I keep playing around with this school AU for Melizabeth. The Grand Cross uniform is a huge muse, and since I also like to write smut and prefer my characters aged up, I keep coming back to this concept of where goddesses (and high ranking fairies, giants, and humans) and demons go to school. Similar to Vampire Knight, where the demons have night classes and goddesses+ have day classes. The students know about each other.

I don't know why immortals are in school and I've decided not to solve for that ?

Marks by Lillie Bell

Her soft hand danced over his left cheek and ear before lacing through the fine hairs at the nape of his neck. He leaned into her touch as she clenched her hand tightly, pulling the strands at his scalp. He panted, his mouth opening and his hot breath filling the space, as the pain rolled down his spine in an arc of pleasure that ended in the throbbing point at his groin.

She pulled his head back and right, exposing his neck and shoulder. Holding him bound for her inspection. His skin was tanned and flushed, exposed for her eyes. Her right hand pressed against the loose collar and unbuttoned front shirt, moving the fabric to see more of his muscled shoulder and chest.

Her touch was light, delicate, as it traced down the front of his body. Soft whispers against the heat of his skin, dancing down from the well in his sculpted collarbone over the smooth pectoral to wind through every ab muscle. Just a fingertip or two, never her whole hand splayed against him, tight around him as he wished she would touch him as roughly as the hand fisting his hair.

One finger traverse his buckle and traced along the outside of his cock. It rose from his trousers to meet her caress, and still she danced along the edge. Feather light and barely there. She reached his tip, his cock bumping at her, begging for a heavier pet. A second finger joined the first, splitting to trace each side in tandem. The same soft, soft, soft touch. He was trembling and throbbing when her fingers met at his shaft before beginning their descent to outline him down to his tip.

"Ellie," he begged, his voice a gravelly whisper.

She leaned forward and, being overly focused to her touch, he felt the strands of her shorn hair tickle his shoulder, settling like a pool of moon water into the hollow of his collarbone, before her soft, wet lips pressed into the skin behind his ear.

Her fingers and mouth traced him delicately, one at his cock and the other at his neck. Her kisses were as gentle as her fingers, wetting and pressing skin against skin as she trekked a path down his pulse point.

His mouth was open, panting, as his body burned with her ministrations. He was sweating beneath his blazer, his body taut to feel every soft caress. He had missed her. Three months, a flicker in his immortal lifetime, and he was pulling her into broom closets desperate for a moment like this. A moment of pleasure and love and secrets that only they shared. A reaffirmation of their forbidden romance.

Her tongue, wet and hot, rolled over his pulse. He moaned, anticipating her next move. He knew the steps of this dance, and reeled as she readied to make her mark on him. Claim him so no others would think to try, even if many would scoff and assume it was just another woman after a list of others to warm his bed.

But it had only been her. For longer than he cared to remember, he was hers.

And he groaned, his body pulling in, straining, as he felt her breath against the wet spot on his neck. His hearts beat a rhythm of mark me, mark me, mark me. His chest tightened as he braced for the moment her lips closed over the spot.

"Shhhh," she purred at his ear. His cock jolted against the fingers swirling around his tip, running the line of wetness over the top. He couldn't think, could barely breathe, as she stopped. Completely stilled.

His head leaned back against the shelves. Counting as he shuddered. Counting to keep his mind from going mad, to keep his patience in place, to keep his cock from bursting the minute she deigned to touch him again.

He heard the boots first and then the murmurs as two janitors walked past the broom closet. He hadn't even sensed them. Only heard them when they were a foot away. But Elizabeth had known and shushed him before they were discovered.

It had always been this way. In her presence, his senses went to her only. So finely attuned, the rest of the world disappeared. He spent months considering it a weakness. But now, having tasted and been tasted by her for years, all he could do was look forward to centuries of his body wrapped in hers, his senses overwhelmed by her jasmine scent; her hot breath; her soft, featherlight touch; and her sweet, sweet taste.

She clenched her fist and every pinprick of hair pulling from his scalp echoed through his spine as he arched into her. She leaned into his arch, her thighs pushing at his hips, her stomach lining his chest, and the underside of her breasts teasing their weight against his shoulders. He wrapped his hands around her waist, his thumbs teasing against the fabric of her summer blazer, caressing the outline of her lower rib.

Her right hand danced up his body as she pulled him to exposed even more of his neck. His eyes were slits, the green darkening to black, as he watched her golden eyes follow her finger down his cheek.

"Where should I mark you, my love?" she whispered. Her voice low and husky. Her fingertip moved down his neck, following his vein. She tapped against the area still drying from her tongue.

"Here?" He twitched. But hers was the best torture he had ever known. She tapped again where his neck met shoulder. Her golden eyes flashed. "Here?"

She leaned in close, her nose against his cheek and her hot, hot breath against the corner of his lips. He could feel the thrum of her goddess power and he bucked against her thigh, rubbing his cock into her to quell the pressure building in his groin.

"Ellie," he warned. He was too built up. He needed her to decide, needed her to release him from this torment before he was bursting into his pants and they both would be disappointed. Because more than relieving the immense pressure, he wanted to feel her velvetty center wrapped around him as he drove himself to oblivion buried deep inside of her.

She released the hair at his neck, pressing her palm over the overly sensitive strands. He breathed, gulping in air to calm himself from the edge.

Her forehead pressed against his as she smiled at him. "Too much?"

He chuckled, feeling the roaring desire beginning to ebb away from its mind-numbing hum. He propped his chin on her breasts. Nuzzling the soft skin and planting a soft kiss against the fabric of her shirt. Her jasmine scent soothed him as her arms wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him closer.

"I missed you." Because there were no secrets between them and denying the way his hearts ached only wasted their precious, stolen time.

She sighed happily above him, her wings rustling and scraping against the shelves around them. "A closet?" she grumbled, unable to bring her wings around him the way she wanted. Unable to envelop them in the fluffy down of her feathers and hide them from the world. "Of all the places, Meliodas."

He chuckled, his fingers rubbing against her ribs, feeling the pull of her back muscles as her wings moved. Her voice a melody he had memorized to get him through the months they would be apart. A voice he imagined in his ear as he pounded out his need into his hands in her absence.

"I missed you," was all he could say. He had been chasing her since the beginning of classes. But it had always been hard for him to pursue her given the rules between their schools. She had more freedom to move between the schools - to seek him out just as she had in the beginning. And when he sensed her in his building, in his hallways, at the end of his classes he had to pursue her. Had to find her and fill his every sense with her.

She pressed a kiss to his nose. "I missed you too."

Her short hair fell around his cheeks as she leaned over him. The moon-dusted strands kissing his fingers as he played them like a chime.

"What's this?"

She blushed under his attention. "A training accident with Mael. He's still working to master his sunshine. It seems the healers were able to patch everything up except my singed hair."

He tensed. So many implications under her light tone. He couldn't protect her while she trained with the other goddesses in the Goddess realm, she was a warrior who didn't need his protection, and an underclassman had hurt her badly enough to need healers.

Her hand splayed across his shoulder, reminding him of her closeness and unfinished business at his neck. Of his hard cock still pressing into the thick muscle of her thigh. But it did not distract him from the reality that they were warriors meant to meet on opposite sides of the battlefield. And, no matter how hard he willed it to be, he would never be able to stand with her in battle, to protect and fight alongside her as an ally. As a lover and mate.

"Ellie."

She soothed him with the caress of her cheek against his. He breathed into the curve of her neck, her jasmine and goddess scent strong in his nostrils. He could never claim her as his mate. Could never leave the permanent stain of his scent on her body to mark her as his. If he did, they would all know and Elizabeth - his beautiful, spirited Ellie - would pay for both of their transgressions. Because demons were expected to corrupt and goddesses were expected to stay pure.

She kissed under his ear. Making her way down again. He couldn't mark her, couldn't lay his claim for their clans to see, to know, to fear. But she could. The mark of a goddess bore no scent. It also wasn't a permanent mating mark. Just something to keep those looking to up their social status by bedding the Demon heir at bay.

He groaned as she swirled her tongue around a spot, licking up the thin layer of dried sweat beneath the strong pulse of his hearts. His body hummed with the promise of pleasure and pain. Of the claim she was about to make that he could not.

He could hear her tongue roll over her lips, the plump skin glistening as she opened her mouth and pressed into his skin. Her magic thrummed against her lips, burning against his neck. Her fingers trailed down his arms, gentle and soft, as her power increased. He groaned against the pain and pleasure, rubbing against her thigh as she burned him. Branded him so deeply that his natural healing power would take weeks to remove the mark.

He pressed down the demonic power rising to the surface to fight against hers. Forced his healing away so that she could mar him that little bit more. So that he could relish the mark for weeks and weeks. So that she would kiss it and touch it and care for it for weeks when they lay together. So that he could punish himself with this pain for not being able to protect her from her own clan.

Anyway, I've been missing writing smut and this idea isn't going away, so I wrote a little experiment this morning. I like flash writing to get ideas on paper and see if they have enough guts to run with. It's pretty raw, unedited, and probably a non-fevered fever-dream as I get through the last days of a head cold. What do you think?