DJINN

“ Any and everything you ask of me will be met, sir. Very specifically.” He said sincerely, happily allowing himself to be pulled closer to the master.  He giggled as Dorian tasted the leftover beer on his lips. His eye darkened with every passing minute his hand stayed on his crotch. He pushed his hips forward wanting more, whining softly. “ As far as you allow me, please, sir ask me to do anything I’ll do it.” He said desperately. He moaned wrapping his arms around his shoulders as he was pulled close. 

Levi moved in a little closer. The hum of the man’s blood called to him, like the full moon to his wolf. “What was that?” He heard the man just fine. He just wanted to linger on his neck, the pulse in his throat. Licking his lips, Levi tilted his head. “What is it you want?” He asked. “And what would you be willing to trade for it?”

He’d gladly fuck the man in exchange for a taste of his blood.

It was clear that there was a trade necessary and while the blood of many species was intoxicating, a djinn’s was almost a prized as a demon’s. Dorian grinned beneath the neck of the bottle and he turns it up, pulling contents from the belly of it and lets the bitterness coat his tongue. He’d suck air through thinned lips. “Hm? Money, jewelry, a wish.” Dorian smiled sweetly, contradicting just how potent the chance of a lifetime was. Leaning close, Dorian teased him with the scent of his unique pheromones to pair with the bloodlust. “Make it worthwhile for both of us and you may just get to feed while fucking.” 

For once in his life, he didn’t look away from the glare, the master gave him. He stared back at him with wide lustful eyes. He wasn’t his normal shy self he was a little minx that wanted to be bitten and used like the pet he was. He snuggled into his hand, grinning back at him. Viktor couldn’t keep his eyes off of the master, bitting his finger as it trimmed his bottom lip.

“ If that is what you what you wish of me, then I would drop to my knees and take you into my mouth.” He said feeling his hips thrust on their own as he tapped his cock. He bit his lip “ I am more than willing, anything you want I’ll do, use me however you want.” He gasped as he was cupped. 

“Just how specific are my demands to be met by you?” Dorian pulls his face closer. He could smell the beer on his lip and without much discretion, his tongue savors the taste of the shifter’s lips to taste the slight difference between their drink choice. He kept a hold of the shifter’s crotch while adjusting him lightly beneath his hand. He stared into his eyes, watching as the flame started from a gentle spark. “How far does one’s willingness go?” He teased. Dorian spoke over his lips, nipping lightly as he pulled him painfully close. 

“Alright, so my therapist was all ‘you don’t respect yourself, Gabriel, you shouldn’t be so easily persuaded into someone’s bed,’“ Gabe mocked in a pitched voice. He wasn’t entirely sure who he was talking to, or who was still paying attention. So he just talked loud enough to make sure everyone around him could hear him if they wanted to. 

“So I’ve decided I’m going to prove him wrong.” He paused, just intoxicated enough to need to work through his logic. “I’m going to show him what easy really is.” He stumbled slightly, but his smile was wide and open. “Would you like to help me? Preferably with bondage?”

Dorian started with some whiskey and a sort of mixer. Probably a fruit juice or a soda. Either way, he made sure there was only a drop compared to the potency of the liquor. He listened to this man speak but for some reason, it seemed he clung to the very words of a man who reinforced social norms that were far more archaic that adaptable and true to individualism. 

Jaxon’s usual snark was gone as he felt like he was floating through the crowd, wanting to talk to everyone and he wasn’t sure why. When he felt someone’s presence, he turned to look at them, unsure what they wanted. Everyone seemed to be acting unusual and it was amusing and it made him giggle. “Going deep how?” he asked with a smirk, setting down his glass at the nearby table to focus on this one. “What is it you want from me?” he asked instead, feeling an attraction to the other, even though he knew rationally it wasn’t normal behavior for himself.

Dorian wasn’t exactly sure of what he meant but he clearly wasn’t as forward. Not immediately. He cleared his throat, crossing his legs and furrowed his brow. “What do you mean, what do I mean? There are fewer ways to go deep when actually referencing someone else’s body.” Dorian looked down at the glass bottle and took more drinks from it. “I was meaning sexual encounters. Fucking- so to speak.” Dorian cleared his throat, still feeling the fluidity of how aroused he was. It flowed through him like it were his very blood and he could only see through that very feeling. “Should I want you to fuck me or should I even ask you to explore my body?” 

Viktor stuttered through a conversation with the Djinn with a bottle of beer in his hand. He never had it before and was worried he wouldn’t like the taste, but he would hate to upset the master and not have a drink with him. He was stating weird fact he knew about beer when he decided he would just have to drink it. He sighed pressing his lips to the bottle taking a big gulp. He wrinkled his nose at the taste.

He didn’t like the feeling it gave him. He felt hot and his eyes glazed over. His clothes felt heavy on him and he wanted them off as soon as possible. He looked over at the master when he talked. He blushed at his comment, but instead of being embarrassed or running away he pressed his bodies close to the Djinn. “ Oh yeah, want to find out?” 

Dorian glared into his eyes and challenged the validity of the feeling. He knew he’d have random encounters but this was by far the most intriguing feeling to share. His hands drift along the brow of the shifter and along his hairline before he captured his chin and tilts his head upwards. He grinned. A dangerous game to play; and yet, the fox was willing to play them. He bites his bottom lip. Dorian trims his bottom lip with his thumb, drifting the cold dew from the glass across it. He squints, not necessarily fighting the feeling but exploring them. 

“Would you rather here? Right here, right now?” Dorian lets his other hand press between them and he taps just to the side of the shifter’s cock and grins. He pulls the cloth tight, giving him little space to be free- so to speak. “Just how bad are you willing?” Absently, he cups him, tugging his pants just low enough to let the waistband rest beneath his hips.

Dorian watched their lips, studying how they flexed under the weight of their glass. As they’d pull from their beverage, the djinn focused on how they pressed against the rim. Their conversation had been lost the moment he downed the flute of the bottle and the bitterness of the beer was forgotten. He felt his nipples press against the fabric of his shirt and his own body reject any sense of self-control. It; their body, became hot- supple and tender to the frustrations of want and here he was trying to pretend that all was well. He felt himself clench when he honed in on the muscles in their throat flex. 

founder’s day party: BOURBON

After drinking the bourbon, Balthazar suddenly felt a bit different; a bit better. “Maybe this party isn’t going to be so bad after all.” Aside from some of the pet’s he’d met after coming to Linvale, the master had been bored with the city… but maybe this was a sign that things were beginning to look up. Taking another drink from the bartender, he didn’t even get the chance to finish it before his eyes locked onto a person across from him. Without even thinking, he set his drink down and moved towards them as if he was being pulled by an outside force. “Just as I was beginning to think I’d never see an angel, here you are.” Reaching forward, he took their hand into his own and lifted it to his lips so he could kiss their knuckles. “Let me take care of you, let me shower you in affection– it is the least I can do to show you how much I love you.”

founder’s day party: vanilla cake

Dorian watched the activities swirl about them like the wind blowing through a field of tall grass and for the first few moments, they were enticed to participate. They’d dance a little. Mingle even more. But the one decision they opted to savor was the lovely confection of cake. Clean in flavor but so vibrant with the intricate blend of essences, he too found himself just as boundless as sweetness and just as thick as sticky sweet honey. He slowly turns to meet the male, completely, looking down at their interlaced hands and eventually their lips. He was sweet. Charming even. But it seemed so amplified. “You are far too kind and as beautiful as that is, I am curious to find out just how far this goes. Please, enlighten me, beloved.” Dorian purred, running a thumb across his knuckles. “Tell me more.” Their tongue pressed to the roof of their mouth. 

“I’d prefer Tequila,” he answered as he skipped to the part he could understand. Everything the man was saying about his intelligence– well, what he considered was about his intelligence just sounded like a bundle of mismatched words stringed together and made to sound fancy even though they made no sense; to him anyway. Rather than letting it frustrate him further, he simply chose to ignore it. “–but if that’s not an option, Whiskey works.” Reclining further into his seat, he let his legs stretch out so he could prop them up on the small table in front of him. “See– like that. What the hell does that even mean? The emptiness of thought’s to which you gave’a voice. The emptiness of thought’s don’t even make sense.” He was still confused with the way the other spoke but the longer he sat there the less edge his words had; you could even say he was starting to genuinely ask what the master meant as if he actually cared; as if he actually wanted to know what they meant. “Or ale works too,” he added on in a loose mumble as he lifted his shoulder’s in a loose shrug. “ ‘S’more comfortable to sit like this, guess I’ll just have to deal with it.” Though, even as he argued, he shifted around in his seat to straighten out his posture a bit. “What– you don’t wanna use my numbers? You’re weird,” the shifter replied back though he meant no malice behind his word choice, “but I guess there’s nothin’ wrong with tellin’ you my name. It’s Apollo– an’ I fought for my old master but I ain’t about to fight for the assholes here.”

Dorian shook his head and as his chin stays within the lines of his moving nose, he’d tisk. They’d continue to stroke the surface of the slate until the holo shifts. Perhaps he’d get his tequila but the last thing he needed was a shifted being wound up on liquid courage. “If you’d desire tequila then who am I to deny you from wetting your tongue. I did ask, after all.” They’d smile, ticking the drink choice before ordering his own infused vodka. Without a sense of regret, he orders them two bottles to which he’d set off for reserves- if the shifter could really handle his juice. “It means, more or less, you sound like a bumbling fool.” He wanted the djinn to speak unfiltered and that is exactly what he’d give. Though, Dorian gave no added stab to his tone. He shook his head. “I take it that even the masters; whom you’ve fought for, did not give proper education to at least give you more than ample hip thrusts and swinging erections.” Dorian rolled his eyes. What a waste. For many, they’d never ascend beyond their title but a bit of education enriched the lives and often extended them. “I do not need your numbers. I can find those just by seeking them out. But a name? Makes you stand out in a sea of a thousand digits. I am Dorian Asad. Djinn. I don’t need you to fight for me. I can do that with a simple thought. I just seek a conversation. I deal with snobs frequently. I just ask that you give me something different, yes?”