#offendsshadows

53:rolling tongue kiss

“Shh--” Fuck did this guy talk a lot. So much that Tony didn’t hear half of what came out of his mouth other than something that had to have been some sort of innuendo due to the way his eyebrows bounced. The polite thing was to lead him to a private room, just off the side of the bar, usually reserved for parties and ‘meetings’ and things of that sort. And the fool was still talking. 

Tony turned his head slightly before sliding that small little pill onto his tongue, turning back and pushing the guy back against the wall with a small grunt before fusing lips. Not bothering to wait and slipping his tongue inside, making damn well sure that he passed along his little gift. 

//I think your tags are just cursed don’t they break like every day my goodness

  Chesh glares back at him unblinkingly, partly out of petulant refusal to show  what might resemble feline tenderness.      There is a sound at the back of her throat   that might be a low whine, or perhaps a growl.       How dare he go and say something like that,   calling to attention the fact that they both still have 

  promises to keep; 

               vows and bonds and geis to enforce,       breaths to steal as stars collide and kingdoms crumble.            Worse still, how DARE he touch at the implicit       and speak of their unspoken —-                       the prevailing truth, that desire in and of itself TO meet again,                    to breathe the same air in time with one another.           It’s perhaps the worst of all the liberties taken by this very impudent creature      and Cheshire has half a mind to punish him for it with a cold dismissal,          to fade then and there from his gaze possibly for what they both know                             might be the last time in this one of her lives.

B U T —

         she does not.       

  Manicured claws rake up Puck’s shirt,                      grabbing his collar even as she floats upwards,     piercing clean through a silver button. 

    She nuzzles his cheek, inhales his woodland scent deeply enough to see       the glimmer of late June witching hours dance fervently behind her eyes.      

                   “ Careful, sprite.”

                             – –  TEETH graze against his ear,                         the cat sidhe’s words a whisper in a long-lost tongue.

Robin snorted softly as he glanced up from his book, and he raked his fingers through his hair. Truthfully, he was grateful for the distraction -- he’d lost count of how long he’d been studying, but the words on the page were starting to blur together.

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