#p:d

only fictive weve ever had btw

If there was a world out of that apartment, Emily wouldn’t know. Her whole attention was focused on the Goddess laying down in bed; hair splayed on the pillows, eyes following every movement and lips calling for Emily to fall deeper into temptation. It was impossible to resist when sin had the shape of such a beautiful woman.

However, there was no other way to treat a deity than with reverence; worshiping every inch of offered skin with the subtle caress of fingertips along a calf. There was nothing but reverence as Emily took her sweet time; maybe a fraction of eternity, to take Orion’s clothes off. Her hungry gaze devouring every naked spot that her mouth craved. But she couldn’t give in yet.

Orion had to know just how beautiful and special she was. The silence too deep to be broken, but that wouldn’t stop Emily from letting her know the truth hidden behind the pain. Blue eyes remained always open and earnest; filled with desire and a trace of uncertainty due to a intimacy long forgotten.

Emily’s hesitation lasted but a second; gone in the blink of an eye as she focused on Orion and the body sculpted by the Gods. It was all unexplored territory, and her lips traced the lines of an unseen map. Hot breath stoked the flames of their need; building slowly, dragging Emily down until she drank from Orion’s lips everything she could want, everything she needed.

“Are you sure about this?“

Her body pressed against Jay’s; effectively pinning her against the bed. Emily’s hands wrapped around Orion’s wrists, securing them with a strong grip. If there was a moment to stop it was right then and there, because as soon as Emily got the first taste of Heaven, she wouldn’t be able to stop.

These moments crept up on her, catching her off guard. Are they moments of lucidity, or the opposite? Moments where she becomes hyper-aware of herself. The gravity of her situation. Remnants of anxiety not fully exterminated with reconditioning and brainwashing, it would seem. Like a roach. 

At any rate, the assassin needs to be alone. She’s a master of concealing her inner struggles-- it’s saved her more than a handful of sessions to bring her back to ground zero. For, even on the edge of sanity and misery is better than the torture. The shocks with little anesthetic. The lies fed to her. This over that any day. 

Elias dropped everything. He ran out of his dorm room, no shirt, no time to waste. It didn’t matter what it was that happened, all he cared about was getting to her as fast as he could and help her with whatever she needed help with. Once he reached her door, Elias banged on it several times, nervously. “Tessa! Tessa, it’s me!” he called out to her, still knocking on the door. He considered breaking the door down; what if she was seriously injured? Then, before he could even taking another breath, she opened the door. Elias’ eyes fell directly at the towel covered in blood that she held around her wrist, and he suddenly understood. “Fuck, Tess-” he stopped short, leaning forward to pick her up, carrying her body over his two arms. He carried her to the elevator, walking fast as his mind raced. “It’s okay,” he whispered as they got in, trying not to make his voice crack. Elias carried her out quickly, trying to avoid attracting any attention around them as he got in one of the usual cabs that were parked near the school for the students to use. He set her down gently in the back seat, sitting beside her as his eyes never left her. 

Erica Tobin smoothed down the sleeves of her business suit, her foot tapping against the patio floor of the private restaurant she had booked. She hoped Naya arrived soon - she only got an hour for lunch and since she wasn’t supposed to even be in the office today, her hours were very hurried and she had a deadline to file her papers and call it a night. Despite her calm and collected demeanor, she was nervous. It had taken all her courage to place that phone call to Becca, especially in private from her husband, and now she was just hoping this didn’t all backfire in her face. She was definitely more nervous to face her daughter after this but Naya was just as intimidating. She liked the young girl, she really did, but after her speech when her husband kicked Becca out...it was clear she didn’t hold back when speaking her opinions. Erica wasn’t used to this. She wasn’t used to disagreeing, apart from at work, and she wasn’t used to someone standing up to her. It had always been so easy to sit in the background and let her husband make all the decisions because that was just how she had been raised herself.