#rylie | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

k--havok · 2 months

Note

🖊️ for the ask game, for any oc you'd like!

🖊️Body writing? What would they write on their partner(s)? What would they want written on them?

Okay so! This is actually an idea that was floating around for Waking into Divinity! I even wrote a oneshot about it, so I'll go ahead and share that here! It's not writing per se, but demons in Waking into Divinity have special paints they can use on their bodies to amplify or nullify certain feelings and such. There are shapes and specific things they write on themselves in their demonic language, but usually it's related to poetry, sayings, or wishes for good luck.

The oneshot below is a little old in terms of lore, so there are some terms or some worldbuilding that is no longer relevant to the story.

Word count: 6,291 Warnings: Mentions of sex, mentions of violence, old writing Rating: 18+

Rylie sighed, smiling to themselves as they scrolled through old pictures on their phone. They leaned back against the couch, lost in their own thoughts.

“Dinner,” Casrath said as he set a plate down in front of them. “Baked salmon sitting on a bed of asparagus with a glass of chardonnay.”

Rylie glanced up from their phone. “That looks amazing, Casrath. Thank you.”

Casrath grinned at them. “Anything for you, Rylie. I hope my skills have continuously improved for you.”

Rylie flushed. Keeping their phone balanced on one of their knees, they dug into the meal. Their eyes shone as soon as they took a bite of the fish.

“This is amazing. Like… really amazing.” They greedily dug their fork in for another bite.

Casrath chuckled, his own blush gracing the tops of his ears. “Thank you, Rylie. That means a lot to me.”

As the two ate, Rylie continued to glance at their phone, still smiling, and continuously swiping through pictures.

“Everything alright? You’re usually not this quiet.”

“Just enjoying the meal. And-- well, looking at some old pictures is all.”

Casrath tilted his head to the side. “Old pictures?”

“Yeah. When me and my parents went to DisneyLand when I was younger. See?”

Rylie passed over the phone to him. “Um, don’t mind my clear awkwardness and growing pains, okay? I was 16 at the time.”

“You were precious,” Casrath said, flipping through the pictures as well. In all of them, Rylie wore one of the biggest grins he’d ever seen. A pair of mouse ears sat atop their head in most of them.

Younger Rylie had the same beautiful jade eyes, the same cute nose, and that same dazzling smile. Their hair may have been much longer, and their clothes a little ill-fitting, but that didn’t matter to Casrath.

“I loved the Tower of Terror. It was my favorite ride there,” Rylie said. “Everything was amazing, actually. One day I’ll go again.”

Casrath chuckled. “I would take you there, then. If that is what you wish.”

Rylie shook their head, but their grin never fell. “Thank you, Casrath. I honestly miss it… even though I’ve only ever been there once.”

“I understand all too well, trust me.”

Rylie nodded slowly, finishing their food and their wine. They swirled the last dregs of chardonnay around the bottom of the wine glass.

“Hey, Casrath? Do you ever miss Hell?”

“Why, of course. You, and Earth, are most welcoming. But Hell is my home.”

A small tinge of red spread across Rylie’s cheeks. They pointedly looked away from Casrath, and swiped through their phone without really seeing the pictures to give their eyes and hands something to do.

“So-- so I’m guessing… bedding me… isn’t the only reason why you want to take me, right? Or-- or is it?”

Casrath snorted. “That is merely one of many, many reasons, Rylie.” Scooting closer to them, he tapped his knee against theirs. “I would love to show you the lands I’ve conquered, the beauty of my keep, as well as some of the more mystical places. It is not all fire and brimstone, as you put it. There is much beauty there, and is as diverse as Earth, if not moreso.”

“I don’t think I can even imagine all that, but I’d like to try.”

“One day, you won’t have to even imagine,” Casrath murmured. He pressed a tender kiss right above Rylie’s ear.

A shiver of delight raced down Rylie’s spine, but they tried to ignore it.

“What do you miss most?” Rylie asked instead.

Casrath rubbed his chin between two fingers. He relaxed back on the couch. “That… is a difficult question to answer. I miss many things, none more than another.” He wrapped an arm around Rylie’s waist, pulling them closer to him.

Rylie could fight against his kisses, but not his touch. Never his touch. They sunk into his warm side, sighing softly. Casrath felt sturdy, strong, and simply comfortable. Although hard muscle covered every inch of his body, when relaxed, he made for the best of pillows.

“Well, what are some of the things you miss right now? Like… I dunno. On your average Hellish day--” Rylie bit back a small laugh at their own joke, “--what would you be doing after dinner?”

“After dinner? Hm… let me see….” Casrath fell back into his thoughts. He idly rubbed circles with his palm across Rylie’s small love handles.

“I suppose, after dinnertime, I would see to it that everything is as it should be. No incoming attacks, no major or sudden calls from Court, and I would retire and find whatever entertainment I seek in that moment.”

“What sort of entertainment is that?”

“Sometimes blood sports--”

Casrath paused at Rylie’s horrified look.

“--I would not be participating, merely watching. It is a common and popular pastime in Hell.”

“Do, uh, demons actually, you know, die?”

“Well… yes. Of course.”

Rylie blinked slowly. “You know, I’m not ready to unpack that right now or process it. I’ll do so later. Uh, what other entertainment is there? That’s, um, not violent?”

“Well, of course there is popping some bottles of wine open and inviting some friends to the keep for a round of drinks. Sometimes I fly across my land, see whatever sights interest me most. Other times, I wish for more…” Casrath paused, and even his hand halted against them. “I suppose carnal pleasures is a fine descriptor.”

“Ah, sex. Of course.” Rylie rolled their eyes.

“It is not always sex, Rylie. Sometimes I merely like watching--”

“Wait, so you’re a voyeur?”

“Hm? No, no, you misunderstand me.” Casrath chuckled at that. “Why would I watch what I can have for myself?”

“Some people are into it,” Rylie said with a shrug.

“And that is fine for them, but no. I prefer… watching dancers.”

Rylie blinked. Then blinked some more. They sat up and away from Casrath, turning in their seat to peer at him.

“Wait, there are strippers in Hell?”

“Dancers,” Casrath corrected, “is our term, but yes I suppose so. There are many dances that are performed. Some are separate from myself, and I merely watch. Other times… there is a more active role.”

Rylie debated with themselves whether or not they wanted to pursue the conversation. Did they really want to know Casrath’s preferences when it comes to inhumanly beautiful demonic dancers?

Unfortunately for Rylie, their curiosity was one hell of a drug.

“Um, how so?”

“Sometimes I have my concubines dance atop me. Other times, I dance with them. It is… a sensual experience.”

For a full second, Rylie’s brain short-circuited. Concubines. Dancing. On me. With them. Sensual.

Casrath frowned. “Is everything alright? Are-- are you overwhelmed?” Casrath scooted away from Rylie, giving them their distance and personal space back.

“A-- a little bit,” Rylie admitted softly. “I don’t know whether to focus on the dancing aspect, you joining in, or the fact that you have concubines.”

“Well, what would you be the most comfortable talking about?”

“Um, the dancing. Definitely the dancing. Is there, like, poles?”

Casrath chuckled. “No, not exactly. There are many forms of dancing, and all have different requirements. However, no matter the form of dancing, we utilize different paints.”

“Paints? Like on your body?”

“Yes.” Casrath closed his eyes and leaned on his fist. “The paints are usually imbued with magicks. Or, other times, laced with special berries or dyes with… other properties.”

“What sort of properties?”

“Usually the paints enhance pleasure. But other times there are more functional uses, such as giving better stamina, cooling effects, and the like. Some grant enhanced swiftness, and others speed.”

“Sounds like a better use would be for, like, fighting then.”

“They can be used for battle, yes. Our paints--fa’loth is the term--have many, many uses.”

Casrath’s expression--so serene and graceful--pierced Rylie’s chest. Sometimes, they forgot just how far away home was, and how many amenities he was used to having were simply not available.

Rylie couldn’t quite imagine Hell. They couldn’t imagine the scope of his land, the size of his castle, nor much at all. Everytime they tried, Lord of the Rings inevitably popped into their mind.

But Rylie was certain Hell was no New Zealand.

“Yes,” Casrath murmured, more to himself than Rylie. “That is most likely what I would be doing right now.” After stretching his arms out to the ceiling, Casrath climbed to his feet and gathered their empty plates and wine glasses. “But, for now, it is time to do the dishes.”

“Here, let me. Since you cooked,” Rylie said. And before Casrath could object, they took the plates from his hands. “How about you go… and I dunno. You could always go to the club if you want to dance.”

Casrath tilted his head to the side. “Are you certain? I thought you preferred my stay here, rather than out with others.”

Rylie blushed a little at that. “Well, it sounds like you still have some energy left. And you know me, I’m always tired.” Rylie bumped their forehead against his shoulder. Casrath towered so tall above them, that his shoulder was all Rylie could reach with their hands full.

“If you insist. But I shall not be gone all night long. I shall return before dawn, and before you wake.”

Rylie smiled at Casrath. “That’s no problem. Now, go and get ready.”

Casrath chuckled at their impatience. “Perhaps you are simply wanting some quiet, alone time inside. In either case, I do not mind.”

Rylie smiled at Casrath, but didn’t respond.

It was true that sometimes, they did indeed want their quiet time alone. But tonight?

Tonight, Rylie had a plan tumble its way through their thoughts.

As soon as the dishes were washed, Casrath gone, and Beepers settled in for the night, Rylie curled on top of their bed with their laptop.

They didn’t mention it to, well, anyone really, but they had taken pole dancing classes before. Only a handful, before the cost outweighed their food budget. Their curiosity had taken hold of them during that time, and since their parents had already moved by then and weren’t watching their every move, Rylie thought it would be a fun activity they could try.

Fun was the best descriptor for their time pole dancing. The second was exhausting. The last, expensive. But all of it was totally worth it.

They didn’t have a pole in their apartment to dance on. And besides the basics, they didn’t know too much. But with the slight knowledge of exotic dancing as a backbone, Rylie figured it wouldn’t be too hard to google around for some tips on lap dancing.

Rylie didn’t bother to pretend it was the wine causing them to think in such a way. Living for so long with someone so incredibly handsome, who had the best kisses and touches, and who always knew what to say to make their knees weak left Rylie reeling.

Their stomach twisted with a mess of butterflies and nerves as Rylie fought to keep their focus on the task at hand. They didn’t have long, but they wanted to do this impromptu… dance routine right the first time.

Getting up from their laptop, Rylie dug through their dresser before finding, stashed at the very bottom, a set of Victoria's Secret lingerie with tags still attached. With it in hand, they meandered into their bathroom. They didn’t keep much makeup on hand--they barely had a use for the stuff. However, after digging through one of the many messy bathroom drawers, Rylie dug out an old set of Halloween makeup hidden beneath cotton swabs they did indeed use inside their ears along with the extra free toothbrushes as given by their dentist.

Rylie barely glanced at the date as they tore into the red, orange, green, and black body paints and glitter. Glitter held no interest for them, but they greedily grabbed the red, orange, and black.

Rylie avoided looking at themselves in the mirror as they undressed. They couldn’t afford losing their courage and confidence now. Not after tasting phantom kisses on their lips and with heat already pooling in the lowest pit of their stomach.

Keeping their head down, Rylie cut the tags off the unused lingerie. An impulse buy with the aid of Jess whispering terrible decisions into their ears as well as a sale, Rylie regretted it as soon as they had gotten home with the little lacy number. Black on black, the bra had not just loops of lace and frills, but an underwire with plenty of padding. Unlike their sports or even balconette bras, this one had a deep plunge in the center. The underwear matched, of course, with high-waisted black straps separate from the lacy piece. As the only thong in their closet, Rylie found themselves more than a bit mystified as they slipped it on over their rear.

A deep sigh worked its way between their lips. They wiggled and squirmed as they fought to get the unrelenting bra over their head without having to undo the strap in the back.

Rylie hated the “swing it around” method. It always rubbed rough against their skin and nipples.

Still keeping their head down, Rylie bit their lip. Did they dare look up into the mirror?

They already know what they would see. A fat slob. Unproportionate, with a belly that hung just a little too over the hem of the panties. Their breasts already felt off in the plunge bra as well. It felt like every movement would cause them to pop out in the front. And already, the tops of their breasts were spilling out.

Rylie sighed through their nose slowly before peering up at themselves.

Flush with heat and wine, Rylie froze as they stared at themselves.

Indeed, their hair sat messy atop their head. Their skin remained blotchy. But the underwear didn’t hide in their chub rub or thick thighs. The high bands accented their hips, while simultaneously the black color slimmed their ass and breasts down.

The bra was ill-fitting, but for once was too tight, not way too big. Victoria’s Secret was always weird in its sizing, Rylie supposed. They turned around, and bit their lip at the sight of their entire exposed butt.

They had to admit, it did make their ass look good. And although the bra shoved their breasts up an uncomfortable amount that Rylie was not used to, they found that they didn’t… hate the set as they so vehemently thought they would.

In fact, although the bra was ill-fitting, the thong remained surprisingly comfortable. They already didn’t feel the string, and it reminded them of not wearing any underwear at all, almost.

Rylie smiled softly at themselves in the mirror. “Who knew,” they murmured to themselves.

Grabbing the black Halloween makeup first, Rylie tilted their head in thought as they squirted a little of the paint onto the tip of their finger. Not dry, but definitely getting up there in age. Best to use it now then later, they supposed.

In a way its saving money. Rylie chuckled.

After debilitating a little too long at themselves in the mirror, Rylie decided to use the black on their eyelids in a mockery of eyeshadow. Afterwards, they grabbed their cheap eyeliner and slapped it on as well.

The green of their eyes popped against the black background of their eyes and… outfit. They hesitated before adding any more. What else could they do that wouldn’t look too stupid and costume-y?

They stood alone in the bathroom for several minutes on end, going back and forth as to what to do. A quick Google search also brought nothing useful to the table, either. Rylie couldn’t quite understand what Casrath wanted and would look for.

Furthermore, they didn’t want to assume. It was his culture, not theirs, after all.

After a short and quick two-step pace in the bathroom, Rylie gathered up the costume makeup and instead left to the living room to put them on the coffee table.

Digging out a packet of tea lights Casrath bought just in case the power went out again, Rylie set them up around the apartment. Checking the clock, Rylie waited another ten minutes before lighting all of them.

Several sat on the bar guarding the kitchen, four boxed in the line of costume makeup they left on the table for Casrath to use as he wished on them, and several more on the windowsill and next to the TV. After flicking the lights off, a hazy glow rose from the little candles, bathing the room in small and smokey clouds of light yellow. The flames flickered and danced, casting soft and playful shadows against the walls and furniture.

Rylie bit their lip as their heart thudded in their chest. It had taken them nearly three hours. It was almost time.

Their hands shook as they sat on the couch, curling one leg under another and leaning back. Rylie couldn’t quite fight the urge to bounce their leg. Biting their lower lip, a sudden small wave of nausea grew as the minutes stretched on.

Perhaps they had too much wine to drink. Way too much. Or perhaps it was somehow laced with something. Casrath would never do something so devious. Or would he?

No, Rylie shook themselves, he would never.

A tide of gooseflesh rose across their arms. They shivered. The candles brought barely any heat, and Rylie never liked sitting in practically no clothes at all. No insulation meant no heat.

As a child, Rylie never thought through their decisions. They would always act before thinking, and would sometimes act through several steps of a process before realizing how wrong they were. Such as in science class, when they measured their baking soda and vinegar wrong to the point where the mixture bubbled over and across their table. Or, even worse, when they thought Maxwell Grant liked them since he kept pulling on their ponytail. Just the idea of a boy liking them, at that time, caused them to have a crush.

The fallout of their confession of that elementary school crush still sometimes popped up in their nightmares.

Now, Rylie found themselves sitting on a precipice. If they didn’t stop now, didn’t blow out all the candles, run into their room, change, and clean up quickly, the point of no return would come and go without them. And they would fall.

Muscles tensed, Rylie sat up. All too soon, however, that familiar creak of the front door echoed through their apartment.

Panic surged through them. Gripping the edge of the couch, Rylie’s eyes darted around. Grabbing a blanket off the end of the couch, they flung it around themselves, blocking the sight of their body as Casrath poked into the apartment.

He blinked slowly, looking around at the candles before his eyes settled on Rylie. A soft smile tugged at his lips.

“What’s all this?” he asked.

Tongue-tied and still vibrating with anxiety, Rylie shrugged, unable to form words. They tugged the blanket tighter around themselves.

Casrath moved smoothly over to their side, gliding across the carpet. He took off his leather jacket and hung it next to theirs on the wall.

Rylie couldn’t stop their eyes from drifting to how his plain orange tee-shirt hugged his biceps all too tightly. Their body, already heated, flushed further. The fact that he wore his jeans way too low on his sculpted hips also didn’t help. As Casrath sat besides them, Rylie caught the whiff of alcohol on his breath.

But no musk. No sweat. No stench of sex clung to his body like a second skin. No lipstick stains covered swollen lips. Besides a soft blush and his easy smile, nothing else seemed out of place.

Casrath eyed them and the costume makeup on the table. He shifted closer to Rylie, wrapping an arm around them.

“Your eyes are mesmerizing in this light,” he whispered to them, his voice dark and husky. “And you painted them.” His fingers caressed their cheek, leaving ghostly trails of heat.

That damned frog remained in Rylie’s throat. They nodded, unable to meet his gaze.

Casrath hummed to himself. His fingers traveled lower to their neck, and he traced circles all the way down to the soft spot between their throat and their clavicle.

Rylie tensed as Casrath thumbed the erogenous zone. A shiver danced up their spine.

His eyes, heavy-lidded and dark with desire, flashed. “May I kiss you?”

“Yes,” Rylie finally said. Their voice came out cracked from disuse and nerves.

Casrath leaned in, dusted his lips over theirs, before dipping his head down and kissing at that small spot he just thumbed.

Shocks of desire raced through Rylie’s body. A small sigh escaped and they tilted their head to the side, allowing Casrath further access to their throat as he bathed them in small kisses. His tongue darted out, swirling against every particular sensitive spot, leaving Rylie wanton.

Their speechlessness finally broke, Rylie licked their lips with their dry tongue. “Cas?”

“Hmm?” he murmured against their throat as he nuzzled them.

“R- Remember our conversation from- from earlier? Today? Before you- Before you left?”

“Of course. I remember all our conversations, Ree.”

Rylie’s brain short circuited again briefly. Mentally shaking themselves, they continued, “well… I know you miss your home and- and such and- well- you see. You see, I wanted to- wanted to do something nice for you. And you know, I thought. I thought, um--”

Casrath leaned in and silenced them with a long kiss. His tongue darted against their lower lip.

Rylie moaned, and Casrath swallowed it gleefully. He nipped their tongue as Rylie tried to return the previous gesture.

They pulled back with a small gasp, their face glowing pink, and peered up at him shyly.

His voice, deeper than before, resonated with a dark timbre. “Will you be dancing for me, Rylie?”

Rylie nodded, unable to find their words yet again.

Casrath released them, and stood up to push the coffee table away from the couch to allow Rylie plenty of space. As he did so, he picked up the costume makeup.

“I- I didn’t quite know what- what you wanted so… I know its not the same and the makeup is old but….”

Casrath held out a hand for them.

Rylie hesitated. If they stood up, the blanket would fall away. They gulped.

“Do you trust me?” he asked.

“It’s not a matter of trust.”

Rylie hesitated again.

“It’s a matter of tempered expectations.”

Casrath sighed through his nose. “What do you think my expectations are?”

Rylie looked away, frowning. “Whatever beautiful men, women, and enbies you had in Hell. Stronger, faster, with more stamina than any human.” Rylie scrunched up their nose. “Probably fitter and more flexible too.”

Casrath’s hand remained hovering in the air.

“And yet,” he said, “I have never had the pleasure of my tal’rith dancing for me. Nor the pleasure of a human doing so much to accommodate my needs and understand my culture.

Rylie shrugged again. “That’s… that’s just the bare minimum, though.”

“Not to me,” Casrath said.

Rylie stared at his proffered hand, their heart thumping hard in their chest, and a bead of sweat rolling down the side of their temple. A burst of energy coursed through them, tensing their leg muscles. Far from the type to run, Rylie knew that, in that moment, they could have sprinted with ease.

Rylie slid their hand into Casrath’s.

No more running.

Rylie pulled themselves to their feet with Casrath’s assistance. The blanket fell away, revealing every inch of skin. Immediately, Rylie looked down at their bare feet, their entire face glowing in another blush as a second bead of sweat traced down the back of their neck.

“Rylie.” Casrath’s fingers tilted their chin up. His eyes bore into their own.

They bit their lip, gulping again, shivering and sweating at the same time.

For once, Casrath struggled to speak. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, then breathed their name a second time. His eyes roamed over their face before dropping to the rest of their body. Rylie tensed, curling their shoulders in on themselves, and crossing their arms over their pelvis.

Breasts were breasts. But any further….

Casrath gathered them in his arms, pulling them close to his body before diving down to press a kiss against their lips.

This kiss-- oh.

Rylie gasped, parting their lips for him to explore their mouth. They moaned again, pressing their own tongue against him to taste him back. This kiss-- this kiss had heat. It had teeth, as Rylie took the initiative for the first time, and nibbled on Casrath’s lower lip.

This time, it was Casrath who gasped. And as he pulled away slightly, Rylie pressed onward. A surge of confidence filled them as they pressed their tongue into his mouth.

Casrath’s mouth ran hotter than their own. The tips of his fangs brushed against them as they tasted alcohol on his breath, the scent of ash, and something woody and natural beneath. Almost like pine, but just off enough to give them pause. Casrath did not proceed in the opening Rylie gave him, but continued to allow them to explore his mouth just as fervently.

All the while, his hands traveled down their back. He stroked their hips, running his hand from the top of that second black band, down the flesh it pinched outward and accented, and further down to their lower hip and leg. His hands circled back around, and ghosted up the round hill of their ass.

Rylie tensed for a squeeze that didn’t happen.

Pulling away, Rylie gasped as the need of air overcame their own desires. They panted, staring up at Casrath with wide and wild eyes.

The strange and sudden confidence didn’t diminish. It still worked its way through them, touching every nerve. For once, Rylie didn’t allow their brain to run freely ahead of them. They acted before thinking, grabbing Casrath’s hands and spinning the two of them around as to switch their positions.

Casrath fell back against the couch, sinking into it. He spread his legs out and stared up at Rylie. They recognized that look of lust and hunger, with his lip partially curled, exposing a bit of his fangs.

Perhaps the wine from earlier had been a good idea, Rylie mused for just half a second before realizing, with one last thought, that they had almost forgotten the music.

“Casrath,” Rylie murmured, and the voice which came from their mouth was unrecognizable to them; dark, heavy with want, and smooth. “Would you mind putting some music of your choice on? Something… slow.” They tossed their phone to him.

Casrath easily caught the phone mid-air. After a bit of fiddling, a low, sultry tune slunk its way out of the tiny speakers. Piano-based, but with a hint of string and a saxophone. He set the phone down to the side.

“Perfect,” Rylie said, and they proceeded to shut the rest of their thoughts out.

They placed their hands on Casrath’s knees, and slid their body between them. Shifting their weight from foot-to-foot, they shook their hips back and forth.

A long sigh escaped from Casrath’s nose as Rylie used their fingers to walk their hands up his legs, bobbing their head and shaking their hips in-time to the slow, waltzing music. Before their hands reached his crotch, they let go, standing back up to instead drag their own fingers down the side of their face, and then further down the side of their breast.

Rylie allowed their eyes to fall shut and submitted themselves to the will of the music. They continued to dance, following altered steps of their previous pole-dancing class. The steps remained small as they danced closer and closer to Casrath, trailing their own hands down their body, across their face, chest, and hips.

As they opened their eyes, Rylie reminded themselves that they were not the flexible type before trying to fling their leg over his shoulder. Instead, they slid their leg against the outside of Casrath’s, leaning forwards, and planting their knee next to his hip.

Rylie sighed softly against Casrath’s lips, which now were only a few inches away.

Casrath fidgeted. His eyes continued to roam over their entire body. His chest rose and fell in his own hard pants as he sat, tensed as a bow string.

Rylie shot him a cheeky grin.

That broke Casrath. He lunged forward, hooking his fingers around their hips, and dragging them onto his lap and into another dizzying kiss. A growl mingled with a purr rumbled in his chest, nearly drowning out the music. He ravaged Rylie’s lips, but rather than submitting, Rylie’s own deluge of an attack met him.

They bit back harder, rubbed their tongue just as hard against his, and kissed his lips just as swollen as theirs. Rylie locked their fingers behind his neck, leveraging themselves to better position themselves on his lap.

Casrath shifted beneath them as well, pulling them ever closer into his chest. Rylie’s knees sat outside Casrath’s upper thighs and their clothed crotch sat right above his own.

With their heart still beating hard in their throat, Rylie pulled away from Casrath to gasp for air. Their hands and body no longer shook with unwarranted shivers.

Casrath’s purr remained, and he rubbed circles into their hips with his warm palms. The touch was neither soft nor too rough.

They sat back, peering down at Casrath with their head cocked to the side, barely a thought sparking in their mind.

Casrath stared up at them with ever darker eyes. That demonic orange flame within raged, but for now, remained contained.

The music, that soft piano, teasing string, and playful sax, still swirled around the both of them.

Rylie smirked. Catching the beat of the music, they shifted their weight back and forth, a slow start to build to a full gyration.

Casrath released a long, low moan at Rylie’s machinations. As Rylie rocked their hips back and forth along Casrath’s crotch, they trailed their fingers across his clothed chest, tracing nonsense shapes into the fabric. They watched, enraptured, as his eyes fluttered close and his lips parted yet again as another moan escaped from him.

Heat pooled in their lower belly, and Rylie felt something unfamiliar, but all too knowable, shift beneath them as he hardened. It brought yet another smirk to Rylie’s lips, but this one a little more uncertain.

When Casrath’s eyes flashed open, Rylie braced themself to be flipped around, for those lips to crash into theirs and for him to seize and conquer them. But instead, Casrath leaned in, and traced his nose against their own. His hands left their hips as he picked up the fallen costume makeup from the couch, and popped the lid open.

“May... I- I paint you?” Casrath breathed against their lips. His words bled into his heavy pants.

Rylie merely nodded.

Casrath squirted orange paint onto his fingers. He rubbed his fingers together, smoothing and thinning out the paint, before reaching up to brush his fingers along Rylie’s neck.

Rylie shivered as the cold paint met their heated flesh.

Rylie couldn’t see what Casrath was doing, but they could feel his fingers as he painted long, jagged lines down either side of their throat. He curled those lines toward their clavicles, before lifting his fingers, and then painting an unrecognizable, geometrical symbol.

Casrath continued his own machinations, trailing his fingers to continue similar symbols on Rylie’s shoulders and down their arms. Rylie glanced down, watching as Casrath curled the paint around their biceps before drawing the same symbol on the back of their hands.

The symbol was a simple one; a polygon with 6 sides, and yet in a shape similar to that of a Valentine heart. A dot between the sqggggggggggggguncertainty hitting them like a freight train. Up to this point, without a mirror, Rylie easily ignored the presence of their stomach. They didn’t have to look and see how it hung over the hem of their panties. Nor did they have to pay attention to how it already pressed forward and into Casrath’s own muscular front before even their breasts did.

Not that they wanted that. A flatter stomach by itself would have been fine.

Slowly, Rylie squeezed their eyes and shook their head back and forth. No. Not right now. Not when they had been on top for so long--

“Okay,” Casrath murmured, and his lips ghosted against Rylie’s once more in a tender kiss. The cold touch of his painted fingers brushed along their hips and thighs. “Is this better then?”

Rylie nodded. They leaned their forehead against Casrath’s. Carefully, with Casrath guiding their hips as he painted them, Rylie started to gyrate their hips once more.

It was hard not to brush against his erection. Contained by thick denim against the side of his leg, everytime Rylie found themselves accidentally brushing their wet panties against it, Casrath shuddered. Using his shoulders as leverage, Rylie once again caught the wave of the looping music, and dove back into their wicked dance.

Rylie played with Casrath’s hair as he decorated their body further with the red costume makeup. This time, he added details to the orange markings, crossing over the previous orange lines in twisted and detailed filigree. Casrath traced a line of red following their temples down to their jaw, curving beneath and connecting it to the orange alongside the sides of their neck.

His heavy breathing continued to billow against their face with every shared touch.

And as Rylie found themself lost within the sensation of his hands and the music, a soft moan slipped past their lips as they continuously ground against Casrath’s need.

Then, he started to grind back. He snapped his hips upwards, rubbing himself back against them.

God.

Heat pooled in their own core, winding it tighter and tighter.

And as Casrath reached around to grab a massive handful of their ass, squeezing hard and pushing them down against him harder, Rylie found themselves whimpering softly at their own need.

Their eyes flashed open. They were not the fittest, and as such, already their hips and knees were beginning to hurt with the effort of keeping themselves upward.

Casrath didn’t close his eyes, nor did they leave Rylie’s form. He raked his sight up and down their body as he continued to squeeze and fondle their ass, pressing them further down into him. He leaned in, but rather than kiss their lips, he instead nipped their clavicle before moving downwards to press the flat of his tongue against the tops of their breasts.

He dragged his tongue in a long, sizzling lick across the top of their chest. He pressed another kiss between their breasts, right where their cleavage began.

Rylie threw their head back as Casrath dragged another moan out of them.

“We- we need to stop. I- I mean. I don’t want to but--” Rylie panted.

A growl rumbled in Casrath’s chest, but with a long sigh, he pulled back. His eyes remained dark, his eyebrows drawn in, and his mouth parted in heavy breaths.

“Yes. Yes, I-- if we do not….”

Casrath wrapped his arms around Rylie. He shifted their weight, tucking them into his chest. He buried his face into the top of their head, breathing deeply.

“...If we do not, I will not be able to stop myself any longer from taking you right here,” Casrath murmured.

Rylie flushed, but they nodded. “Oh.” They bit back their words, their begs for Casrath to give in for once. For him to flip them around, pull off his pants, and for him to fuck them right into the couch.

No, Rylie told themself. We can’t. Not yet. It’s not time yet.

“You-- you are a devious one, Rylie Hill,” Casrath said with a small chuckle underlining his words. He easily picked Rylie up off his lap to instead tuck them into his side rather than on his noticeable erection.

“Only sometimes,” Rylie said. The smirk didn’t drop from their lips. “I- I don’t know if I did anything right. I’ve never really given anyone a, uh, lapdance before. But- but I wanted to do something nice for you. I don’t know.” They looked away as their senses came trickling back, and with it, embarrassment. “Sorry if I was heavy.”

“Rylie….” Casrath leaned his cheek on the top of their head. Picking the blanket up off the ground, he draped it over the both of them before turning the music off and hugging Rylie close.

“You were wonderful. I do not have words in this language to explain how much what you did means to me. Nor do I have words to express just how much I enjoyed you.”

Rylie flushed. “Um, I don’t think you need words….” they glanced down at Casrath’s now covered lap.

Casrath chuckled. “Indeed. But no, you are not heavy to me at all, Rylie. I am much stronger than I look.” He nuzzled the top of their head. “I- I know you will want to wash up soon, but- but do you mind staying here, with me, for a little longer?”

Rylie smiled softly. “Oh, Cas….” They turned, and pressed the smallest of kisses against his lips. “I don’t want to leave yet either. I can wash up in a little bit.”

Casrath’s purr grew louder. He picked Rylie up to put them back in his lap, but this time he held them almost bridal-style -- settling their head against his shoulder.

“Perfect.”

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