Divine Scanchuary

UDW: Faction Wars

Few things in the world could align to make such a spell possible, yet Angel was powerful in ways that few could understand, and with each potent drop of his precum, the bond that they shared was made stronger. In this place, they were equals, prince and alpha, not the master familiar alliance that fate decided. Rico moaned as he was impaled by each of the devastating inches of the hybrid, each of which brought him more pleasure. He moaned, losing control of his power or tapping into it more as two sets of fangs appeared

Dacre moaned more, tangling his hands in Howell's hair. Dacre's head fell back as he moaned and his cock was rock hard and leaking against Howell's forehead.

Howell savored every lick and swirl of his tongue. Relishing hearing Dacre moan for him, his own cock twitched, pulling back when he simply couldn’t take it anymore. He slowly licked from the pulsing muscle, up Dacre’s shaft betting swallowing him whole.

for a moment there, garam forgot how to speak. it happened the second angel's fingers touched his hair. the gesture was so simple. innocent, even. but nobody had ever done things like that for him without wanting something in return. not really. his gaze dropped briefly, following the path of angel's hand as it settled back against the counter. let's eat. i need you to eat at least one full pancake. the corner of garam's mouth twitched upward. "one whole pancake?" he repeated. "you're a ruthless roommate." the teasing came easily enough. the rest didn't. make sure you started the day knowing someone was thinking about you. his smile faded. not completely. just softened. garam held angel's gaze for a moment longer, trying unsuccessfully to ignore the way his chest felt strangely tight. someone was thinking about you. the words shouldn't have affected him this much yet, somehow, they did. more than breakfast. more than coffee. more than waking up to messages waiting for him. because angel hadn't done any of this to impress him. he hadn't done it because he felt obligated. he'd done it because he cared. the realization settled somewhere deep and uncomfortable. comfortable, too. a dangerous combination. "you know," garam began quietly, his eyes dropping to the coffee angel had prepared the way he liked it, "you're making it really difficult for me to maintain my reputation as an independent adult." his attempt at humor lacked its usual confidence. he reached for the mug, wrapping both hands around it, mostly to give himself something to do. the warmth seeped into his fingers. just like angel's apartment. just like angel. his throat tightened unexpectedly. "thank you." the words came out softer than intended. real, no jokes attached. no deflection, just gratitude. for the breakfast, for the camera, for the door, for staying. for all of it. garam finally stepped back, giving angel room to move, though he found himself reluctant to create the distance. "fine," he relented with an exaggerated sigh. "i'll eat your giant pancake." he finally retreated to the table. the confidence he'd managed to fake moments ago didn't survive the walk. as soon as he sat down, the pancakes became a problem. garam stared at them. there was nothing wrong with them. they looked good, they smelled good. angel had gone out of his way to make them for him. that was the problem. his stomach twisted. a familiar voice surfaced immediately, cruel and relentless. you don't deserve this, you don't deserve him. you don't get to hurt people and then sit here eating pancakes like everything is fine. his jaw tightened. across from him sat proof that angel was trying, every small act of care that garam wasn't sure he'd earned. but angel had asked him to eat. and for once, garam wanted to be the kind of person who listened. the kind of person who got better instead of making excuses, the kind of person angel wouldn't eventually regret choosing. so he reached for the fork with a shaking hand, only slightly but enough to be noticed. he could easily blame sleep deprivation. he cut into the pancake and took a bite. then another. slowly, methodically. as though he were following instructions he'd been given rather than eating breakfast. the food tasted good. better than good, actually. he just couldn't seem to convince his body of that. still, he kept eating. not much. not quickly. but enough. his eyes drifted toward angel, uncertainty sat plainly across his features despite his best efforts to hide it. he looked exhausted, but he ate.

Angel watched Garam settle into the chair he'd pulled out, watched those slender fingers wrap around the fork with a tremor that was barely noticeable. Unless you were looking…and well, Angel was always looking. He's forcing himself, Angel realized, chest aching. He's doing it because I asked.That knowledge settled somewhere deep and complicated, weaving through the exhaustion still clinging to his bones. Part of him wanted to tell Garam to stop, that he didn't have to force himself. But another part, the part that had decided to quickly research while he cooked and had bookmarked articles about supporting partners through eating struggles, recognized the significance of this moment. Garam was trying. That mattered more than the amount on his plate. Angel settled into his own chair and reached for his coffee. He took a sip, letting the warmth settle in his chest, and watched Garam take another bite. Methodical. Measured. as long as he eats one “I'll be going back to work," Angel said quietly, breaking the silence with something gentle, "Thursday night. Back to my old schedule. Thursday through Sunday. " He nudged the plate of strawberries slightly closer to Garam's side, a silent invitation. "You're doing well. Eating. I know it's not easy right now." He changed the subject slightly, just wanting to let Garam know he saw him trying. Angel's hand reached across the table, not quite touching Garam's, just resting there palm-up. An offering. A choice. "I made enough coffee to power a small army, so take your time. We've got nowhere to be." He paused, a hint of softness reaching his tired eyes. "Unless you count the couch and a bad movie marathon. I'm thinking something with explosions. Mindless. No plot to follow, just things blowing up for two hours." He was rambling. He knew he was rambling. But watching Garam eat with that distant, mechanical look in his eyes made Angel want to fill the silence with something soft, something that reminded them both this was still a place of safety. Angel's gaze dropped to Garam's hand, where it gripped the fork, knuckles pale with tension. Slowly, carefully, he extended his fingers and brushed them against Garam's wrist, just a graze of skin against skin, a reminder that he was here. "You're doing well," he repeated, softer this time. "I see you trying, Garam. And I'm proud of you." The words came out before Angel could second guess them. Angel went back to eating. Finding random things to talk about. What he saw on his run and how great the sunrise was. How he almost forgot to turn on the burner when making pancakes. How he was excited to get back to work and start painting again. He had a lot of ideas that were oozing out of him. Angel just kept talking, leaving small pauses for Garam to chime in if he chose to.

UDW: Faction Wars

The seeming loss of control was expected to a level, but not like this, as the man seemed bigger as he thrusted. Rico could only moan as his ample ass was being thrust into. Each moaned a bit louder than the previous, and all were full of pleasure. He had no issue being heard by the pack, yet he refused to allow things to shift. With a muttered spell, he shifted time, slowing the world while he and Angel stayed the same, allowing their hours to feel like minutes to the town.

Feeling time slow, the hybrid hissed. His master slowing time to ensure their time was not interrupted only riled him up more. Angel savored the sight of his mate reduced to raw need. He loved hearing Ricardo’s moans spilled out without restraint, loud enough to echo out to the pack and every floor of the building. The wet slap of slick and pre-cum filled the air with every thrust, mixing with the prince’s broken pleas. Angel kept the pace deliberate, each snap of his hips making the desk legs scrape and creak beneath them. This was his mate and his alone. The serious, untouchable prince now lay open and trembling under him, gasping only Angel’s name. A deeper, feral hunger surged through Angel. He needed to brand Ricardo, to make sure every being who heard those sounds understood exactly who owned him. Without warning he flipped Ricardo onto his side, hooked one powerful leg over his shoulder, and drove back in. The new angle let him sink even deeper. He pounded harder, growling Ricardo’s name between clenched teeth while the desk rattled.

Dacre moaned softly. "Mm fair. That is very fair," Dacre chuckled, pushing back against Howell's face. "But you can describe doing this in a message."

Howell hummed against his hole as he licked and pushed his tongue inside. He pulled back slightly, licking his lips, “True…ill keep that in mind” and buried His face right back, enjoying the taste of Dacre.

garam wished he could say he'd slept, but that would have been a lie. a few times throughout the night he'd felt himself drifting off, only for his body to jolt awake the second he started sinking too deep. eventually he'd given up on forcing it, spending the rest of the night tangled in his sheets, rolling from one side of the bed to the other until the fabric was twisted beyond recognition. at some point he must have managed to doze off. when he opened his eyes again, pale morning light was spilling through the curtains. for a moment he just stared at the ceiling, disorientated, listening to the muffled sounds coming from elsewhere in the apartment. a voice carried faintly through the wall. sleep deprivation made his thoughts slow enough that, for one alarming second, he thought angel had tracked darius down and invited him over so garam could apologize in person. the idea alone was enough to make his stomach knot. only after reaching for his phone did reality catch up with him. he realized he'd never taken it off silent, immediately switched the ringer back on, then noticed the messages waiting for him. the bed feels empty. morning. maintenance is handling the door today. camera installed. there was coffee. and apparently a new roommate rule. garam read through the texts twice before lowering the phone. a breath left him that he hadn't realized he'd been holding. just angel. no strangers. no uncomfortable explanations. no third person in the room making him feel too large and too small all at once. just angel. the smell of coffee and pancakes hit him the moment he opened his bedroom door. warm, sweet, familiar. it practically pulled him down the hallway. by the time he reached the kitchen, he was still half asleep, dressed only in a pair of shorts. his hair stuck up in several directions, evidence of his restless night. he looked rough around the edges, but for once he didn't immediately retreat behind a carefully constructed version of himself. his gaze found angel first. standing there with coffee, moving around the kitchen like he'd been awake for hours, looking frustratingly put together for someone who'd gone through everything they had the night before. something in garam's chest eased. he set his phone down on the table before wandering closer. closer than necessary. stopping directly in front of angel, he planted both hands on the counter, effectively boxing angel in between his arms. no touching. just near enough to test whether the distance would be welcomed or rejected. "you've had a busy morning." his voice was rough from sleep, quieter than usual. a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he tilted his head toward the mountain of pancakes. "you don't expect me to eat all of that, do you?" he asked. "the stack's nearly my height." his eyes flicked back to angel. "you trying to make sure i never leave the apartment again?"

Angel listened as Garam set his phone down on the table, then wandered closer. Closer than necessary, as he could feel the heat from his body. He turned from th counter, and Angel's breath caught faintly as Garam planted both hands on the counter. Caging him in, close enough that Angel could see the lack of sleep on his face, the slightly chapped quality of his lips. The proximity sent a jolt through him. Dammit, he's cute. A reminder that they were still navigating this new, fragile space between them. You've had a busy morning. When Garam's voice came out rough and sleepy, it felt intimate. Then came the small smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth, aimed at the mountain of pancakes. You don't expect me to eat all of that, do you? The stack's nearly my height. Angel took a minute to respond. This was what always got him in trouble with Garam. Suddenly, the only thing he wanted to eat was right in front of him. The image of Garam on the table…Angel shook his head slightly as if shaking the thought loose and huffed a soft laugh. The sound surprised even him. He set his mug down, letting himself be boxed in, making no move to create distance. The warmth of Garam's forearms bracketed him on either side, and he could smell the sleep still clinging to his skin. This was going to be hard. "That's the goal, yeah," Angel said, voice low, a hint of tired humor threading through. "Strawberries have vitamins. Pancakes have carbs. Coffee has caffeine. It's a balanced meal if you don't think about it too hard." His eyes traced over Garam's face now, a cheap attempt to distract his thoughts. The shadows beneath his eyes, the way his lids still looked heavy, the slight redness around his lashes that suggested at least a few tears had fallen during the night. He didn't sleep well either, Angel realized, chest tightening. Or barely. Angel's hand lifted before he consciously decided it, fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from Garam's forehead, tucking it behind his ear with a gentleness that made his own throat tighten. The pad of his thumb grazed the shell of Garam's ear, featherlight, lingering. "Let's eat. I need you to eat at least one full pancake," Angel said sternly but quietly, dropping his hand back to the counter, letting it rest close to Garam's forearm without quite touching. Even with all of Garam’s hair sticking up, Angel found him endearing. "In regard to keeping you in the apartment. I just wanted to do something nice for you. Make sure you started the day knowing someone was thinking about you." Angel's gaze held Garam's, soft, tired, open in a way that felt vulnerable but necessary. "Eat with me," Angel said, not a command this time, just an invitation, his voice quieter than he intended. "Please. Then we can figure out the rest of the day together." He turned slightly, reaching for a second mug, filling it with coffee the way Garam liked it, and slid it across the counter toward him. He walked over and pulled out the other’s chair before going to his own. The morning light filtered through the kitchen windows, casting everything in a pale gold glow. The scent of butter and vanilla still lingered, warm and inviting. For the first time in what felt like forever, the apartment didn't feel like a battleground or a hiding place. It just felt like home, especially with Garam.

UDW: Faction Wars

Dacre hummed back in response with a playful smile on his face. "I was always a message away," Dacre grinned, running his hands through Howell's hair.

“Yea but I can't do this in a message,” he hummed as he lowered to the floor, his knees pressing into the carpet as he buried his face between the man's cheeks. His tongue dragging over his entrance.