warnings: sex pollen, non-consensual drug use, mild sexual content
additional notes: i’ve had this scenario in my head for the longest, and reading some similar fics inspired me to finally write it all down! big thank you to @stand-back-up-again for helping me out with this one! i’m so thankful for your love and support. this is longer than my usual fics, about 4500 words long. also s/o to anyone who gets the nightshade reference UvU in this one the reader (fem) is a pyrokinetic mercenary who teams up with deadpool a lot. enjoy!
Wade liked working with you. It meant he got to spend even more time with you. It meant he got to see you in your element, kicking ass and taking names. You always looked hot when you were tossing bad guys around like ragdolls—literally and figuratively. Even though you couldn’t fly, you put the Human Torch to shame. Watching you fight, surrounded in flame, was always a treat for the eyes.
And so was following you through underground tunnels, a venture which offered him a lovely view of your ass. Even in low lighting, crawling on all fours highlighted some of the curves Wade rarely got to watch so closely.
“Ya know,” Wade grunted, narrowly avoiding placing his hand in a puddle, “this isn’t so bad. Ass to mouth. Like a sexy human centipede.”
“I will sew your mouth shut.”
“Ha! You don’t know how to sew.”
“You’re right.” You stopped, and in a flash, your leg whipped out to kick him in the cheek. “So it’ll hurt like hell.”
“Please refrain from shooting her, we need her for later.”
“You look like an open autopsy.”
“That’s french for ‘go away’.“
“You know, I would help, but making fun of you is so much more satisfying.”
“No, you silly goose, it’s magic!”
“Put me down!”
“How much did someone pay you to wear that?!”
“What did you just do?!”
“Stop filming me, moron!”
“It was all me, by the way.”
“Look at this, ACTION ROLL! They’ll never see it coming!”
“You know ‘give me a warning’ means let me know BEFORE they come in here!”
“I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not.”
“I may have mildly panicked…”
“Ooo, that must’ve hurt!”
“I am very, very bad under pressure!”
“Shut up, it’s fine, just chill, we’re fine, I’m fine, everything is cool, everything is good! We’re chill, nothing is happening and I am not freaking out, not at all, we’re FINE.””
“Now, not to be forward, but I love you.”
“I’m 72 different flavors of done with you.”
“Hey, on the ground there it says you’re a gullible shit.”
“It’s do or die, most likely die.”
“No it’s ‘Protect and Serve’ not ‘Get Rekt and Swerve’.”
“You make me smile.”
“Liam Neeson would do it.”
“Jail can’t stop me.”
“It’s four o'clock, don’t you think you should fuck off?”
“I remain confused.”
“As the wise Scooby Doo said; “Ruh Roh”.”
“I don’t know about you guys, but I feel fabulous.”
“Can someone shoot him?”
“Well this isn’t at all like High School Musical.“
“Quick, blend in!”
“At the moment, it seemed like a good plan, obviously it was not.”
“Well obviously nothing is going on here!”
“Can I help you?”
“Don’t be intimidated by my bloody and battered figure.”
“Is your name Bob? You look like a Bob.”
“KILL ME! KILL ME IN THE EYES!”
“Well that was unsettling.”
“Don’t judge me, but I may have murdered someone.”
“Why is there a picture of Steve Buscemi in your bathroom?!”
“My budget is 5 dollars, what are your recommendations?”
Things had gone fairly close to plan, Steve thought. They’d gotten in and out of their latest HYDRA base in what he thought might be record time. Bucky seemed to be doing well. Ash was more or less in one piece, although there was an unusual amount of white powder all over her head and shoulders. Even Tony seemed to be enjoying the silence of the quinjet.
Ash crossed her legs. Kai snickered. Steve gave a long look at the telepath, who merely raised a hand to cover their mouth and looked away. He narrowed his eyes and thought pointedly at them. They merely moved to sit between Bucky and Ash before scrolling through their phone.
Ash narrowed her eyes at the wall. She gave a sniffle, uncrossed her legs, and promptly recrossed them. Steve was giving her a funny look now, as if she were acting out of character, but she thought she was doing a damn good job.
Bucky frowned each time Ash wriggled. At first she merely seemed to scooch one way or another until he found that she’d pressed up along his body completely. When she couldn’t get any closer that way, she almost started inching up his lap. Kai had broken them up without a word, just an amused smile. Bucky gave them a questioning look.
You, they merely said, will be thanking me later. He thought he smelled smoke.
She was honestly doing her best here, Ash thought. Honestly, it wasn’t like she’d wanted it to be this way, but Bucky was smelling really good, all things considered, and felt even better. He’d barely even broken a sweat earlier, and the blue of his eyes were doing unspeakable things to her. Kai grew visibly uncomfortable, but refused to move. Ash thought harder at them. She thought, for a brief second, that a flush had risen up the telepath’s cheeks. Maybe it was the light—they thought harder. Kai focused on their phone.
She could make it through the ride back, Ash thought. She could most definitely wait that long until she was alone with Bucky. She’d waited this long, after all. Steve continued to stare at her.
“What’s that powder you’ve got all over you?” he finally asked. “Someone throw you into a wall?” Kai laughed.
“No, it’s not dust from the walls,” they said. Ash was merely thankful she didn’t have to answer and could focus on keeping her hands to herself. “She—” the telepath cracked up. “—she punched this sack and it exploded in her face.” Ash grabbed their thigh and allowed her hand to heat up. Kai yelped before swatting it away.
“Keep ya paws to yerself,” they hissed, rubbing at the offended area. Also that is definitely too hot for what you’re planning on doing. Ash huffed and crossed her arms. The rest of the ride was silent save for her constant fidgeting.
She had been patient, Ash thought. Remarkably patient, all things considered. She, Ash thought to herself, ought to be rewarded. Handsomely. Kai booked it as soon as the jet landed.
“What’s up with them?” Bucky asked. A wave of warmth flooded her at the sound of his voice.
“No idea,” she replied. Bucky faced her slowly. Ash didn’t normally do this—her little voice thing that made him want to lead her to his bedroom. She looped her arms through his.
“What’s gotten into you?” he whispered, walking down the hall. Ash laughed.
“I know what’s getting into me,” she replied. Bucky stiffened but continued walking.
“Why don’t you take a shower and cool off?” Ash, too-shy-to kiss-in-public-for-a-week Ash, blushes-at-the-slightest-praise Ash, did not act like this. Slowly, Bucky put two and two together.
“Take one with me,” she replied. Bucky gave a tense smile.
“There’s no room for two, doll,” he said smoothly. “Take one and I’ll be in as soon as you want me.” Ash’s pupils visibly widened.
“No shower—” she said slowly, a hand creeping up his side. “Right now.” Bucky blinked. Ash lunged—he ran.
“Babe, I really think you should just take a shower and let yourself think about this for a minute,” he said, vaulting over a couch. Ash bulldozed her way through without a thought.
“I’ve thought about this for the entire plane ride,” she said between gasps for breath, hot on his heels. “I deserve a reward.” Bucky ran faster.
“Do you really want our first time together—” Buck blushed but continued running. “—to be like this?”
Ash’s hair was smoking as she unleashed an affirmative yell. This was really not ideal, he thought, it slightly cruder terms. The two of them had agreed to hold off on this aspect of their relationship until they were both ready, and Bucky didn’t think this really constituted as being ready.
Desperate times, he thought grimly, called for desperate measures. He would make a deal with the godforsaken devil and hoped help would arrive before he tired. Ash almost caught the hem of his shirt in an unnatural burst of speed. Buck didn’t think he’d ever run so fast in his life.
The devil appeared to be freshly showered, having walked into the hallway of Ash’s room with dripping hair and a towel slung low across their hips. Bucky was grateful for the oversized shirt that definitely wasn’t theirs. Kai leaned against the wall. Ash’s footsteps slowed and halted.
“Where did he go?” Ash demanded, hands on her hips, stalking toward the telepath. Kai inclined their head toward the door to her room. “He was just here, Kai.”
Kai laughed. Bucky looked bewildered. Ash was definitely looking straight through him, like he didn’t exist. “And I can assure you,” they said smoothly. “He is most definitely in your room waiting for you.”
“I was just chasing him, Malakai.” The telepath didn’t flinch at the threat heavy in her voice.
“Don’t think about it too hard.” Bucky flinched at the suggestion in their voice. “Why don’t you go inside and see for yourself?” Ash’s eyes seemed to temporarily glaze over before clearing up.
“If he’s not there, I’m going after you.” Kai gave an amused smile. The door closed behind the pyrokinetic with a heavy sound. She didn’t reappear.
Kai walked down the hall. “I heard that devil thing by the way,” they said, heading for the stairs. Bucky trailed after them, throwing glances at the door as if it might open.
“Yeah?” he said. “I guess I should apologize since you did me a solid—” Kai dismissed it with a wave.
“Nah, you got that part right,” they said, ripping off their towel to reveal shorts. Bucky frowned in confusion. “So it should come as no surprise that you owe me your soul now.”
Bucky frowned. “Excuse me?” Kai turned and stared at Bucky unblinkingly.
“I am literally orchestrating sex between your girlfriend and an imaginary you, James Barnes,” they said in a flat, emotionless voice. “This is more than ‘doing you a solid’.” Bucky flushed. Kai flinched and paled. “I think I just saved your damn life.”
“Excuse me?” he repeated, this time his eyes widening.
“I’m learning a lot of things I never wanted to know,” they said, still unblinking. “And if it weren’t for me, you might be a lump of coal right about now.” They turned. “See you tomorrow.” Bucky remained frozen in the hallway.
It was terrifyingly silent when Bucky got up in the morning. The television was off. Kai stared into a mug of too-light coffee as if contained all the mysteries of the universe. Steve was nowhere to be seen.
“Where’s—”
“He’s sleeping,” Kai said robotically. Hell had officially frozen over. Bucky grimaced.
“Ash?”
“She passed out an hour ago.” Bucky flinched. The pair remained silent as they waited for the sun to start rising, each drinking from a mug of too-hot coffee and pretending it wasn’t awkward.
Ash woke up slowly. She patted the side of the bed, searching for the warmth of Bucky’s body, to find the sheets cool. Ash opened one brown eye. Nobody was there. She opened the other one just to confirm she wasn’t hallucinating.
She should take a shower, she thought. Take some time to wonder what had happened. Maybe get herself tested to see if she’d hallucinated.
She entered the common room slowly, a yawn spilling from her lips as she shuffled for the freezer where the waffles were held. “Long night?” Ash jumped. Kai was staring out the window. They turned to face her slowly.
“Um, I guess you could say that,” she said, heat rising to her cheeks. Kai nodded solemnly.
“You almost killed your man a couple times there,” they said. Ash felt hair all across her body rise at the look in their eyes—as if they knew what had happened last night. “It’s a good thing I kept him in one piece for you. I don’t think you’d like him on fire. He’d smell awful.” Ash blinked. She frowned. She thought back—she didn’t remember much between chasing Bucky and tumbling into bed with him.
Kai gave a slow, entertained smile. Ash’s hair caught flame in an instant. “You!” She pointed, eyes wide. Kai’s smile widened.
“Me?”
“You did that thing!” Kai covered their mouth with one hand.
“What thing?”
Ash narrowed her eyes. “At least I didn’t burn my playmate to the verge of ashes,” they said, sipping coffee. The pyrokinetic felt the blood drain from her face.
“Oh my god,” she said.
“Please don’t use that phrase again,” Kai said. “I heard it enough last night.” Torn between rage and mortification, Ash merely caught fire again. “You should eat breakfast.”
She shuffled over to the fridge slowly. “Rough night?” Tony asked, walking in. “I’m pretty sore from yesterday.” Kai sipped more coffee and eyed Ash. She kept herself from smoking.
“Just a lot of tossing and turning,” Ash said as fluidly as she could. Kai tried not to choke on their coffee and walked out of earshot as quickly as they could.
“What’s gotten into them?” Ash flushed and remained silent.
“Late night, early morning,” Bucky said as he walked in. “Just doing some work.” Ash and Bucky made eye contact and promptly looked away from each other. Tony frowned.
“What were they working on? Cap normally does the paperwork.” Bucky cleared his throat.
“Some personal stuff. I think they were doing a favor for a friend or something,” he said. Ash kept looking through the fridge even though she knew the waffles were definitely in the freezer.
“I’ll just ask them about it,” Tony said.
“Don’t.” Ash and Bucky said in equally panicked tones. Tony narrowed his eyes suspiciously and grinned.
“Oh dear,” Ash whispered.
“Oh dear indeed,” Tony said. He promptly swaggered out of the room toward where Kai sat. Bucky chased after him in a panic.
This was going to be a long day, Ash thought to herself.
Indeed. Kai added. She shot the telepath a glare. Kai merely grinned.
You stepped on the scale. You stepped off. Your toes scrunched the soft fabric of the rug beneath your feet before you stepped on once more. A short pause, a long, tired sigh, and you stepped away, turn off the lights, and slowly wandered out the door. The number hadn’t changed.
Bucky was the first to notice your mood had shifted toward something a little darker than the norm. You picked at your lunch—he’d gotten Chinese, knowing it was your favorite on Thursdays—but you lacked the usual joy at seeing chow mein. He frowned and chewed thoughtfully on an eggroll.
As your day progressed, your mood seemed only to darken. You lacked focus during training—you missed more often that you hit, but damn, the force from each blow forced Bucky a step back. He wondered if the problem was him.
Steve tried to make conversation with you over dinner. You heard him, yes, but you couldn’t really listen. Strings of words looped about your ears, but none of them truly sunk in, and none of them really meant anything to you. You picked at your salad and wondered how people ate so much leafy green when all you really wanted was the steak at the end of the table. Bucky frowned.
As you changed into your pajamas—a loose, soft shirt and shorts—a knock sounded at the door. You frowned, tilting your head ever so slightly, before speaking. “Who’s there?” For a moment, all you heard was silence. You prepared to return to your usual routine.
“It’s me,” came Bucky’s voice. You paused yet again. “Can I come in?” Your hands reached for the door before you even know you were moving.
“What’s up?” you asked, blocking most of the entryway. You’d rather be alone tonight. Bucky pursed his lips slightly, visibly took a deep breath, and spoke before he could change his mind.
“Did I do something wrong? Did we do something?” You blinked, surprised, before frowning.
“No?” Bucky crossed his arms.
“Then what’s with this whole routine? You’ve been ignoring us for most of the day, except to spar, and even then you won’t talk to us.” You scowled.
“Excuse me?” Bucky ran a hand through long hair.
“You’re not acting like yourself. Is something wrong?” You froze, eyes wide, lips slightly parted as though to divulge what had been harassing you all day. Your face then crumpled, the tears you’d hidden throughout the day spilling over as if by invitation. Bucky instantly panicked, rushing forward to embrace you and close the door, leading you to the bed. “I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to—” You shook your head, pressing your face into the warmth of his chest as strong arms wrapped around you.
“It’s not you—” you began. “It’s not anyone’s fault but mine and—” At the threat of your throat closing, you decided to stop speaking.
“What happened?” A hand rubbed small circles into your back. “You can tell me.”
“I went to the doctor today,” you began, pausing slightly to collect yourself. “And I know it’s not really that big a deal but—” A deep, sad sigh. “He told me that I’m overweight—and I know that maybe I’m not slim, I’ve got curves, but—the way he said it, like I’m unhealthy—like I should be ashamed—”
Bucky pressed his lips against yours for a soft kiss. “Babe,” he said. “Has that been bothering you all day? Is that was this is about?” You nodded hesitantly.
“I know that there’s nothing wrong with me as I am,” you said, wiping your cheeks of tears. “And I know that I’m pretty healthy. Just the way that he said it—” Bucky’s lips turned down in a scowl.
“You’re amazing,” he said. “You’re strong, and beautiful, and you light up a room when you walk in. Sometimes literally.” You laughed weakly. “Who cares about some dumb number on a scale? You’re happy, right? You’re healthy. You could probably kick the doc’s ass and he wouldn’t know what hit ‘im.” Bucky’s thumbs caressed your cheeks. “You are more than just some number on a scale, or some stupid weird index that, frankly, doesn’t even take everything into account. You’re amazing and I am so, so proud of you. I love you.”
You flushed. “I love you, too…”
Bucky’s eyes darkened. “Now let me show you how much.”
It hit you once, like a ton of bricks, in the middle of your workout. A slight wheeze escaped you, your squat deepening past what you had been prepared to do, before you straightened. You finished the set, downed some painkillers, and moved on to your next task.
Again, you thought balefully, as you dodged a dart. Your hair smoldered before the smoke was extinguished. You wondered if four hours had passed yet.
Dinner left you with no appetite—how were you supposed to eat when your stomach was churning and your gut was dead set on stabbing itself? You poked and prodded at your potatoes before excusing yourself. Your teammates gave your back lingering stares. You ignored the murmurs.
You’d dimmed the lights in your room to a low, soft glow that was easy on the eyes. Your shower, although successful in washing away most of the day’s stresses, did nothing for your back or stomach. Your painkillers weren’t quite cutting it.
As you laid back, eyes tracing imaginary figures on the ceiling, a pillow between your legs, behind your back, the door creaked open softly. Baby blue eyes, clouded with concern, traced your figure. “Hey,” came your favorite voice.
“Hey yourself,” you replied fluidly. The door creaked again as it slid closed. “What brings you here, Steve?” Your captain gave a troubled smile.
“Well,” he said quietly. “I could name a few things.” You raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t eat dinner—and you’ve looked pretty, I dunno—” You waited as Steve collected his thoughts. “You looked uncomfortable? Like you pulled something, and you’ve been pretty grumpy all day.” Your temper threatened to flare, but you battered it down with deep breaths. Steve wasn’t wrong, per se.
“Yeah,” you said. “I’m not really hungry.” Steve made his way over toward your bed, sinking down onto it, bedsprings groaning in protest.
“Are you okay?” Steve asked. “Do you want to talk about it?” You pursed your lips for a moment.
“Cramps.” Steve blinked.
“What?” You cheeks flushed, darkening in the low light.
“Cramps,” you repeated. “I’m having cramps.” Steve paused. “You know, muscle con—”
“I think I know what cramps are,” Steve said smoothly. He remained quiet for a minute. “Lay on your stomach.” You narrowed your eyes suspiciously, but did as he said. “I’m gonna lift your shirt up. Is that okay?” You paused before nodding. Large hands exposed the warm skin of your lower back to cooler air.
“Steve, what are you doin—” Your voice fell into a low groan as firm fingers pressed into the muscle along your spine. A gasp escaped you. Steve’s fingers and palms masterfully attempted to manipulate your muscles, pressing in just the right spots to encourage the tense fibers to release.
Honestly, you thought, this was probably the best thing that had happened to you all day. All week, maybe. Perhaps even all month. “Am I doing okay?” In your voiceless bliss, you merely nodded. Steve smiled slowly.
Upon occasion, his fingers would begin to glide toward the front of your torso, realizing that the ache in your back had been mostly soothed, but your stomach remained a problem. You allowed him to flip you over carefully.
“Whatcha doin’ now?” you asked, watching Steve’s hands settle onto the soft skin of your stomach. Blue eyes glittered warmly at you.
“Well, your stomach hurts, too, right?” You nodded. “So let’s see if I can make it feel any better.” Your lips quirked to one side. A slight adjustment of your hips, and you gave the super soldier an affirming nod.
“Go for it.” Steve didn’t need any further suggestion. His hands kneaded your stomach carefully, searching for segments that were tighter, harder than the rest, and slowly rubbed the tension away with even, slow, gentle pressure. You closed your eyes.
Steve’s hands were rough—his palms and fingers had callouses from all the fights he’d been in, but you found them to be comforting. As you mapped the progress of his hands, you remained oblivious to the soft look that crossed over Steve’s face. He watched your expressions for any sign of discomfort, any desire for him to stop, to leave, but found none. The scowl that had burdened your features earlier had melted away.
He didn’t notice it right away. His hands were still searching, seeking, desiring to eliminate that which pained you. Your slow, even breaths, the gentle rise and fall of your chest, no longer gave any indication of discomfort. Your muscles had all relaxed, fallen into a cloud of sleep and remained there. Steve drew away as he noted you no longer responded to his touch. A slow smile crossed his face again.
Steve stood, adjusting his clothes before gingerly replacing your shirt, and placed a kiss on your forehead. “Night,” he said quietly. He let himself out, silently. There was some work to be done before he could return to your side again.
As you walked into the kitchen, forehead slick with sweat from you workout, you felt it again. The stare that burned holes through you—and yet whenever you turned to confront it, you found nobody behind you. Your lips twisted downward, but you remained silent. You’d figure it out.
“Something wrong?” Steve asked, face still grinning from the joke you’d told. You flashed a smile.
“I thought I felt someone watching me,” you said. “But I guess it was nothing.” He poured a glass of orange juice before offering some. You declined.
“Well, it’s just us and Buck, so I don’t know who it could be,” Steve stated matter of factly. He turned toward the living room. “Whatcha watchin’ Buck?”
“Something about penguins marching,” Bucky replied, not turning around.
“March of the Penguins?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. Bucky gave a shrug. You frowned before grabbing a glass of water. “It’s supposed to be a pretty good documentary,” you continued. “Plus God voices it.”
“God?” You winked at Steve.
“Yes,” you said. “God himself.” The countertop dug into your back slightly as you leaned against it, taking slow sips. Steve stayed long enough to finish his glass and wash it before making his exit. Apparently he had actual work to do. You were pretty sure he was just going to take a nap.
With soft steps, you made your way toward Bucky, sinking into the softness of the couch. “Enjoying yourself?” you asked, noting the blank stare directed at the TV.
“What’s it to you?” he replied coolly. You blinked, frowned, and crossed your arms.
“Pardon me for asking,” you said. “Didn’t realize I was being a bother.” Bucky stiffened and shifted away from you. Your frown deepened.
You waited for a few minutes, watching to see if Bucky would say what was bothering him, but came up with nothing. “I’ll go bother someone else,” you muttered. You stood up and left. Bucky’s stare drilled holes into your back.
Dinner was awkward. Dinner, actually, you corrected, was beyond awkward. Bucky changed his customary seat beside you to be closer toward the end of the table. Everyone else danced around toward new seats, landing Steve next to you. Bucky had sent the two of you a well-hidden glare.
You’d tried several times to start a conversation, but if you talked to Steve, Bucky glared, and if you tried to talk to Bucky, he engrossed himself elsewhere. “Don’t mind the negative Nancy,” Steve half-whispered to you. “He’s probably upset over that penguin thing.”
You laughed despite yourself, a smile widening across your face as you leaned back in your chair. “Oh my god,” you said. “There’s no way that’s true.” Steve gave you a wink. When you looked toward Bucky again, his seat was empty. Somehow the room felt a little colder.
“Is it just me,” you asked quietly. “Or is Bucky acting different from usual?” Sam gave you an owlish stare across the table before tilting his head in the direction of the hallway. You frowned and turned toward where Kai sat, staring down the hall.
What did he say? You sent them. Kai blinked. You nodded toward Sam. The telepath gave him a slight frown before sighing.
Go do what you have to, they said. Sam’s gonna cover. You confusion only slightly diminished, Kai elaborated. Babe, you gotta go see what’s up with your man. Wide eyes had Sam shaking his head slightly. Kai covered a smile as you excused yourself and left.
You found Bucky in his room, head in his hands, barely on his bed. The lights were dim, partly because he’d failed to turn on most of them, and further complicated by the shirt he’d tossed over a bedside lamp. His arm gleamed dully in the low light. “Bucky?” you called quietly.
Bucky’s head snapped upright instantly, the look on his face a mixture of displeasure and relief.
“Oh,” he said softly. Then, louder, “What do you want?” You blinked in surprise before crossing your arms.
“What’s up with you today?” you asked. Bucky’s frown instantly appeared.
“Excuse me?”
“I said,” you repeated, “what is up with you today?” The brunet didn’t answer. “You’re snappish and cold—did I do something wrong?” Bucky’s eyes widened fractionally. “Look, I love you, and I want us to be happy, but I want us to be happy together. Whatever isn’t working, we can fix, but you have to talk to me about it. I’m not Kai. I don’t know what you’re thinking.”
Bucky stood slowly, his eyes tracing up and down the length of your figure before he sighed, walked over to you, and held you to his chest. The steady beat of his heart sounded in your ear, slow and predictable. His chest shook with a large exhale. “I don’t deserve you,” Bucky said quietly.
Your arms wrapped around him tightly. “You do,” you said quietly. Bucky stiffened. “You deserve good things. You deserve to be loved and cherished. You deserve peace and happiness and security—someone who will love you unconditionally.”
“I wanted that person—” he paused. “I want that person to be you.” You looked up at him, a warm smile gracing your face.
“It will be, if you let me,” you replied smoothly. “I love you.”
“You should—Steve is better for you.” You blinked. “He’s stable. He knows who he is, at least—hell, you’ve got to be damn blind not to see the way you two click and—” You rose, pressing your lips against his firmly, an effective silencer.
“I chose you. I will always choose you,” you said against his lips. “I would go to the ends of the earth for you—beyond that.” Your fingers traced where metal met flesh, light against the scar tissue, a caress.
Bucky had to look away. His features had crumpled, blue eyes glazing over and sliding shut. You could recognize the weakness on his face, the way he wished to hide it from you, and although you hoped one day have Bucky show his weakness openly, you loved him for it. You loved the way his eyes reflected a desire to convey strength. You loved the slight tremble of his lips, the way he hid beneath his lashes to avoid your gaze.
As he looked back at you, Bucky saw the warmth of your eyes increase. He noted the openness of your expression, how you sought to give him everything you could—and felt selfish. “Bucky,” you whispered. He closed his eyes. “James.” Bucky’s eyes flew open, surprise evident in his light blue gaze.
“You are James Buchanan ‘Bucky’ Barnes,” you said firmly, emphasizing each segment of his name with a kiss. “And if you ever forget, I will always be there to remind you.” You pushed him gently back down onto the bed.
“Ash—” You shushed him gently.
“I want to make you feel good,” you said. “I want to love you in every way I can.” At Bucky’s wide eyes, your tone grew gentler. “Let me do this for you. Please.” Bucky paused for a moment, studying you, before he nodded.
“Okay.” The word was a whisper. You smiled gently.
“Good. Relax and let me do the work,” you replied. You straddled Bucky’s hips, leaning down to kiss him once more. His lips were just a little chapped—rough against your lips, pressing desperately against your own as if to confirm that you were there, that he was allowed to do this to you. Leaning further down, you allowed the kiss to deepen, gently pressing your body against his and allowing your hands to roam.
They glided over his chest first, feather-light, exploring every inch of available skin. Your lips strayed from his, trailing down his neck, over the exposed column of his throat as his head tilted back. You kept them light, gentle, kind. His hips shifted under yours.
Your mouth trailed across his chest next, paying special attention to his reactions as you neared his metal shoulder. Blue eyes remained riveted to yours as you reached the messy joining of materials. You paid homage there to his suffering, and then to his survival. “I love you,” you whispered. Bucky’s breath caught. You moved on.
You leaned back, ridding yourself of the shirt that had become too stuffy. Bucky’s hands instantly sought your waist. You gave him a deep kiss before continuing downward.
You whispered sweet words against Bucky’s skin, eyes always watching his, always waiting for his reactions before you moved on. You meant every word you said, and you desperately wanted Bucky to see it.
You removed yourself from Bucky’s hips only to unbutton them, pushing his tired jeans down to his ankles. He shoved them off. You kissed the inside of his thighs, hands slowly pushing your shorts off, kneeling between his legs. Your hand stroked the hardening length of his cock. “I love you,” you said once more. Bucky’s arm had fallen over his eyes. “I love all of you.”
You unhooked your bra, tossing it aside, probably far from where you had lost your shirt. “There’s nobody else I’d rather be with,” you said, tugging at his boxers. Bucky pushed himself up, eyes wide.
“Doll you—you don’t need to do that,” he said thickly, pupils wide. You smiled.
“I don’t need to,” you said. “But I want to.” With that, his boxers were tugged to the floor. Your hands wrapped around his length first, coaxing a fuller erection before your mouth was on it. Bucky’s hips jerked, a gasp pushing past his lips as the heat surrounding him grew overwhelming. You paused a moment, seeking affirmation, before continuing once more.
Your mouth, Bucky thought, was either a blessing or a curse. It was so wonderfully warm and wet, your tongue traced his cock in a way that was just right, and the way you hummed—God, the way you hummed as you sucked his cock like some goddamn miracle savior was downright torturous.
He’d managed to sit up by this point, his hands stroking your hair, your cheeks, eyes always on your face. The way your tongue traced teasingly over his head and slit—God, your hands at the base, the torturously delightful way you left no part of him neglected. Bucky groaned low in his throat, a knot forming in his belly.
“Doll, babe, please—” You looked up. “Please—in you.” You pulled off, a trail of precum dripping past your lips.
“Anything for you,” you replied smoothly. “Lean back.” Bucky did as he was told, content to let you have the reins this time around.
“Wait—” You paused. “Condom?” You blinked.
“Yes,” you said. “Condom. Definitely.” You reached into his nightstand to pull one out, carefully opening the package before rolling it on him. “Smart cookie.” Bucky chuckled weakly.
“Wouldn’t want you to get something you don’t want,” he said. You smiled crookedly.
“If it’s from you—,” you placed a kiss on his lips. “I don’t mind.” A genuine laugh this time. You took off your panties and determined you’d probably lost them forever. “Are you ready?”
“I should be asking you that,” Bucky replied, an eyebrow raised. You grinned.
“Not with what I’m about to do,” you stated. Bucky reclined fully and adjusted himself on the bed. You straddled him once more, aligning yourself, before slowly, carefully, taking in his length. As you adjusted, you placed Bucky’s hands on your hips, kissing him gently. A longing whine left his lips. You rolled your hips experimentally. His head tilted back, a groan rumbling in his throat.
Having adjusted, you set a slow pace initially. You wanted to take your time, ensuring that Bucky would get maximum pleasure from you. Apparently, he was enjoying himself a little too much. His hips jerked beneath you, breaths growing increasingly rapid. Your lips played across his neck and lips, always on the move. Your hands were planted firmly on his chest.
“Tell me what you need, Bucky,” you said into his skin.
“Say my name.” You looked up. “My name. My real name. Please.” You smiled at overwhelmed blue eyes.
“James,” you said, another kiss pressed to his lips. “I love you, James.” His hips jerked again. “I love you so much.” You moved faster now, your lips pressed firmly against his, a hand wiping at the moisture that gathered at the corners of his eyes. “I will always, always love you.”
Bucky shuddered beneath you, his moans swallowed by you, erratically trying to pump in and out of you as you continued to milk the last of his orgasm from him. “I love you, James.” Bucky whimpered before kissing you harder.
“I love you,” he gasped into your skin. “I love you so much.” You smiled brightly. Blue eyes darkened.
Kai sat pleasantly, eyes watching you interact with Steve. Today was the third consecutive day he’d forgotten to shave the stubble that lined his jaw, five o’clock shadow overpowering the smoothness of his jaw. They grinned, watching you place a fleeting touch to he side of his face, fingers trailing at his jawline. Oh, they were going to have fun with this.
You waltzed down the hall, fully prepared to have Nat kick your ass for the second time this week. Steve placed himself on the seat next to the smugly-grinning telepath, eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You seem to be having a delightful morning,” he ventured cautiously.
Kai sipped a coffee so pale Steve wondered how it actually contained caffeine at all. “Oh, I tuned in to a rather interesting station just now,” they replied. They gave the Steve the once-over and tapped their temple. Steve narrowed his eyes. “If I were you,” they said, taking a long sip and releasing a semi-contented sigh, “I may be inclined to grow that beard out.”
“Why?” Kai gave a grin.
“Let’s just say Ash has an interest in seeing you have one.” Kai’s grin widened. “I’m rooting for you.” The tall man didn’t have time to respond as Kai’s form retreated down the hall.
Today was most definitely not your day. Steve was constantly distracting you, and the worst part was that it wasn’t even conscious on his part. Kai had teasingly said your “Stevie Senses” were uncannily accurate, leaving you to wonder if they were really teasing you at all. All the blond had to do was step into the room and your attention instantly zeroed in on him with all the accuracy of Clint’s arrows.
Something was very, very different. You’d spilt water all over yourself trying to figure out what had changed. It was almost as if he’d changed his very face—no, that couldn’t be right. People don’t just change their faces—unless they were Kai, but that was a very different matter—you shook your head. As you walked over to Steve’s position at the end of the couch, you toes slammed into the edge of the ottoman. Low curses dropped from your mouth. “Language!” Kai shrieked from two rooms away. “You’ll upset the Steve!” Steve promptly laughed.
You send a strong image of unsavory images toward Kai. “What’s got you all distracted?” Steve asked cheerfully. You could smell his coffee wafting through the air.
“Your face is different,” you blurted. Instantly, your cheeks heating as you realized the implication of your words.
“Different good or different bad?” Steve replied.
“Good, definitely good!” you said quickly, your hair starting to smoke with embarrassment. “But I’m not entirely sure why?” Kai could be heard snickering. Whether it was at you or at something else, you didn’t want to know. You exited the room quickly.
It took you a minute. Steve had barged during your sparring session, sweat dripping down his face, chatting a mile a minute with Bucky, when you’d noticed it—the beard that cloaked his jaw. Hell, you thought it could very well deserve its own title. The Beard. Goddamn, was it fine.
Perhaps it was something in your stare—Steve’s attention had been captured, and with a few words, Bucky was dismissed. You glanced back at where Nat had been to find she’d vanished. You silently praised her. “I think I’ve figured it out,” you said slowly, lips twisting into a grin.
“Yeah?” You walked confidently up toward him, grabbed his jaw, and tugged it down to your level.
“That beard is the epitome of sin,” you said against his lips. Steve grinned, a rumbling laugh rising in his chest. “I guess I better punish you for it.”
“As you see fit,” he replied teasingly, allowing you to slip sweat-slick cloth over his head. Your lips split into a sultry smile. There was a few heartbeats of stillness and silence before Steve’s mouth crashed against yours. He tugged off the loose muscle shirt you wore, tossing it toward an unknown corner of the room.
“FRIDAY,” Steve gasped, “make sure nobody comes in.”
“As you wish, Captain Rogers,” FRIDAY replied.
“Scared, Cap?” you teased, your mouth leaving a trail of gentle bites down his chest. Steve gave a low groan.
“Anything, but,” he hissed, tugging at your shorts. You deftly rid yourself of them. Your hands fumbled with Steve’s shorts, nudging them further down until Steve could step out with ease. His length strained against the fabric of his boxers.
“Eager, then,” you whispered playfully, arms going up as nimble fingers pried your sports bra from your skin. Steve nipped at your neck in response, gently pushing you toward the floor. As your back hit the matted floor, Steve was already sliding your underwear down with uncanny smoothness.
Your fingers clutched his hair as he placed an experimental kiss on the inside of your thigh. His beard rasped dangerously against your skin. “Is this a good idea?” he asked pulling back. You blinked.
“Excuse me?”
“The beard, I mean. Won’t it burn you?” Steve said, hesitance caking his words. You squirmed.
“Yeah, so?”
“Doesn’t that hurt?”
“Well—” You flushed. “It’s a good burn.” Steve blinked a few times before offering a predatory grin.
“Well, Inferno,” Steve said. “What’ll it be?”
“Eat me out,” you said. “That’s an order, Captain.” Steve held eye contact with you as he went back down. Steve’s beard was rough as it grazed your inner thighs, a harsh rub that complimented the ministrations of his tongue and mouth well. His hands kept your thighs spread, tongue circling your clit teasingly before getting to work. The friction of his beard was almost a relief.
Your hands knotted in his hair, Steve groaned at the tugs you gave his hair. Your breaths were ragged, chest heaving at the wonders Steve’s tongue did at your core. A hand slipped down your thigh before losing contact with you. You almost didn’t notice as they prodded at your entrance. You gave a gasp as one finger entered, a slow movement. Your thighs squeezed Steve’s head; the rasp of his beard intensified.
As quickly as Steve’s movements began, it came to a sudden end, your climax arriving with shocking speed at the prodding of two fingers. Your thighs squeezed, hips rising from the floor, grating against his jaw—a sigh escaped you.
“What’s next?” Steve said teasingly, a grin spreading across his face as he licked off his fingers. As you recovered your breath, you sat upright.
“Lay back,” you said lightly. Your legs were still wobbly as you crawled over toward him. A large spot was growing on the front of his boxers. “Naughty boy,” you whispered, licking a long strip up the front. His cock twitched beneath you. “Can you give me one more?” Steve nodded, black consuming the blue of his eyes.
You kept crawling forward, Steve’s hands running up and down the length of your body. Your hips canted over his mouth. As he nodded, you allowed your weight to rest on him. You shuddered at the pressure of his tongue against your entrance, the slow prod of it before he traced a stripe up toward your clit. He was gentle at first, allowing you time to become less sensitive from your last orgasm.
Steve’s grip on your hips was sudden and firm. He pressed you down hard against him, his tongue entering and exiting you at a cruel pace, lapping as if to taste all of you. A low groan sent you shuddering, grinding down on his face. His tongue returned to your clit. You gave a sharp gasp—you were still a little oversensitive, but it was more pleasurable than painful. Your hips ground against him forcefully.
Steve gave a few low hums, sending vibrations through you as he traced indiscernible shapes against you. A keen escaped you at one in particular—a mistake, you thought briefly, as he began to repeat it. It was almost embarrassing how quickly you came after that, a throaty moan spilling past your lips. Steve shuddered beneath you, his voice muffled. You leaned back, weight on his chest. Steve’s face was flushed.
“Did I choke you?” you asked, concern lacing your voice. Steve shook his head.
“Far from it,” he said hoarsely. You looked back—his cock twitched visibly against his boxers, the spot of moisture having spread wider.
“Having a good time, then?” you turned around, baring yourself, before leaning over and prying his underwear. A sticky string connected the fabric to his skin.
“Yes,” he squeaked, hands grasping your thighs as you leaned down and placed his cock in your mouth. He gave a breathless gasp as you hummed, licking his skin clean.
“Good as new,” you sang. “Again?” You turned and winked at your boyfriend to see him tug your hips down forcefully and run his tongue over your core. A whimper escaped you before you leaned down once more to take his length in.
Steve gave a throaty moan as the heat of your mouth enclosed him. Your breasts pressed against his stomach, rubbing slightly against his skin as you moved up and down.
Steve lapped at you like there was no tomorrow. His eagerness, even after two rounds, sent a trill of pleasure through you. His cock appeared to agree—it pulsed in your mouth as if your pleasure was its. Steve’s beard still rasped at your thighs, nearly overpowering the strong motions of his tongue that paralyzed your hips. A whimper, a moan, and you slipped over the edge for the third time. If you were going to cum, so was he, you decided. Steve, apparently, had a similar idea—another strong suck, your nails trailing teasingly afterward, and Steve cried out.
“Y-You don’t—” you allowed his release in your mouth, milking the last of his orgasm out before swallowing quickly. You wrinkled your nose briefly at the bitter taste before rolling off. “Babe, you didn’t have to—”
“I chose to,” you stated primly. “Please tell me you can walk.” Steve sat up, raising an eyebrow.
“Did someone play a little too hard?” he teased. You huffed. “I’ll get your clothes.”
“Thanks, Steve.” His laughter sent your cheeks flaming. “I blame the fucking beard.”
Kel yawned, one hand moving to stifle the noise that escaped them as they watched four figures march their way out of the house. Two more trotted after the first group, hands linked, and probably still half-asleep. In all honesty, Kel found the beach to be somewhat uncomfortable. The ladies and gents and everyone in between were all nice enough to look at, but with the beach came the issue of swimwear. That concern was best left forgotten.
Lynn was ushering three children and two of their companions out into the garden. “C’mon, c’mon, do you want to go or not?” Kel whined, pushing them up onto the granite portal. “You guys got me up at the asscrack of dawn for this.”
“No swearing in front of Isobel!” Lynn hissed, making sure that everyone fit on the circle of stone. The incubus scoffed.
“She hears plenty from Mikhael and his incessant screaming,” they replied testily. Isobel merely nodded with wide, all-knowing eyes. Lynn threw his hands up in the air.
“I had to look some of them up,” she whispered. Lynn’s face transformed from frustrated to horrified.
“I offered to soundproof the room,” Kel replied, watching in amusement as Mikhael and Asha began to turn scarlet despite the chilly morning air. “Of course, they said there was no need.” Lynn wondered if he was going to gag.
“Can we get going?” Jess asked, rubbing at his eyes. “It’s obscenely early and I deserve to get to go to the ocean for this torture.” Kel offered an indulgent smile.
“Of course,” the incubus said. “I think you’ll find I’m better practiced than others.” Jess blinked slowly. His eyes drifted to Shawn as if it was second nature. Perhaps it was. He wasn’t quite sure.
“In my defense, that language is dead,” Shawn said, one eyebrow raised. “I had to look through the entire library to find anything close to a book on it.” Kel rolled their eyes.
“Not my fault you were born in this century. I was impressed though—most people can’t even place it,” they said calmly. “Let me show you how you really speak Nox.”
“It’s called Nox?” Shawn asked. Kel laughed.
“Nah. But you wouldn’t be able to say it even if I taught you.” The siren scowled slightly. Kel began speaking suddenly. Shawn’s attempted at Nox had sounded somewhat elegant, if rough and like the sound of cats screaming. Still, in its horrendous state, the language did maintain some level of dignity, if only barely. Perhaps it was merely the high quality of Shawn’s voice that allowed his attempt at Nox to keep from sounding like nails on a chalkboard.
Kel’s rendition was different. As a native speaker, the coarse and violent-sounding language flowed more easily, less like something dying, and more like a strange promise of violence and lust. Part of that could probably be attributed to Kel’s breed—but most came from practice. Whether Lynn was particularly proud of that practice or not didn’t show on his face. Kel looked a little smug.
The runes all flashed scarlet before the portal floor dropped away. This time, however, the large group all managed to land on their feet. No rude butt-sand introductions—Shawn looked away at Jess’s pointed glance. “Alright, alright, stop showing off,” Lynn said, smacking the incubus none too gently.
Kel sniffed, vaguely offended, before shading their eyes from the sun with one hand. “Anyway, pick somewhere we won’t all be trampled by humans and I can still see which of you is drowning,” they said calmly. Lynn shot his partner a very unimpressed glance.
The beach wasn’t too crowded due to the early hour, but the party’s abrupt entrance had managed to snag the gaze of the beachgoers who had been present. Jess’s gaze narrowed slightly, his fingers looping with Shawn’s. Asha didn’t bother to hide her possessiveness. She plastered herself to Mikhael’s side and glowered at a teen who didn’t bother to hide her appreciation of the cat-boy’s butt. Kel’s smile stretched too wide as they scanned the beach.
“Isobel, Asha, you’re up,” Lynn said, rubbing his eyes. The two girls exchanged glances before racing a short ways toward the soft white sand. The two adults and gaggle of boys behind them marched toward where the two witches had started to lay out massive beach towels.
Asha reached down toward her canvas backpack, spread the opening, and pulled out an oversized umbrella. She then pulled out a large cooler, two beach chairs, and what looked like a deflated hamster ball. To say Mikhael was concerned could possibly have been understatement of the year. Kel and Lynn claimed the beach chairs before anyone else could even open their mouths.
The fire demon grabbed the cooler and sandwiched it between the two chairs, popped open the lid, and began to sort through the assorted drinks and ice. He scowled, shoved his hand all the way to the bottom, and pulled out a can of vanilla Coke. Lynn then turned label away from Kel.
Kel didn’t bother to actually rummage through the cooler. They grabbed the first thing that came to hand. If that so happened to be a juice box, it would suffice. As it turned out, most of the top layer of drinks were juice boxes. Kel was glad they didn’t draw grape juice. They stabbed the small plastic straw into the box and, with as much dignity as possible, began to empty the carton.
In the meantime, Jess and Shawn had already raced into the ocean and out of sight. Asha and Isobel had begun the long and arguably-easy task of bullying Mikhael into inflating the hamsterball.
“Do you think they’ll actually fit?” Kel asked, raising an eyebrow as Isobel began to crawl into a rumpled blob of plastic. Asha watched as Mikhael used an air pump to keep the ball in shape.
“It’s bigger than it looks,” Lynn replied easily. Asha wiped her mouth. Kel snickered—their daughter had probably drooled looking at Mikhael’s arms. The hamsterball was slowly taking shape, filling out at awkward angles—much like a teenage boy. When it finally resembled a ball, and looked fit to burst, Asha disconnected the air pump and placed a plug where it once had been. Isobel bounced around inside.
“At least she won’t drown,” Kel said with a sigh, sipping more juice.
“She could drift out to sea,” the fire demon returned. Kel’s face paled slightly.
“Well there’s always Shawn and Jess,” they said, this time more hesitant.
“Not if they’re doing other things.” Kel turned in time to see Lynn wiggle his eyebrows suggestively.
“The most disturbing part of that scenario—” Kel looked slightly green. “—is that I would sense it.” Lynn looked slightly green as well after that.
The two sat in silence, both mildly disgusted at the possibility of knowing way too much about the children’s lives, before Kel glanced over at Lynn. The demon didn’t look particularly joyous. He just sat there, sipping his Coke, staring at the way Isobel kept slipping inside the hamsterball, and scowling at a few of the nearby humans that strayed too close. His mouth was set in a rather unforgiving line.
That really wouldn’t do—Kel hadn’t labored through the process of waking up before any reasonable hour to get here just to see Lynn look more like a disgruntled cat than anything else. It was cute—but Kel didn’t think it was enough to soothe the pain of having only gotten an hour in sleeping before waking up again.
“You look less than pleased,” Kel said sullenly, a pout forming on their face. Lynn blinked several times before he seemed to register the incubus’s words.
“Hm? I’m just thinking of other things,” he replied, his words coming with practiced ease. Kel spotted the lie easily.
“I know the beach can be less than ideal—” Lynn merely shrugged. “—but Asha, Isobel, and Jess seem to be having fun. Otherwise I wouldn’t have dragged us out here.” Lynn offered no words, simply staring at the waves.
“We could try volleyball if you want. Or laying in the sun. Or building a sand castle.” Kel didn’t see any sign of interest. “We could swim?” Lynn’s fingers twitched. The incubus raised an eyebrow. “Swimming?” Another twitch of the fingers.
Kel yawned and stood, arms stretched overhead, fingertips brushing the smooth material of the umbrella. “Did you even wear something to swim in?” Lynn asked cooly, yanking the material of his shirt up over his head before folding it neatly. Kel watched with silent appreciation.
“Of course I did,” the incubus replied fluidly, half distracted by the quickly warming remainder of their juicebox. Lynn raised an eyebrow.
“You’re literally in shorts and a shirt, neither of which is swimming material,” the fire demon said, reaching out and examining the fabric of Kel’s shirt. “Cotton kills.” Kel raised an eyebrow.
“Doesn’t mean I’m not wearing something underneath,” the incubus returned. Lynn raised an eyebrow. With a sigh, the incubus disrobed to reveal shorter shorts and what might’ve once been a considered a shirt, but now looked more like a tank that had been cut off halfway down the demon’s ribs. Lynn then prodded Kel in stomach.
“So you can swim. Sort of,” Lynn said, rising from his chair. The incubus looked mildly offended, raising one eyebrow before deciding there was nothing to be said. “You’re gonna freeze.”
“That’s why I have you,” Kel returned, pasting a grin onto their face. “I want to see if you can make the ocean a jacuzzi.” Lynn blinked several times, frowned, and wondered if Kel had been dropped repeatedly as a child. He then dismissed the demon’s words. Kel began to walk toward the ocean.
Lynn watched for a few moments, taking in the dark skin and reaching white tattoos. Two bands of runes on each arm, encircling the wrists and biceps, and a flurry of swirling lines and knots connecting the two bands looked crisp and almost surgically-precise against Kel’s skin. There was more, Lynn thought, but found that Kel’s clothing kept it hidden.
The fire demon then brushed imaginary dust from his clothing and stepped leisurely behind the incubus. The water looked nice, if a bit cold, and Isobel still hadn’t drowned or sunk her enormous hamsterball. Asha and Mikhael were building a painstakingly detailed sandcastle using a bit of magic.
The water was warmer than it appeared. It was cold, yes, but not unbearably so. It was actually rather comfortable once the shock of cool waves and slightly slimy seaweed underfoot wore off. Kel paused at waist-height for Lynn to catch up, one eyebrow raised as Lynn took slightly longer than expected. The fire demon was slow-moving in water and was pausing to allow the newly revealed segments of his skin to adjust slightly. “Hurry up, slowpoke!” Kel whined, unblinking even as an unusually large wave crashed into their back. “There’s no way you could possibly adjust any slower!”
Lynn raised an eyebrow. “Have you ever considered that fire and water don’t coexist peacefully?” he asked slowly, as if Kel were a child. The white-haired demon scowled. “You know, since water extinguishes fire and all?”
“Now don’t tell me that the big, bad fire demon is afraid of a little bit of water,” the incubus said teasingly. “I mean, you’ve rushed into battle much faster than you’re getting into this water.” Lynn narrowed his eyes.
“It’s an ocean, and that’s a little bit more than ‘a little bit of water’,” the demon returned. Around Lynn, the water was beginning to steam ever so slightly. Kel hid a smirk.
“Well you can swim, can’t you?” Kel watched intently as the steam intensified slightly. “I mean, you’re a demon after all. I thought a little bit of ocean wouldn’t scare you this much.” Lynn stepped chest-to-chest with the incubus. For a moment, Kel’s eyes widened. The incubus then ducked under a particularly strong wave and allowed it to hit the fire demon in the face. Lynn spluttered indignantly.
The fire demon dove forward, chasing at the retreating form that had allowed him to be brutalized by the wave. His eyes were stinging, his temper was rising just above what he’d have liked, and his hand felt like they were actually aflame although no fire was produced. Kel’s figure stopped suddenly, spun around, and launched itself at Lynn.
“See?” Kel said suddenly, clinging to the red-haired demon as the two bobbed along the surface of the water. “I told you a jacuzzi-ocean was possible.” Lynn blinked and scowled at the bubbling ocean water.
“You tricked me, you—” Kel slapped a hand over Lynn’s mouth and snickered.
“Think of the children!” the incubus said with faux frightened eyes. “Think of the joy this will bring them! And also how none of you can stay if I’m killed!” Lynn scowled more fiercely and shoved the incubus under the surface of the water. A few bubbles arose with violent thrashing. Kel was then gone—and two arms wrapped around the fire demon’s waist and dragged him under the surface as well.
It was a little difficult to see, considering the stinging salt water and its unnaturally warm temperature. Kel’s face was blurry, wavering in and out of focus, but their laughter was clear to see. Lynn chased after them ungracefully.
The two played an odd game of tag, shooting threats back and forth between breathless gasps for air and uncontrollable laughter. Kel barely managed to avoid Lynn’s so-called wrath, able to move slightly more easily due to their lankier nature. Lynn, on the other hand, wasn’t particularly fast, but he was strong, and found that if he slowed just as Kel turned, the incubus wouldn’t be able to avoid him. The game ended in a struggle as Kel attempted to wriggle from Lynn’s grasp and found it to be impossible.
“I give,” Kel gasped, head breaking the surface of the water. “The almighty fire demon has vanquished yet another enemy!” Lynn growled playfully, his hair dripping into his eyes as he tried to keep Kel from rushing out of his grasp.
“Damn right,” he said, dunking Kel under the water for another second. Kel spluttered before drawing another breath of air. Lynn managed to keep the two afloat, his toes barely brushing the sandy bottom beneath the waves. Kel remained somewhat suspended in the warm ocean water.
“Nobody can defeat the mighty Lynn—” Kel paused to allow a wave to pass over the two. “—who will be his next challenger?” When nothing came but the sound of Isobel’s muffled giggles and the screeches of children playing on the beach, Kel offered a grin. “Not a soul is brave enough to test the demon’s strength!” Lynn squeezed Kel and laughed at the incubus’s half-assed thrashing for freedom.
“You’re certainly testing the limits of my ego,” Lynn said, grinning. “Care to keep inflating it?” Kel turned and grinned.
“I’m sure such a reliable paladin has no need for such flattery,” Kel replied, hooking their arms around Lynn’s neck. “Although you did come into the water and abandon your adjustment-practices for me. What a selfless partner you are.” Kel’s voice had softened to a more crooning tone. Lynn’s face reddened.
“What a flatterer you are,” Lynn said, averting his eyes slightly. “Do you whisper words like this to everyone you meet?” Kel leaned forward, grinning slightly.
“Only for you,” they said lowly. “These words are for you alone.”
“I must be special, then,” the demon returned, leaning his forehead against Kel’s. “To have words all my own from one such as you is a privilege.” Kel pressed slightly closer to the fire demon.
“You’re the only one with whom I would ever share eternity,” they replied. The two leaned forward, barely a breath apart.
The taste of vanilla and apple was rudely interrupted by a wave of previously unthinkable size. It tore the two demons from each other, lifted them from the easy reach of the ocean floor, and tossed the two bodies onto earth with spine-jarring force. Lynn coughed up a lungful of water as Kel groaned and rolled over, rubbing their back and tossing a spiteful glare into the water.
It then became evident that not all was as it seemed. Jess and Shawn had been thrown onto dry land, Jess’s tail attracting sand and Shawn’s legs quickly reappearing. Isobel was bounced into place between the two beach chairs the demons had inhabited earlier. Asha and Mikhael had scurried to safety, their sand castle left to face the wrath of yet another wave. Asha looked as if she were in mourning.
“What is that?” Lynn asked, blinking as a dark shape wriggled into focus. Kel didn’t answer, busy attempting to make sure the kids had all escaped unscathed. The incubus catalogued injuries, no matter how small, and felt rage coil in the pit of their stomach. “Kel!” The demon snapped to attention.
The creature itself was many-armed, or perhaps many-legged, with writhing, oily-looking limbs. Two pitch-colored eyes glared daggers at the shoreline, and a maw with rows upon rows of shark-like teeth released a piercing screech. Kel heard the humans of the beach take flight.
“Kel, what is that?” Lynn repeated, scrabbling to his feet. Kel followed more slowly, taking in the creature’s appearance. They then spoke a name Lynn wasn’t able to repeat. The fire demon raised an eyebrow.
“It’s a distant cousin of the kraken,” Kel explained, irritated that nobody understood Nox. “Someone I used to know called upon it frequently.”
“Is this their work?” Lynn asked, moving to stand in front of Kel, as if to shield them from the creature.
“That person is dead,” the incubus answered. “We should kill it.” The two demons watched the kraken-like creature throw water toward the shore like an angry toddler. An enormous, angry toddler. One with pointy teeth and perhaps a few too many limbs.
“It...I-It’s huge,” Isobel said from inside her hamsterball. Her voice echoed slightly within the inflated plastic. Mikhael turned to face the small witch and, sensing that now was perhaps his one and only chance to salvage some dignity from being constantly overheard by the tiny, talkative girl, grinned wolfishly.
“That’s what Asha said,” he stage-whispered, eyes gleaming with unparalleled satisfaction. For a moment, even the sea creature stopped moving. Lynn and Kel spared the time to turn and pin a glare of immeasurable I-will-gut-you-and-use-your-pelt-as-a-rug in his direction. The catboy gulped loudly.
“We will talk of this upon our return,” Kel said icily.
“Well, he wasn’t exactly wrong,” Asha responded, trying to keep her now wide-eyed boyfriend alive for another day. Lynn then turned.
“Kel and I will be placing a number of restrictions upon you both,” Lynn said heatedly. “One of which will be discussing why your sex life has become a recurring theme in our lives.” Asha’s skin wasn’t sure whether to pale or flush. In the end, it did both. Mikhael’s ears flattened against his skull like a disgruntled cat.
The sea creature then emitted an ear-piercing shriek, as if offended by the sex lives of two morally-ambiguous teens. Lynn didn’t blame it. Kel hoped this meant they could soon walk the castle freely. “Now how do we kill this without drowning?” Lynn asked, watching the creature begin to approach the shore. Kel scowled slightly.
“We could always do what we used to,” the incubus replied, rubbing one ring of runes on their arm. Lynn scowled slightly.
“Can you really just bring that back?” the fire demon asked, his hands beginning to produce fire. “After last time, I figured you’d avoid it.” Kel ran a finger over a rune disrupted by scar.
“I don’t see another way. It’s huge and as much as I’d prefer to leave it here, the humans can’t exterminate it quite yet,” they replied with a sigh. “I’d just have to do it later.”
“Wouldn’t we be more prepared—” Kel’s eyes widened momentarily before they launched forward and tackled the fire demon. A ridiculously large, barbed tentacle swung overhead and missed the two by inches.
“I’d say that Mr. Legs here isn’t going to give us enough time to transport out,” Kel hissed, feelings shells cut into their palms. They got up quickly and backed from the shore.
“I’m inclined to agree,” Lynn said, standing and brushing sand from his legs. “Get to work. I’ll keep it busy.” Kel watched in horror as Lynn leaped onto one overly extended tentacle and ran up its length.
“No time like the present!” Kel said unenthusiastically. They checked to make sure the children were sufficiently far back before they began to do their job. Nox began to fill the air, dark and heavy as if the words each held unimaginable weight. A rune shaped much like a star on the inside of each of the incubus’s wrists turned blood red.
Lynn was busy dodging hooked barbs as he raced up the sea monster’s long limbs. He was attempting to get to the monstrosity’s eyes, perhaps blind it if he could. If push came to shove, the fire demon wasn’t above performing a few amputations. Fire was racing up his arms, licking at the air near his ears, flames almost white in their heat. Lynn relished the opportunity to release them.
As he slowly burned his way across one tentacle in order to jump onto another, Lynn kept an eye on his counterpart. If Kel had begun their spell, the incubus would be unable to keep themselves out of harm’s way. It would be even worse of one of the children strayed too close.
Kel’s skin had begun to darken, turning a deep purple near where the red runes looked like they may actually be bleeding. The white tattoos turned whiter as purple leaked from their edges, following Kel’s veins. The dark threads crossed each other, closing in like someone was weaving them together. Kel’s nails extended into blackened claws.
Asha wasn’t sure what was going on—Kel’s hair was darkening from the roots, and the sand around their feet looked like it had been scorched. What was she supposed to do? Was the sand actually burnt, or was it some trick of the light, an unusual shadow? She picked up a stick, shushing Mikhael as he hissed a warning, and used it to touch the blackened circle about Kel’s feet. The stick crumbled, the air felt too thick, and Asha found herself running away from the incubus and their near-glowing tattoos.
Lynn was successful in avoiding the majority of the creature’s barbs and unusually large, shark-like teeth. If Kel had connections to this thing’s owner, Lynn didn’t want to know what had led to it. The white-hot flames in his hands pressed charring black marks into the creature’s skin. So far, it hadn’t made much noise aside from some angry hissing and unusually sharp twists of its head on a nonexistent neck. He was just about to get onto another limb when the creature stilled.
Lynn wondered if the creature was plotting something—until the creature released a scream that sent shudders down the fire demon’s spine. The fire demon turned to see a terrifying grin spread across Kel’s face.
Kel felt like they had no body. The physical world didn’t exist, didn’t matter, would never matter. All that mattered was the light blue sphere that looked so utterly fragile. They held it in cool hands—did they really have hands?—and squeezed. It felt so good, so absolutely wonderful to destroy. How long had it been since Kel had actually killed someone like this? too long too long too long
Lynn flinched at the expression that crossed Kel’s face—something between joy and rage and greed—before placing his burning hands within proximity of the creature’s eyes. One oval-like pupil pinned a heavy glare on the fire demon, shrieks echoing.
The light blue bubble in Kel’s hands wasn’t popping. The incubus felt some level of frustration, scowling as it began to spike out erratically, attempting to force Kel to withdraw. It wasn’t as if this wasn’t familiar—Kel actually found it reminded them of a person a little too close to home and —no, no that wouldn’t do. Kel squeezed harder and found the bubble had a little more give and a little less bite. this was living, this was great, oh, yes, they should do this much more often
The sea creature was thrashing back and forth, nearly tossing Lynn into the ocean as it lost another appendage. Its skin smoked as Lynn pulled his hands away, nose crinkling at what smelled like grilled squid. Maybe it was a squid. It looked more like an octopus than a squid but then again—Lynn dodged a very much attached tentacle that swiped at him.
Kel was laughing—or they thought they were laughing. Maybe it was screaming. Both were pretty fun, but not as fun as destroying the bubble. They watched it flex in and out of shape, starting to melt and lose shape like ice cream in the sun. Two hands—were they hands? were they just figments of Kel’s imagination?—came together and slammed into each other with enough force to smash the bubble. It popped neatly. Kel felt the creature’s mind open up and oh all the possibilities, so much to do, so much to destroy, oh this will be so much fun
Lynn stilled as the monster went momentarily limp. He stepped back, watching the thing’s remaining eye roll back. The eye came forward, pupils blown. Lynn raced for the shore as it began to let out unholy cries of distress, convulsing as if something, someone, had attached puppet strings and was attempting to poorly pilot the shrieking being.
The water was cold, too cold, as Lynn reached the sand, water splashing up to his knees in an effort to try and calm down Kel before they turned on someone they both loved. The dark circle of sand had expanded, stretching several feet in each direction. The creature—Lynn could no longer bear to listen to it—it sounded like it was receiving a punishment no one could possibly deserve—suddenly fell silent. A loud crash sounded. Lynn turned to see its body sink below waves.
Kel remained in the same position, grinned malevolently out at the sea, not quite touching the ground. Lynn watched warily. Perhaps this time Kel would walk out on their own. They could do it this time, right? Kel had some amount of self-control, even if they didn’t often exercise it. The fire demon felt two clammy hands hold his. Asha looked up with enormous brown eyes.
“Why is Kel still like—” the witch pressed her lips together as if to keep the words back. She glanced nervously at Kel, who was now grinning at Lynn, sharp teeth bared as if to threaten him. “It’s dead.”
“That’s not quite...Kel,” Lynn replied, hesitation dragging down the volume of his words. “It’s difficult to explain.” Jess, now on two comparatively stable legs, faced the demon with a pale face.
“I think you’d better explain before we end up like that thing,” he returned, his voice low and nearly hard to hear. Lynn glowered.
“Kel wouldn’t dream of hurting you,” Lynn hissed, his canines flashing. His gaze wandered to Kel’s figure. Kel was busy examining how sharp their claws were.
Kel wasn’t sure where they were. It wasn’t as dark anymore. There were people on the beach—weak people, not a good fight, boring but oh what if they were toys and were they talking? Kel scowled. Those people weren’t paying Kel proper respect—there was only the smallest scent of fear, and Kel still couldn’t see their expressions, but it was still displeasing.
Lynn froze. Kel had moved. Was this a sign that Kel had actually managed to come out themselves, or did it mean that they had lost themselves completely? The incubus took several steps forward, as if testing out their body, before moving with more confidence. Their feet never quite touched the ground, as if the earth repulsed their very nature.
You'd had your share of winters. Although you hailed from a warmer climate, you'd grown acclimated to the inconvenience of the wintry white and the dry gusts that came along with it. This was, however, your first winter sharing a floor with Bucky in the Avengers Tower. Perhaps you weren't a stranger to New York, but somehow sharing your living space made everything seem like it was happening for the first time. “Okay, I've gotten all the blankets I can find,” you stated, waddling into your shared living room with both arms laden. “I think I stole a few of Steve’s but he can manage.” Bucky looked up from his phone with a sideways grin. “Steve’s got other things to worry about,” Bucky replied. A brief yelp was heard outside the door of your apartment. “What the actual fuck?” roared an outraged voice. You grinned—Kai was making use of their cold hands in their favorite manner—tormenting Steve. “You're lucky you'll never have that problem,” you sang, dropping the blankets onto the couch and stretching. “Yeah—,” Bucky coughed. “Except for all those accidental brandings.” Your cheeks flushed instantly. You were, on occasion, known to heat up past what was physically acceptable for the average human body. Bucky still had your handprint on his ass. The building’s heating had miraculously decided enough was enough—everyone could suffer some slight chills until Tony got it up and running again. You'd definitely prepared enough to have some warm coats and extra socks on hand, but hadn't foreseen that Bucky might feel as cold as you. He'd whined his way into getting hot chocolate and all the extra heaters you had, but when that had failed to help him overcome the cold, you'd gone blanket hunting. “You'd think the Winter Soldier, super serum and all, could withstand a little New York flurry,” you teased. Your boyfriend gave a slight scowl. “Just because I'm used to it doesn't mean I have to enjoy it,” he replied, dragging a couple of blankets over his legs. “You wouldn't exactly enjoy it either.” You offered a somewhat apologetic smile before holding out another blanket as a peace offering. Bucky took it instantly and draped it over his torso. You examined his cocoon—no spot needed another blanket to cover it—before lounging across the other end of the couch. Bucky's face was half-covered by a few layers of cloth. “Satisfied?” you asked, a grin stretching across your lips. Your natural temperature of 300 degrees afforded you protection from all heat and most cold. Bucky's eyes narrowed to slits. He shook his head. “Well,” you said, fluffing your hair before leaning back down again, “I don't think I can take any more blankets. Sam might kill me, Steve has none, and I'm a little scared to go in Kai’s room—“ Bucky snickered. “What would you like me to do?” Bucky's arm fought for freedom, gears whirring, before his hand patted the seat beside him. “Oh?” “C’mon doll,” Bucky said with a seemingly genuine note of desperation. “You're all I need.” A chuckle escaped you. What Bucky needed, you could provide. With a yawn, you slid over beside him and buried yourself in the blankets that cloaked Bucky from view. Your body slotted nearly next to his, your small hands in his large ones, chest to chest, your head on his shoulder. Bucky's body melted beneath you. “Better?” you breathed, inhaling his scent of old leather and prairie, metal and gunpowder. You breathed deeper. Beneath all that was a scent you couldn't quite place, but it was as unique to Bucky as his stunning, if somewhat rare smile. Bucky's lips quirked. “Much better, doll,” he said quietly, bringing his arms around you. You fell asleep to the sensation of his lips against your forehead.
Wade Wilson was many things. Funny, a little late, sometimes smelly, and generally sweet were what usually came to mind. That—that and the one time he showed you the magic of his baby hand. You weren’t sure if you wanted to remember that.
Today marked the four-hundredth and sixty-seventh day since you met him. You weren’t entirely sure why you bothered to keep track, but Wade said it was a fun party trick. You’d decided to amuse him a while longer.
The inside of your apartment smelled like smoke. Part of that was due to your line of duty—being able to become a human inferno had the X-Men knocking on your door from day one, and while you could opt out of living with your comrades, it didn’t stop the scent of burned clothes (and, occasionally, hair) from trailing you home.
Tonight was chimichanga night. You’d stopped with Wade to get some earlier, but he’d caught sight of someone who had done him wrong and took off before you could ask when he planned to be home. Well, you corrected yourself, if he decided to come home. He liked Blind Al’s place a lot.
As eight stretched into nine, you flopped onto the couch, flipping through the channels in the hope of something catching your eye. Animal Planet was having a special on dog intelligence, but that Alien Guy on History was making weird hand motions again. As you debated between the two, the overpowering scent of cilantro and blood crashed through the window. Wade Wilson followed.
“Didja miss me?” Wade asked, leaning over the back of the couch.
“Not if you’re bleeding on my sofa,” you replied, a smile gracing your face. Wade’s mask offered a wink before he jumped over and sat on the couch’s remaining space.
“Why don’t you show me?” You raised an eyebrow at the purr in his voice, but sat up.
“Okay, I’ll take the bait,” you said with a grin. “But you made me wait all night. Why don’t you show a bit of appreciation first?”
“And how do you suggest I do that?” You flushed before reclining against the arm of the couch and spreading your legs. “Really?” You flushed. “I’m sure I’m going to have more fun with this than you. Have one on me. My treat.”
As Wade had continued to talk, you found it more and more difficult to look at him. Your previous partners had always been a bit wary of you—you caught flame the stronger your emotions became, and sometimes the prelude to the bedroom became the conclusion as your hair smoked and then sparked. Wade took it as a compliment.
“We better let the cat out of the bag,” Wade said, pulling down your pants.
“You did not just call my pussy a cat,” you gasped, one of your feet tracing the inside of his thigh.
“Shall we see if yours has nine lives?” Wade’s mask came off.
“Let’s see if you can get past one,” you teased.
“My rules then,” the mercenary stated. You raised an eyebrow. “Sit up.” You did as he said. Wade leaned back so his feet hung from the end of the couch, his head nestled comfortably in the middle of a cushion. “On my face.” You blinked. As the lines connected, the tell-tale whoosh of your hair stated you’d caught flame. A toothy grin invited you closer. Carefully, you crawled over, allowing Wade’s hands to direct the position of your hips over his face.
“Don’t die on me,” you warned teasingly.
“Oh, this is my ideal way to die,” Wade said, his breath warm against you. Your body started to smoke. “Okay, hot stuff, try not to melt my face off. That would be unpleasant.” You took a few deep breaths, lowering the temperature of your body until the scent of smoke faded.
That didn’t last long. Your hair sparked and smoked as a tongue traced abstract shapes through the fabric of your underwear. Your breath hitched—Wade as a fucking tease. Your body felt like it was growing too hot. Jesus—your head fell back as Wade’s hands pulled the fabric of your panties to shreds, leaving no barrier between his tongue and your flesh.
His tongue was magic, and you’d be damned if you allowed him to stop using it. Up and down, tracing letters, the flat of his tongue teasing over sensitive skin and even delving in deeper than you’d anticipated. “Wade,” you moaned, hips grinding downward. If the mercenary had any qualms, he didn’t voice them, just encouraged you to continue.
You came suddenly, head bubbling up in your stomach before exploding to send electricity down your legs and through your fingertips. Your hair caught flame again, but sputtered out as your high diminished. You couldn’t feel your legs. Wade laughed into your thighs.
“Don’t tell me you’re all tuckered out,” Wade said as you shifted to sit on his chest. Your breathing remained heavy as you glared down at deep brown eyes.
“I’ll show you tuckered out,” you hissed, fumbling with his red and black suit as he moved to accommodate your ministrations. Your legs refused to budge. “Okay, maybe you should do the moving.” Wade merely grinned.
“Sure thing, hot stuff,” he whispered. You flushed.
“You fucking dick,” you hissed, waiting fairly patiently as he rolled on a condom and lined himself up properly.
“This fucking dick is going to fuck you with a dick, hun,” Wade said with a grin, allowing you to pull him closer as your legs wrapped around his hips.
“Then get to it already,” you said. Wade’s grin only widened as his hips pistoned in and out. You swore as his hips collided with yours, groaning at the sensation of being both full and empty simultaneously. Your lips met his roughly, his hands trailing south. You clawed at his skin, a low groan filling the air before rumbling away.
His fingers were on your clit. Your thoughts stuttered. His fingers were on your clit, and moving. Quickly. Very quickly. “You motherfuc—” You didn’t get to finish your sentence. The train you called your climax had you breathless, and as you tightened around Wade, he was hit by it, too. His thrusts grew more shallow as the you relaxed, and halted altogether after a few more moments.
Rai's fingers had been light against Nysel's skin, brushing here and there as though he could hardly believe the diplomat was real. The rough pads of fingers traced the edge of Nysel's jaw, the line of their throat, and dipped to press against exposed collar bones before returning to the side of Nysel's cheeks. Nysel leaned into Rai's hands, eye half glazed.
Rai was fascinated with the movement of Nysel's fingers as they intertwined with his hands. The two were still for a moment before Nysel surged forward. "I'm not a patient person," they said roughly, pressing their lips firmly against Rai's. "Not where you're concerned." Rai laughed, his head tilting back as Nysel gained access to his throat, nipping and sucking at the exposed skin. He pushed the two of them back onto the bed.
Nysel grunted slightly at the impact with the bed, sinking slightly into the soft mattress, but Rai provided an excellent distraction. The guard hovered carefully over them, kissing Nysel with slow, measured movements as if time had stopped. Nysel tangled their fingers into his short-cropped hair.
Nysel's hands wandered purposefully. They slid underneath Rai's suit, pushing the heavy material out of the way and pushing the jacket off the edge of the bed. Long fingers slipped buttons free before exploring Rai's exposed skin. The guard gave an appreciative groan.
"Are you sure you want this?" Rai asked breathlessly, the orange of his eyes consumed by the darkness of his pupils.
"Are you?" the diplomat returned, heart racing. Rai reconnected their mouths forcefully, swallowing Nysel's moan. Nysel flipped so Rai lay beneath them. He looked good like this, Nysel thought with a grin. Rai was open and exposed, his cheeks flushed and his chest rising and falling rapidly. Nysel ground their hips into his.
The moan that ripped from Rai's mouth went straight to their hips. Nysel bent down, kissing Rai forcefully before exploring lower. Nysel's mouth examined smooth muscle, a trail of bright red left in its wake as if to chart Nysel's movements. Rai groaned at the scrape of Nysel's teeth against his skin, wriggling slightly at the sensation of Nysel's mouth against his nipples before the diplomat trailed lower.
Rai grasped Nysel's chin and pulled them up again, pressing firmly at their mouth before tugging at their shirt. Nysel pulled back to throw the offending article from sight before returning. Nysel promptly found themselves pressed against the mattress.
Rai paused for a moment, examining his charge. Nysel looked utterly debauched—lips swollen, eye glazed, face flushed—reaching for him as though Rai was something precious. "You shouldn't be doing this with me," Rai murmured, pressing his lips to the column of Nysel's throat. "Another person like you would be better." Nysel jerked beneath him before holding his face gingerly.
"There's no one else I'd want to do this with," Nysel said quietly. "Only you." Rai searched their face carefully, appeared to find what he was looking for, and bit down on the junction of Nysel's neck and shoulder. Nysel gasped before allowing a low moan past. Rai only released the spot when a bright red mark was visible, then kissed it gently in apology before moving lower.
Nysel thought Rai's mouth to be uncannily skilled. The blooming bruises left behind were becoming more pleasant to receive, and the sensation of Rai's fingertips pressing hard into their hips made Nysel grind against him. Rai stripped Nysel of their pants in one fluid motion.
For a moment, Nysel felt fear. They'd never told Rai their sex, never thought to give him warning. Rai was studying them intensely. "It's okay," Rai murmured, kissing Nysel with slow, gentle movements. "You're okay. We're okay." His hips ground firmly into Nysel's with measured control. "If you want to stop, we can."
Nysel answered by reaching down and unbuckling his pants. Rai grinned into Nysel's neck before moaning when long fingers brushed against the clothed length of his erection. They moved timidly, attempting to see what Rai liked best before moving with greater confidence. Rai shimmied clumsily from his pants.
Rai ground himself into Nysel's hand for a few moments, seeking greater friction before pulling back. He wanted Nysel's head thrown back in pleasure; he wanted to see the diplomat who kept everything together fall apart beneath his hands. Judging by the growing dampness of Nysel's underwear, it may not take long. Rai bent down, tracing the outline of Nysel's dick before sucking through the cloth. Nysel's fingers grasped at his hair, legs spreading wider to allow more Rai more room to work. Their moans cascaded forth, lyrical to Rai's ears as he felt Nysel twitch beneath him, struggling not to rub against his face. "Tell me what you want," Rai said quietly, mouthing at Nysel's cock. The diplomat felt painfully hard, hips jerking with each languid stroke of his tongue.
"You," Nysel said with a groan. It was hard to focus with Rai between their legs, and harder to speak. Nysel looked down to see Rai examining them carefully. "Please." The guard grinned.
"Good," he said, rising to kiss Nysel again. Nysel's legs wrapped around Rai's waist to force his hips back against theirs.
"Please," Nysel breathed, nipping at the side of Rai's neck.
"Do we have any—"
"Drawer." Rai's raised an eyebrow. "Baird." He couldn't help but chuckle at that. Of course Baird would've.
It was difficult to actually get the bottle when Nysel bit and sucked at every available inch of sensitive skin, and harder to uncap it when Nysel mouthed at his dick like they were starving. His underwear was forced out of the way before the wet heat of Nysel's mouth enclosed him. Rai let out a long string of swears. Nysel began to bob, sucking hard as they pulled back, tongue licking at anything within reach. Rai's hands shook too hard to do anything with the bottle besides keep it from falling. "Nysel," Rai moaned, hands grasping at the diplomat's hair. "Dear god." Apparently, Nysel appreciated that. They gave a low hum that sent vibrations down the length of his cock and made it twitch in their mouth.
Rai was on the brink of orgasm when he recalled what it was he'd planned to do, and pulled Nysel from his cock. Nysel's mouth released it with an obscene pop before they looked up at him. Rai had the momentary concern that Nysel was going to eat him whole, but it faded once they gave a breathless noise of need. "I'm gonna explode," Nysel groaned, kissing Rai. He could taste the bitterness of his precum on their tongue.
"I can take care of that," he whispered, nipping their lip briefly. "Lay back." Nysel followed the command instantly, chest heaving. Apparently Nysel had been enjoying themselves as much as Rai had—the stain on the front of their underwear had spread, and as Rai removed Nysel's last article of clothing, the diplomat's cock drooled precum.
Nysel ground against empty air, feeling desperate for release. The cool air was an uncomfortable sensation, rivaled only by the feeling of Rai's lube-coated fingers. The first one was uncomfortable, but easily ignored after a few moments. The second one had burned, and Nysel jerked at the intrusion. "I know, I'm sorry," Rai murmured, placing an apologetic kiss to the inside of Nysel's thigh. He moved slowly, doing his best to allow Nysel to adjust properly before adding another finger.
Nysel's length had softened somewhat at the foreign sensation at their opening. Rai bent down to run his tongue up its underside, and was rewarded with a groan from Nysel's throat and a strong jerk of their hips. Rai's fingers carefully stretched and pressed when Nysel's back arched from the bed, a string of Candrian tainting the air.
"Someone liked that," Rai teased, pressing again. The heady moan that followed Nysel's voice was exhilarating.
"Please," Nysel chanted, feeling they might burst. "If you do it again—" Rai offered a predatory grin. Nysel's cock twitched at the sight, oozing precum more freely.
"Maybe that's the goal," Rai said, biting at the inside of Nysel's thighs.
"But you're not as close," Nysel replied, grinding down onto Rai's fingers at their sudden stillness.
"I can wait a little longer." Nysel was coherent for all of two seconds before arching off the bed, nearly screaming in Candrian once more. Thick spurts of white marked their climax, pooling on their stomach as Rai weaned them from their high. Nysel was still practically babbling in a mixture of two languages when Rai kissed them, withdrawing his fingers. "Are you okay?"
Nysel gave a low groan, eye shut, before appearing to check back in mentally. "Yes," they murmured, pulling Rai back down. "You? What about you?" Rai chuckled.
"I think I just saw something beautiful," he said, lips brushing Nysel's. The diplomat reddened.
"Maybe we should see if you look half as good," Nysel teased, finally beginning to feel their legs again.
"Only if you want," Rai replied. Nysel gave a sedated smile before spreading their legs.
"Do your worst," they said, violet eye glazing over with desire. "I won't break."
"Be careful what you wish for, mo chuisle," Rai stated, pressing his lips against Nysel's throat. "I'm trying to be careful with you."
"Maybe you don't need to be, drágám," Nysel replied. Rai pulled back.
"Drágám?" Rai frowned.
"Have I misspoken?" Nysel asked, concern flood forth.
"I don't know what it means," Rai said.
"It's Candrian," Nysel said, turning red. "It means 'precious.'" Rai stared. "W-what?"
"Let me look at you." Nysel reflexively covered their face. "Please." Nysel allowed Rai to pull their hands away.
"Mo chuisle," Rai whispered. Nysel flushed, uncomfortable with the sudden intensity in Rai's eyes. "Really. You deserve better."
"I could say the same of you," Nysel replied. Rai laughed, eyes crinkling at the corners as he kissed the corner of Nysel's mouth.
"Then you'd be a liar."
"As would you be," Nysel said teasingly. "I guess we're simply meant to be." Rai groaned.
"Shut up," he said, hiding his face in Nysel's neck. Nysel couldn't back down from the challenge.
"Make me." Rai crushed his lips to Nysel's, hunger dominating his expression.
"Are you ready?" Nysel grinned in response.
Nysel had grown half-hard at the sensation of their naked bodies rubbing against each other. It wouldn't hurt, Rai thought, to quicken the rest. He took as much of Nysel's dick into his mouth as possible and sucked. Nysel's hips jerked, a groan rumbling forth at the sensation of Rai's mouth.
"I'm scared to ask where you learned this," Nysel said breathlessly, fidgeting as the sensation of cool liquid spread across their ass. Rai gave a muffled laugh.
"Perhaps you should ask yourself. I'm only doing what you did," he stated. Nysel groaned.
"Gotta love a man that can learn on the job," they murmured.
"If you can still talk, I'm not doing this right." Nysel laughed. They then proceeded to gasp as Rai pressed against their still somewhat oversensitive prostate.
"Give that a minute," Nysel hissed.
"Did I hurt you?" Nysel didn't need to look to know Rai was wearing an anxious expression.
"Still a little too sensitive," they said. "Just—a minute." Rai traced circles on the inside of Nysel's thigh, his lips brushing against their knee until Nysel rolled their hips. "Okay. It should be okay now."
Rai moved cautiously, watching Nysel's face for discomfort. When they gave no hint of anything being painful or even unusual, Rai moved forward, gingerly pressing against Nysel's prostate and continuing to offer light touches to their now-rigid length.
Nysel wasn't sure anything could feel any better. Rai's fingers were easily offering one of the most pleasurable sensations they'd ever known, and the heat of Rai's mouth was threatening to unravel them. Their voice flowed freely now, low rumbles to sharp cries, unmuffled by hands that clutched at sheets as if they were Nysel's only anchor to reality. Nysel's one displeasure, however, was the method in which Rai prolonged their pleasure—each time Nysel felt they were about to hit the brink, to tip over the edge, the guard pulled away. After three times, the diplomat had enough.
"I swear," they hissed, attempting to keep their breath as darkened near-gold eyes looked up at them. "You better shove your fucking dick up my ass right now." Nysel watched, utterly entertained, as Rai's eyes widened, and his pupils grew large.
"Do you say that to everyone you sleep with, Nysel?" he hissed, withdrawing his fingers. The diplomat groaned at how Rai purred their name, grabbing a foil square from somewhere Nysel couldn't see and opening it.
"Just you, you fucking tease," Nysel said, attempting to draw Rai closer by hooking their legs around his back. Rai rolled the condom on.
"Good." Rai allowed himself to be pulled closer, lining himself up with Nysel before looking up once more.
"Dick. Ass. Now," Nysel said, wriggling closer. Rai gave a wolfish grin, but entered with care, stopping as Nysel's face began to frown.
"Tell me when," Rai murmured, pressing a kiss to Nysel's shoulder.
"A little bit more," Nysel said. They continued like this for a few moments, starting and stopping until Rai's hips were flush against Nysel's. The diplomat gave a few breathless laughs, giddy at thought of being physically connected with Rai before rolling their hips. "Move." Rai did as he was told.
"Yes," Nysel gasped, gripping Rai's shoulders as he pulled in and out. "So good." Nysel then blinked as Rai's hips shuddered. "Did someone like that?" they asked teasingly, pressing a kiss to Rai's flushing face.
"I think anyone would like that," Rai said, avoiding eye contact.
"But you like-like it," Nysel whispered, pulling up Rai's face so they had proper access to his lips. "You love it. Better move, big boy. If you do it right, I'll sing your praises."
"Sometimes I think of stabbing you," Rai groaned, resuming his former actions.
"I'm only willing to be impaled on you." Rai shot Nysel a half-hearted glare. He shifted the angle of his hips. Nysel keened.
"Oh, did you like that?" Rai asked innocently.
"Yes," Nysel moaned. "Again, like that." Nysel did almost sing praise for Rai. He watched as the diplomat's vocabulary fell apart, Candrian mingling again with Danthilian. "Please, drágám, please, agai—" A sharp yelp. "Like that—feels so good—"
Nysel was clenching around Rai, and judging by the way their nails were digging into Rai's shoulders, they were close, too. "Nysel—" The diplomat moaned at the sound of their name. "Can I—?"
A brilliant violet eye pinned Rai with a heavy stare. "If you're going to do anything, hurry it the fuck up," Nysel hissed. "I'm not far."
Rai reached between their bodies to grasp at Nysel's cock, stroking it in time with his thrusts. Nysel's eye closed, the slurry of two languages still spilling past their lips. "Drágám—drágám I'm going to—" Nysel swore, shuddering underneath Rai as they climaxed again. Rai followed suit after a few more thrusts, groaning as he stilled. Nysel's fingers played across his face, brushing away beads of sweat and fluttering across his cheekbones.
"Nysel?" Nysel's eyes were still closed, their chest rising and falling. "Nysel, are you okay?" Nysel laughed, opening their eye and kissing Rai.
"Yes, I'm okay," they said. "I can't feel my legs, and I don't want to. What about you?" Rai pulled out, earning a groan from Nysel.
"Don't worry about me," Rai said with a grin. "I wasn't the one who was almost crushed."
"I don't know," Nysel said, grinning back as Rai sat up to clean the two of them off. "Maybe you pulled something in your back with all that hard work." Rai snorted. Rai was efficient in his use of time, wiping up himself and Nysel and retrieving the blankets from where they'd fallen on the floor. Nysel watched him move, admiring the easy movement of Rai's form.
"Come back," Nysel whined, rolling over as their spine cracked loudly. The diplomat groaned. Half-surprised, Rai slipped back onto the bed.
"Is your back okay?" Rai's hand splayed across Nysel's back, gently rubbing at the muscle.
"Keep doing that, and it will be," they replied drowsily. Rai pulled up the blanket, shielding Nysel from the cool air. The diplomat threw an arm over the guard, pulling themselves closer. Rai tensed at the sudden contact, relaxing as Nysel nuzzled into his side. "Have I unlocked the level where I learn your name, or is that after the tenth time we've done this?"
Rai laughed, allowing his arms to wrap around the diplomat. When he was met with no resistance, he lay flush against them. "Rai." Nysel looked up.
"Rai?"
"Rai," he said. "My name is Rai." Nysel grinned.
"It suits you," Nysel murmured. "Thanks, drágám." Rai flushed, and didn't find the courage to respond until Nysel had fallen asleep.
Asha stared at the chaos that had become of her room. Isobel had accidentally summoned a miniature tornado, and it decided that ravaging the room was a particularly fun thing to do. She wasn’t entirely sure that the tornado has been self-aware, but it had certainly seemed so at the time.
Almost everything had been put to rights, but her closet had spewed its contents across the floor as if it had gotten the flu. Asha was not pleased. “Are you sure you’re okay with going in there?” Isobel asked quietly, picking up some of Asha’s clothing and folding it neatly.
Asha’s smile was shaky at best, her eyes half-glazed with what seemed like tears, but she smiled. “Of course,” she answered. “It’s only a closet.” Isobel gave her a level look, one eyebrow slightly raised. Asha sighed. “It’ll be fine. In and out—real quick.” The younger witch offered nothing but some more folded shirts.
Asha took a deep breath and stared at her closet. It wasn’t anything to be terrified of. It was nearly a separate room, a bit small, but easy to organize. She didn’t often enter, normally summoning the clothing in and out of it, but Isobel’s residual magic left her unable to use her own.
Asha entered. She placed the clothes exactly as they belonged, and she turned the wrong way. Thick stones glared her in the face. Her palms began to sweat. Her throat tighten. This felt like another time, another place, another thing she didn’t like—It felt utterly wrong and deserved to be forgotten.
It really was too bad that she couldn’t.
—
The room was dark and smelled like a mixture of old herbs and old sweat. Normally the herbs would smell nice—sage, and lavender, and a hint of vanilla—but they were too faint to cover human odor, and clung only to one side of the room.
There was the outline of a door. It seemed like wood, with thin cracks of light dancing around the edges, painting segments of the floor, an inch of wall, a slice of roof. The sounds of mice squeaking sent metal grating against metal, low and painful and piercing. Someone hit the door, demanded silence, and uttered curses.
The metal itself was cold and unforgiving. It bent and curved, a large bird cage that was barely fit to be used, and was somehow chained to the roof securely enough to keep from crashing to the floor as its occupant attempted to find some way to keep the metal wiring from stabbing into her shoulders. There was no such luck.
Asha felt cold. Cold from the metal, cold from the dark, cold from the room with hardly a shred of insulation to its name. She didn’t know what she was doing here, what she was supposed to accomplish, supposed to provide, supposed to know. All she knew was that the floor was a long way down, the summoning circle wasn’t quite complete, and her stomach had been empty for days. Tears pricked at her eyes.
The humans attempting to become witches kept asking her questions she couldn’t answer. Humans couldn’t wield magic—their bodies had grown intolerant to the substance. Only creatures of magic, creatures from her Side of the Gate were able to use magic. It wasn’t a matter of knowing how to do it—it was a matter of magic being in their nature.
She tried explaining it. She tried saying that humans would have to hire witches or wizards. That no amount of prayer or sacrifice to whatever god these people believed in wouldn’t help them. The humans hadn’t enjoyed it. They said if she told them the truth, she’d get to eat. She’d spoken true—but somehow the food never came. None of these so-called witches were sympathetic in the least.
The window on the wall, ever so slightly below her, allowed in deep blue light. The sky must’ve been clouded over, probably promising rain or snow or sleet. She wasn’t sure what time of year it was anymore. Asha watched it carefully, saw a hooded woman making her rounds around the strange compound, and blinked as raindrops began to catch along the window’s glass. They traced quick streaks before falling to the ground.
The roof groaned slightly with the pattering of rain, echoing dimly about the room. The mice squeaked a little louder. Asha thought she could smell the earth from outside, and maybe a few of the plants that had been planted a few weeks earlier.
The door opened without warning. Warm yellow light cut through the dusty haze, revealing the mostly-complete circle of runes on the floor. One of the witch-women, the tall, black-haired one that always made sure the cage was hit with something, came in through the door. She clicked on a light, drew her hood, and beckoned her witch-sisters inside. Asha thought they were a disgrace.
“We’ll finish this tonight,” the black-haired woman said, her voice cold and calm. “That thing isn’t helping us—” She hit the bottom of the cage, making it rattle and sway. Asha felt sick. “—so we’ll have to perform the summoning.”
The two women who had entered after her nodded slightly, their hoods bobbing from Asha’s view. “We’ve brought the charcoal,” said one.
“And the vanilla,” said the other. The dark-haired witch nodded and glanced up. Her smile was like the blade of a knife. Asha felt herself pale.
The so-called witches had been working on the circle for hours. Asha wasn’t sure why it was so important that they summon a demon. Frankly, anything would do. Apparently demons held the best answers, and they were after the oldest. She was absolutely sure that even if these humans managed to get a demon over to this side, that demon would just take their souls and leave.
The dark-haired witch came and left often, claiming she was preparing an offering for the demon. Asha whole-heartedly believed that she was merely trying to waste time. The woman’s inflated sense of self probably made her think that she was above drawing summoning circles. As for an offering, Asha doubted they had anything a demon would truly want. The ones she had met only wanted the soul of the summoner and nothing beyond that. She hoped the woman was in for a rude awakening.
The women worked on the circle for a few more hours, painstakingly copying runes into the circles, drawing strange shapes in the inner circle, and leaving the center almost entirely blank. Asha wasn’t entirely sure why—they’d need to fill that in eventually. Perhaps they thought that the demon would arrive as soon as the circle was completed. What idiots. Asha didn’t dare breathe a word.
“Bring it down,” the dark-haired woman said upon her twenty-fourth arrival into the room. Two women Asha hadn’t seen before began to fiddle with the chain connected to her cage, and slowly began to lower her.
“She reeks,” one said, her nose scrunching in distaste. “I doubt even a demon would want her.” The dark-haired witch sneered.
“Then you’ll have to fix that,” she replied frigidly. “It’s you or that thing.” Asha felt herself grow smaller.
The second woman grunted as the cage was lowered into her arms. “Did she always weigh this little? She’ll be barely more than an appetizer!” Asha’s heart began to beat faster. She didn’t want to be eaten! No, no, only a handful of demons ate witches and all of them were supposed to be horrendous creatures. She tried to strain against the cage, but found the constant pricking of the sharp metal inside kept her locked in a tight ball, unable to move lest she wish to draw blood. Her eyes filled with tears again.
They carried her through a series of brightly-lit rooms that left her eyes stinging. It smelled nice in here, like cooking meat and warm blankets and hot tea. Her mother’s house had been like this, before she’d been taken. Then again, that was also before the house had burned down. Asha’s insides felt cold.
The two witches brought Asha into a white-tiled room, with a deep tub and a few colored bottles of what she thought was soap of some sort. It had a too-clean scent that made her nose sting. The humans placed her on the floor, unclasped the cage, and lifted the top half from the metal plate beneath. Asha felt her shoulders relax slightly as her body was allowed room to unfurl. It didn’t last long. One of the women stood her up, keeping her from falling as the other took a pair of scissors and cut away at her clothes, leaving them in a heap by a trash bin and then pulling on a knob to draw water. Would they drown her? Why would they cut off her clothes just to drown her?
Cold and bare, she tried to shy away the woman who kept her upright. She promptly fell onto the floor, and found her legs could no longer support the weight of her body. Asha’s gaze toward the door went from hopeful to longing. “Put her in.”
The soft hands that held her earlier picked her up and dropped her roughly in the water-filled tub. It was frigid, sending shivers up her spine and making her try to clamber out. Hands on her shoulders pressed down and kept her still. The other woman—the one with the scissors—grabbed a cloth, poured a syrupy substance on it, and rubbed it so it foamed. She then grabbed at Asha’s arm and began to scrub harshly. The air filled with the scent of lavender.
“What will we do about her size?” the woman behind Asha asked, glancing down at the girl. The tiny witch had grown thin and twig-like, her ribs and elbows and knees sticking out with incredible definition. It was sickening.
“It’s the girl’s own fault,” the scrubbing woman said, her handiwork leaving Asha’s skin red and burning. “We can’t fatten her up in a matter of hours. The demon will make do.” Silence filled the room.
When Asha’s skin was deemed sufficiently clean, they went to work on her hair. It had grown out, knotting on itself and becoming a large mass. The women, having no experience with Asha’s hair, decided the best course of action was to cut the majority of the afro off and see if the rest was cleanable.
Asha squirmed often, the cold water making her shiver, and her skin irritated at contact with air and tub alike. The clippers had made her freeze, and she’d been unable to convince herself to move as her hair was slowly cut until little more than inch-long fuzz remained. “Get the clothes.” Asha swallowed thickly.
They dressed her in a glorified sheet of fabric made to look like a cloak. Thin and white, it hung from Asha’s awkward proportions with equally awkward angles, barely masking her frame. There were no holes for her arms—just one for her head. The rest of the sheet hung to her ankles and bunched around them.
It was colder like this, she thought. The humans placed her back onto the metal plate, curled her up, and placed the top segment of the cage in place again. She was brought back into the dark, damp, cold room, replaced at the ceiling, and left alone in the dark once more. Asha wondered if she was going to be killed. At this point, Asha wasn’t sure if it would be a bad thing, all things considered. She was hungry, and cold, and uncomfortable, and scared.
“Complete the circle,” said a voice that came through the door, probably one of the older human-witches. “And get the cage down. We’ll perform the summoning tonight.” The door to Asha’s room opened, letting light leak in once more before a group of three entered, all of them with graying hair and emotionless eyes. Asha’s blood ran cold.
They lowered her slowly, the chain creaking in distaste at its use, her cage rattling slightly as it swayed to and fro. When she was finally on the ground, a member of the triad grabbed a knife, cut across her palm, and made a dizzying pattern with the liquid that escaped her skin.
Vanilla was brought toward the center and burned, its aroma nearly overwhelming as coils of smoke rose toward the roof. At first, they seemed scattered, merely taking up space and reaching for the edges of the room. As they continued, Asha began to realize that the smoke was doing more than she’d realized—the substance was contained, alive, aware.
She could dimly hear the witches murmuring to each other in low voices, reciting a hymn that she couldn’t place but found to be eerily familiar. It rose and fell like a song, called out to her and shoved her away at the same time. It demanded respect and offered affection. Asha found herself leaning forward to try and catch the words, but found that the humans spoke too softly.
“Blood and toil burn through the night
Send us wretch and send us fright
Down your moon and sun and stars
Boil the pain out from our hearts.”
The triad silenced their chanting for a few heartbeats before resuming it, eyes watching the smoke-figure raptly. It had grown, taller and taller, becoming nearly human in shape until three shoots parted from the main body to become half-stretched wings and a tail. It solidified, gained some amount of color, and then dispersed. The witches grew silent.
“Did we just get refused?” one asked, her voice painfully tight. A second shook her head, lips pursed in a thin line.
“Wait a minute,” she replied. “We may have gotten more than we bargained for.” The room exploded in vanilla-scented smoke, chased by the aroma of burning wood. Asha wondered if it was okay to scream.
The witches had summoned not one demon, but two. There was no way that the demons could possibly be pleased—demons were fickle and territorial and hated sharing summonings more than anything.
“We ask the names of those we have summoned,” said the witch who had cut her palm. The two demons didn’t answer, just turned to stare at each other. Asha then noticed their linked hands.
“You know, this is not what I had in mind when I said we should do something fun,” said the taller of the two demons, running one hand through white hair.
“I wasn’t quite expecting this, either,” said the second, hair the color of flames. The duo turned to look at the trio of human-witches.
“Before you go demanding things of us—” began the white-haired demon. “We’d rather hear what you seem to think you can actually ask of us.” Asha decided the second demon was decidedly male, but the first couldn’t fit in either category.
“We wish to learn of magic,” said one of the witches. Asha rolled her eyes silently. The two demons untangled their fingers as if it physically pained them.
“What do I get in return?” The triad of humans pointed to Asha. The taller demon narrowed their eyes.
“My name is Kel,” they said, ignoring Asha. “I rule Nocturne. With me is Lynn, my paladin.” The demon paused for a few seconds. “We do not accept human sacrifices.”
“She’s of magical blood, my lady,” said one.
“This demon is clearly male, Annie!” hissed another under her breath. Annie paled. The white-haired demon blinked flatly.
“Magic or not, I don’t eat souls,” Kel replied testily. “I mean, they’re fun to steal and stuff, but eating them is more Lynn’s thing. I prefer more worldly pleasures.”
“Regardless of what you wish to do,” said the third woman, who was still nursing her cut hand. “We offer you this girl.” Heavy black boots made their way to Asha’s cage, eventually joined by legs as Kel leaned down and examined the child.
“You would offer a five year old child to an incubus as a play toy?” Kel’s eyes looked flat and hard. Asha shrank back as much as the cage would allow.
“Of course,” the trio said in unison. The young witch watched Kel poke their fingers through the bars and gently prod at her arm.
“That’s the disgusting thing about humans,” Kel said with a sigh, retracting their fingers and watching Lynn’s lip curl in disgust. “They truly have no shame. They’d rather sacrifice an innocent child than themselves. A child to an incubus? Really? Do they have no concept of morality?”
“That’s rich coming from you,” Lynn huffed, eyes pinned to the child in the cage. “Considering what you want to do.” Kel offered a smile full of fangs.
“Lynn, please take the child outside,” they said calmly. “I have business to attend to with these three ladies.” Asha’s heart felt like it was stopping. Was the incubus going to do something to her? Was Lynn going to do something to her? She barely kept the words within her mouth, closing her eyes as the red-haired demon lifted the cage easily with one arm and wound his way out of the strange compound. For the first time in months, Asha found herself outside.
It wasn’t raining anymore. The sky was still dark with clouds, sullen and glaring at the earth. Droplets of water fell from one leaf to another with practiced ease. Asha felt shivers run down her spine.
“Relax.” The demon’s voice startled her, making her skin press against the wire in even more uncomfortable ways. While it was gruff, Lynn’s voice didn’t sound particularly angry. “Kel’s not going to eat you or something. Maybe if you were legal. But then again...They like consent much more than girls trapped in cages.”
Several shrieks were heard from inside, but the noise soon cut off. “We’re gonna be here a while.” Asha released a sigh. “In any case, let’s get you out. That sound okay?” It took Asha a moment that she, for once, was being asked what she wanted. Big brown eyes looked at Lynn with nothing short of wonder. He took it as a yes.
Away came the cage. Asha’s legs stretched out before her, toes wiggling slightly. She blinked up at Lynn silently. “Can you stand?” Asha blinked again, frowned, and shook her head. The demon sighed and picked her up. “My name’s Lynn. The white-haired idiot is Kel.”
Asha frowned slightly, reached up, and gave Lynn’s hair a pull. He scowled slightly. She tried once more. Lynn narrowed his eyes and removed her now-iron grasp on his hair. “Yeah, yeah, you like the hair, but it’s not for pulling. I could set you on fi—” Lynn’s words died in his throat.
“Kel should be done soon. We’ll take you home afterward,” he said with a deep sigh. Asha pursed her lips and wondered if Lynn was telling the truth. She half-hoped it was a lie, considering she’d actually only have some ashes to go back to.
It took Kel an hour to come back out, licking their fingers and offering Lynn a shit-eating grin. “I feel rather full now,” they said cheerfully, eyes bright. “But I saved room for dessert—” Lynn cut Kel off by clearing his throat forcefully.
“What are we doing with the child?” Lynn said, his eyes darting back toward the compound. “And what did you do to those poor women?”
“Oh, they’ll be feeling that a while. They’re sleeping.” Kel loomed toward the child in Lynn’s arms slightly. “As for this little present…” The incubus paused thoughtfully. “Let’s let her come home with us. We might be able to track down her parents.” Asha shook her head.
“What was that?” Lynn asked, frowning. “What part didn’t you like?”
“Was it coming home with us?” Kel suggested. Asha shook her head. “Then...finding your parents?” The small child nodded. Kel frowned slightly and looked to Lynn.
“Your place, your decision,” Lynn said. Kel frowned further, patted the child’s head, and sighed.
“Let’s keep her,” they said quickly. “I mean, Jess could probably use a sibling, and if she doesn’t want to go back, I won’t force her to.” Lynn merely shrugged. “You should be more excited, Lynn! We got a daughter!” The fire demon rolled his eyes.
“You got a daughter, Kel,” he said, a smile playing at his lips. “I’m just making sure you remember to feed her.” Kel gave a shit-eating grin, snapped their fingers, grabbed onto Lynn, and forced the trio into a column of smoke.
_
Asha shook slightly, her hands covering her face before she felt a hand at her back. “Asha?” Isobel said softly, pulling on the older girl’s arm. “Asha, let’s get to the bed, okay?”
Asha followed Isobel blindly, her lips pressed together as she attempted to push down the memory that had surfaced. “Do you want to talk about it?” Asha shook her head. “Okay. Let’s just relax, okay?” Asha nodded silently and flopped onto the bed beside her sister.
“Just for a few minutes,” she said quietly. Isobel snuggled into Asha’s side.
