he thought.

Unbeknownst to the pair, the camp lord in doing his rounds managed to hear the throes of their passion, and made the decision to send a young female to deliver war reports to Cassian as opposed to their usual male. Unbeknownst to Devlon, Cassian had recently discovered Nesta’s attraction males and females. Suffice to say, it was only Nesta’s iron grip on his bicep and pushing on his chest while screaming for the Illyrian to “leave! You have to go!” that stopped him from tearing the poor young female to shreds at just the scent of her outside their door as she slid reports through the gap. After all, their Commander was busy, but so were their enemies.

Unsurprisingly, Devlon was unimpressed.

The second time came when Azriel had visited during the third day of their mating, unannounced, hoping to visit his friend and discuss the Illyrian rebels. Unfortunately for Azriel, his personal vow never to spy on his family finally became his crux. At the sound of Azriel’s feet touching ground from outside the cabin door, Cassian’s eyes dilated, his muscles tensed, and his breath hitched. Nesta knew what was coming next, although this time, she couldn’t stop it. Not when Cassian was still strung up from the female’s visit the prior day, and most certainly not when he was interrupted with his head between Nesta’s legs.

Azriel realized immediately his mistake the moment he landed, but he knew he could not simply leave. He knew that would only make it worse. Worst case scenario, Cassian would pursue him for days during his frenzy if he deemed Azriel enough of a threat, so long as the threat of being away from Nesta for long didn’t outweigh the perceived threat to Nesta; he had seen the look in his eyes long before Nesta and Cassian were mated. He saw the thirst for blood at any male – and, recently, female – who so much as looked at Nesta a few moments too long. Whether it was in protection or possession, Azriel didn’t know. He didn’t think Cassian did either. Granted, he always kept a leash on himself for Nesta’s sake and his own. It wasn’t fair to Nesta to be treated like an object, especially not one that he owned. That, Cassian knew. Thus, Azriel stayed. He waited, deciding that staying silent, allowing for Cassian to make the first move, would allow for his brother to calm down, register him not as a threat, but as a friend who meant no harm nor claim to his mate.

Surprisingly, Azriel, too, was a fool.

In Cassian’s cloudy, newly mated mind, the Night Court’s spy and Shadowsinger’s silence and stillness confirmed one thing and one thing alone: he was there to lust over the sound of his Nesta crying out in ecstasy, a hymn promised to Cassian and Cassian alone. Nesta had just reached the point of unintelligibility, unable to articulate a single word or thought with Cassian’s mouth feasting on her dripping center after teasing the bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs with his tongue and breath for what had to have been hours, bringing Nesta to near tears, begging Cassian for more, begging him to let her come. For a cruel amount of time, Cassian would not relent, tracing and blowing; sucking oh so near it, never on it, telling her about how “you’re so pretty when you’re begging me to let you come, Sweetheart. You’re going to have to wait for that.” He was never merciful enough to tell her how long she had to wait. (The only reason he had the self-control to delay it was because of how thoroughly he fucked her the previous two days.)

Nesta had been close, no longer able to make a single sound except for gasps and high-pitched whimpers with her back arched off their dining room table, one hand gripping Cassian’s dark hair at the root as his hands kept her legs spread wide open, forcing her hips down, forbidding her from grinding on his face, while her other hand gripped the tablecloth. With her back arched, he couldn’t see her face, so he watched Nesta’s pert nipples instead, still red and raw from his previous ministrations, lips around one nipple sucking, tongue flicking, teeth biting, while his fingers twisted and tugged at the other, alternating whenever he felt like it. The red was mostly faded.

He’d have to fix that.

Cassian knew that while the denial for release was torture for Nesta for the time being, her orgasm by the end couldn’t possibly be anything short of mind-shattering. He sent a prayer to whatever gods were listening that he’d be able to feel her walls clench around his tongue fucking her, nose rubbing against her clit. He could only hope she wouldn’t squeeze so tight around him that his tongue was forced out of her pretty pink hole while her walls contracted; he couldn’t let any of her sacred nectar go to waste on their dining room table.

He’d lick it up right off the wood, maintaining eye contact with Nesta if he had to.

The other part of him, the more primal, male part of him, craved the satisfaction of making his mate come so devastatingly he wouldn’t be able to keep his tongue inside, tip of his tongue massaging her G-spot through her release. He hadn’t dared come close to it yet; he knew that’d put an end to their fun. Everyone knew the journey was more important than the destination.

Truly, considering this was the trajectory they were on, it was no wonder Cassian would have brutalized Azriel’s body so badly, Rhysand would have had to rethink who assumed the role of the Night Court’s torturer.

Would have, had Azriel not been forced to use a Siphon-imposed shield around himself, infuriating Cassian even further. Not only had this male heard his lover’s euphoric cries, but he couldn’t even kill him for it, and it was his fault Nesta wasn’t only dripping onto the table instead of his face, she was also needy with the desire to reach the orgasm she had earned. This male thought he could arrive at their doorstep and put a halt to his lover’s pleasure? Unforgiveable.

Azriel wasn’t safe until Rhysand, who then also became the subject of Cassian’s hunt (the third in 24 hours), used his magic to force Cassian back into the cabin and established a shield around it, confining him while allowing Azriel’s shadows to bring him back to Velaris with Nesta screaming for Cassian the entire time – never once leaving the inside; Cassian’s brothers seeing Nesta in such a near-orgasmic state, even if she did put clothes on first, was a sure-fire way for him to level all of Illyria to eliminate them both. This, Nesta knew.

Through their open bond, he could feel what Nesta felt. Had she been in danger, Cassian wouldn’t have been able to ignore her pleas even if he wanted to. Hell, had Cassian been able to think a tad more clearly, he’d have strapped on his Siphons to put more concentrated pressure against Rhysand’s barrier. But alas, there he was, stark-naked body limning with unbridled power, using his magic until it was drained, not a Siphon in sight, snarling near animalistically.

After that ordeal, the message became clear: no one was to come in contact with the Commander or his mate until they left their cabin unless of an emergency. Rhysand imposed a no-go zone of a half-mile radius around their cabin to be kept at all times until indicated otherwise by the Commander himself. It took two weeks until the pair could leave the cabin without fear of murder, although that didn’t stop an incident from popping up almost every day since, especially since Cassian was convinced most of the camp either wanted to kill Nesta or fuck her. Still, Cassian tried. He tried to rein it in, and Nesta could see that. She knew he took no joy in threatening the lives of his fellow Illyrians, no matter how much they hated him. He had to learn to control himself, and learning he was. However, everyone knows that when learning, mistakes are bound to be made.

That was what brought them here, a crowd of wide-eyed Illyrians with bated breath, gazing at the four in fear: Cassian, Nesta, and a young male who’d been training with an older Illyrian.

Nesta placed a hand firmly on his chest, assuring, “Cass, I’m okay,” as Cassian’s eyes and stance guaranteed violence, twin blades in either hand. His eyes held nearly none of their characteristically striking hazel, instead swallowed by the black abyss of a predator salivating for a hunt. The scent of the blood trickling from the cut on her upper arm was suffocating him. He couldn’t breathe, his body wouldn’t let him. Not when he was so close to his prize: the young male’s blood bathing his blades. Breathing would only alert his prey to his presence, chancing he’d run.

Then again, Cassian wanted a chase.

Still, Cassian would not move. Instincts begged him kill, maul, maim, but his less animalistic side implored him to drop his weapons and help his mate, to be rational and think clearly.

Still, Cassian could not move. Could not attack the enemy for fear of leaving Nesta unattended, nor drop his weapons for fear of leaving her vulnerable to another attack, never mind that he could wipe out every male, female, and child in the camp with his bare hands if he desired.

Nesta, sensing his inner conflict, whispered sweetly to Cassian, “Cassian, Love, I’m safe. I’m healthy, I am happy. I’m okay. You don’t need to do this, you know this.” Facing him, her right hand gripped his shoulder, her left, resting on his abdomen, applying pressure to his body knew she could not remove if she wanted the boy to live. Still, it wasn’t enough for him to break eye contact with the young Illyrian. Slowly, she slid her hand from his abdomen up to his heart, feeling the melodic thump, thump, thump that always grounded her, whether she was facing a nightmare or the much more nefarious demons of her conscious mind.

Still gripping his shoulder, she removed her hand from his chest and pressed her body against his, reaching down in search of his fingers. Immediately his grip softened from his weapon, seeking the warmth and comfort of Nesta’s embrace above all else. Gripping his hand gently, she took a step back. At this, Cassian’s eyes snapped down in alarm until she placed his hand over her beating heart, hand atop his, unblinking as she watched the bloodlust drain from his gaze as he peered into her own, his eyes a telescope gazing upon the stars within the vast edges of the universe people deigned to refer to simply as Nesta’s eyes. Cassian knew he could spend the rest of his immortal life studying them and still he’d have more to learn. Nesta would let him.

In his heart, Cassian knew she could take care of herself, that it was an honest accident. The boy was still learning how to hold a sword, it wasn’t his fault he had it parried out of his grip, especially when it was Nesta who hadn’t realized she wasn’t the compulsory 15 meters away from the fighting pair; she’d been busy running back and forth bringing ice to the healers. Truly, if fault had to be blamed, Nesta laid claim to most of it.

Not that it mattered to Cassian, of course.

In his eyes were terror, veiled thinly only by the stubborn rage. In them, she discerned all his fears…his regrets that he couldn’t save Nesta from the Cauldron. She saw the same look in his eyes he had when they almost died together during the war, and finally she understood. She understood why he’d been so protective. That not only did he struggle with believing he wasn’t enough for his people, but for his own mate too. For the love of his life, his whole world. For his sole reason for living for the past 500 years, the present, and the eternal future. Her gaze was piercing, imploring, begging him to forgive himself, begging him to have mercy on himself, but he couldn’t. Not yet. Not yet had he proven himself worthy of his mate, nor might he ever.

At this, Nesta was the one to feel fear. Not at Cassian, but for him; a life of regrets and guilt is not a life at all, especially for an immortal.

From his shoulder she removed her remaining hand, gently grasping his own, the second twin blade dropping into the mud, and placed his large palm over her cheek, using it to cradle her face. She smiled sadly, tears threatening to spill over as she nestled her cheek into his palm, feeling the rough callouses she wished she could engrave onto her soul so that she’d never be without them.

Those tears? Cassian hated them. Each one that threatened to fall was yet another one of his failures, an indication of Nesta’s pain. Pain that he caused in his own inadequacy. He could never forgive himself.

This wasn’t a conversation they could have in front of a crowd, so she whispered, just barely audible, “take me home,” and instantly, he pulled her body flush against his and flew to the cottage that became the both of theirs, everyone else be damned.

One day, Cassian will learn. Just not today.

 ________________

There will be a part 2, maybe a part 3!! I hope you enjoyed :)

tag: @arinbelle

[xwhatevergot7stuffx]

After Practice

Hello, everyone! Welcome to my first GOT7 scenario. First up, will be Mark Tuan! I was recently inspired by the rap and songwriter himself when he was requested to choose where he'd bring aghase for a date. It was between the park or JYP's practice room and he wound up choosing the practice room. This decision sparked some interesting fantasies that I could not help but write. This was also requested so I totally must write it. Haha! Well, sit back, relax (if you can), and hopefully enjoy the scenario. Peace!

Warning: Smut, fingering, coarse language.

--

It was sometime after midnight and you were observing GOT7 practicing real hard for their next stage performances. You watched with deep interest as their moves were perfected further during each run-through. There was no doubt they would move the audiences with their extraordinary talents. They were truly amazing. The reason you were here was because of your lover Mark Tuan. There he was dancing alongside the members and absolutely killing it. You did your best to view them equally, but naturally, your eyes were mainly drawn to him. With the busy schedules this comeback was piling upon them, as well as the fact he was going away to New Zealand, this was one of the only ways you could spend time with him. You greatly appreciated the company for allowing your attendance and you were great at keeping confidential information right here.  Even though today was supposed an outdoor date, you were grateful to be here. You were not bummed in the slightest for who else had the privilege of gawking at seven gorgeous men dominating their dance routines in their rawest state?

Eventually, their leader called it a day--or night rather, sending the boys off to cool themselves down and change in order to leave for their dorm. Each one of them smiled kindly at you as they passed through the doors while Mark stayed behind. While most of them left silently panting, BamBam and Jackson still had the energy to chat with you a bit. Jackson went on about how awesome Mark was and even went into detail by mentioning he was working extra hard whenever you were here.

"I saw the way you were looking at him," BamBam teased and he teased you further by saying, "He's hot all over, you should totally help him out." He nudged your arm and you caught his mischievous wink. Embarrassed, you playfully punched his arm in return. Unable to contain his excitement, Jackson squealed over how adorable you were acting alerting Mark. He briefly turned in your direction and your muscles tensed a little then seconds later, a charming smile appeared on his face. Had he heard the embarrassing conversation?

"___," he started. "I'm going to practice a little longer. I hope you don't mind." Blinded by his expression, you had missed when Mark quickly blinked at his rap team.

"Not at all. I'll be here cheering you on," you responded, smiling right back at him.

"Ahh!" Jackson once again cried out, his hands shaking with joy. Bam smirked then patted his buddy's shoulder.  

"I think that's our cue," he whispered and Jackson nodded. The two boys snickered then regarded you before leaving through the door. "We'll let the others know you'll be coming home later," BamBam lastly issued to the oldest and they saw him signal that he understood then they left.

This wasn't exactly your first time being in the dance room alone with Mark but it was never after practice hours. You didn't mind, though. It was nice knowing you'd get more time with him. As usual, you took over controlling the music and rooted for him as he danced. He was perfect, hot and all yours to enjoy.

...

"Babe, can you pass me my towel?" Your lovely boyfriend asked once he finished the final move in the “Never Ever” choreography. Without responding, you grabbed a fresh towel that was lying on a bench and tossed it his way. He turned just in time to grab the cloth in one hand then chuckled. "You literally passed it. You could have given it by hand." He pulled off his hood then began to pat down his damp hair with the rag.

"Oh! You're done now?"

"Yep," he smirked then it formed into a thin line. "I'm sorry to have you wait for me like this."

"No no!" You started, quickly shaking your head as you rose from your seat. "It's nice to see you in your element. It was fun watching you practice."

"Haha! It's just sucky that there was no other way to hang with you except at work."

"Mark, I could watch you practice every single day if I could. Trust me, I had a good time." You were telling the truth.

"That's good. I'm happy when you're happy." Your eyes suddenly widened when he removed his hoodie and tossed it over a chair. "Ah!" He sounded in relief when the cool air enveloped him. He was in a white fitted shirt with black sleeves and a pair of black jogging pants. He was clearly hot underneath the hoodie because you could see the sweat spots on his shirt. He threw his head back then forward before shaking his head to rid of the accumulating dew in his locks then ran the towel over his head again. You couldn't help but swallow at the sight before you and before you realized you were already walking over to him.

"I-I wasn't too much of a d-distraction was I?" You spoke with a slight stutter in your voice. Confused, he glanced at you then shook his head.

"No way. To be honest, it felt nice having you cheer me on," he responded, a shade of rose tinting his cheeks a tad. He observed as you made your way over and proceeded to pat his crown. You could tell he used the towel as an excuse to hide his blush and you giggled. Your boyfriend was absolutely adorable. You were about to squish him into hug until he changed the tone of his voice. "But you know..." The tone had you freeze in your steps. "Even though you weren't throwing me off of practice, it doesn't mean I haven't noticed you."

"Huh? What do you mean?" He quickly licked his lips, a habit of his that made your mind go crazy. The things you did with that tongue and would do if he wasn't careful. He smirked then dragged the rag down to his neck to tend to it next and once again you gulped.

"There's that look again."

"W-what look?" You tensed and hastily broke eye contact to stare at your reflection in the mirror behind him then glanced away. The short distance between you was filled when he swiftly stood directly in front of you.

"___," he called, the octave in his voice descending. "Look at me." There was the call that made you weak in the knees. Reflexively, you realigned your vision and peered directly up at him. There stood Mark, tall and handsome with a seductive grin on his face. Butterflies came alive in your stomach as he stepped in even closer, though you hardly noticed for you were caught in his hypnotic stare. "If you want this," he began, his face leaning in toward yours. He licked his lips again before finishing his sentence with, "All you have to do is ask."

His dark eyes lowered and your heart rate ultimately picked up. Unable to make a sound, you stood still as his lips ghosted over yours. Within close proximities, you were able to take in his after practice scent which was surprisingly alluring. You could also feel the heat from his workout emanating from his body, creating a cocoon around you, and alas, his breath prickling your lips itching to fully claim them. You began to relax, eyelids matching his just as his hands held your waist.

"Do you want this, babe?" He whispered. You then realized he was waiting for you to actually ask. The words were still stuck in your throat, but you managed a soft nod and opened your mouth in order to mouth the word "yes." He made his move before you could even finish. You jolted when his full lips fell upon yours deeply then your eyes closed entirely. The kiss was slow and sensual having you relax in his hold. He had made sure to make you get the taste you've been craving for the past few hours. Your arms crawled around his torso and the kiss deepened right after the moment you had to breathe.

There were no words passed in between kisses and there was no need. The actions alone were enough to make you both go wild. Mark pulled back in order to tilt his head the other way, aiming to access at a better angle. Enveloped deeply into the kiss, you hadn't realized you were gradually moving backward. The movement was so subtle it took you a moment to sense there was a hard surface behind you. Pulling away, his eyes twinkled as you smiled up at him. "Mark..."

He nodded then peppered your cheeks with kisses and moved back to your mouth. Twice he tugged your bottom lip delicately then you emulated the action, but also made it your own by faintly sucking on his making him feel hotter. He broke the kiss and returned with a more powerful one sending your mind into a frenzy. You gasped when you felt his tongue pushing up against yours. His tongue. You wanted his tongue so badly. Eager to have it, you opened wider and uttered a moan as he explored your oral cavity. Your fingertips lightly clawed his back and you heard him chuckle when he broke away to breathe.

"You really wanted this, didn't you?" Not in the mood to answer his cheeky reply, you guided him back into the steamy exchange, this time taking the lead. You could feel him smirking as your appendage dug around his trap eagerly demonstrating how badly it wanted to possess his. He couldn't help but let out a groan himself and it excited you. It was always a pleasure to know you could get him to react this way but soon your position was thwarted when his hand came up to your cheek in order reclaim the lead. You weren't going to let him have it that easy, however, so the exchange became more salacious as you swapped spit with your lover. Threads of drool appeared every time you parted for air and an audible slosh sounded when your mouths collided for more. You could literally kiss for hours, that's how addictive he was and clearly, he felt the same way.

You both loudly gasped and panted, his forehead pressed up against yours allowing the two of you a moment to steady your oxygen levels. He held your cheeks with both hands and you gently grasped his wrists. Even though the trip would be short, you would miss him dearly.

"Mark... I love you... so much..."

"I know... I love you... too...,___." He kissed your lips again then the corner of your mouth, then your jaw line, gradually making his way lower and lower until he reached your neck. You tilted your head the opposite side in order to expose more of your skin knowing what was to come. You relaxed further when his soft lips pecked each spot tenderly as if you were a delicate jasmine flower. The moment was sweet. He sure knew how to make you feel special, wanted, needed. Coincidently, at needed, his kisses remained in one area an area you both knew too well. The pressure on your throat increased every time his lips returned. He was taking his precious time dining upon you and you were enjoying every second of it.

"Ugh," you sounded when he finally began to lightly suck. The tempo was driving you mad, you could sense your neither region acting up and did your best to stay steady. Although, you didn't know how long you could manage to stand on your feet. You gripped him tighter when his teeth nipped your skin followed by a flash of his hot tongue gliding over the spot. "Mark... plea--" Your mouth fell open wide when he suddenly bit harder and held it for a moment before lapping away at the mark. He lifted his head and rested his cheek against yours and whispered into your ear.

"Marked." Boy, did you want to tap him for that pun, but at the moment, you were feeling too needy and groaned heavily. Dammit! The condoms were back in the car. It's not like you imagined actually being in this predicament inside their dance room. He chuckled then moved his hand down to the side of your leg, rubbing on the exposed muscle.

"What if... someone comes in..." You heaved when his hand snaked their way up your leg and under the fabric of your bottoms.

"Don't worry about it..." he replied, his lips finding yours again. "It's just you and me now..." His kiss was coming in hot and heavy and you matched his speed. "You're on fire here..." he teased, reaching your middle and squeezing your inner thigh. You didn't respond with words but your expressions said it all. "You really want me, babe?"

"Ah!" You reacted when he began to rub the cloth shielding your womanhood. You then bit your lip in an attempt to bury your verbal responses.  

"You didn't answer," he snickered, rubbing harder.

"Yes. Fuck!" You uttered wanting him to scratch the itch you had.

"That was loud. Haha!" Frustrated, you gripped his wrist firmly begging for him to continue. He obliged and slid his finger on the other side of the seam. "So wet."

"Mmm..." Once his finger dipped inside your core, he focused on your face for any sign of discomfort. All you did was gasp and buckle, but nothing concerning and to that he smirked darkly and continued to massage your inner walls. You rolled your hips begging for more insertion. Your wish was granted when a second finger squeezed through making you squeal.

Mark automatically glanced at the door then to you and accelerated his speed and precision.

"Oh God!" You wanted to fall but his body held you held up. His fingers curled then circled then curled again making your body quiver in his wake. Your head fell on his shoulder as he fingered you effectively. You showed your appreciation by nibbling on his shoulder blade and he stiffened. That was a bad idea because his next move made you cry out again. “Fuck!” 

The two digits were creating a scissor-like movement and the action was quick. You could feel the pit in your stomach winding up. Geez! You certainly were in need of him. He worked faster and harder while his thumb flicked your engorged clit having you throw your head back in shock. You had forgotten where you were exactly, so your head hit the wall, but the sensations you were feeling down below subdued the ache. Quickly you bucked and writhed in his hold until finally, you came loose.

"Ahh--" your cries were muffled by his mouth covering yours. While he was certain that little to no one was even near the dance room, he was still on guard. His hand being milked by your essences continued to work you out of your orgasm while he was kissing you fervently.  His tongue returned to tangle with yours and you became like putty in his arms. Once you were coming down from your high, he kissed you slower then eventually backed off letting you breathe. Feeling weak, your body went slack but he was there to cradle you.

"Has your desire been fulfilled, love?" He asked, stroking your head. You hummed into his chest then sighed.

"But now I'm soaked and I have nothing to change into."

"Haha! That's true. My bad," he chortled then kissed your forehead.

"This was great and all but Mark," you began, giving him a peck on his cheek. "There's one part of you I was looking forward to." You boldly cupped the bulge in his pants and rubbed it. There was clearly an issue you had to take care of. He hissed then found the means to respond.

"I know, but we can't... Not right now. Let's wait until we have something to protect us."

"You mean what we have in the car?" His eyes widened when he remembered thus a grin spread across his charming face.

"Shall we dance then?" You nodded eagerly. The two of you hastily got to your feet, collected your belongings, and then dashed out of the dance hall. Mark reappeared to quickly shut off the lights leaving the practice room in a calming darkness.