#get to know cayenne

[vrieseasees]

POV: you regret teaming up with some guy that is largely unaware of more and more things the longer you work with him (it's only been one day)

Cocoa Cayenne tends to think other pepper cookies are his cousins (Chili Pepper is def not)

And hasnt noticed his mount is dangerous to innocent cookies too 👍

[arolesbianism]

Just realized I forgot to post these

[jensownzoo]

Steady rain all day so no gardening activities. But I took pics of my anti-digging protections in my rear garden space, so now's a good time to share.

The first section of bed has the tinker-toy like pvc structure covered in insulation cloth held down with boards. The grills on top are to prevent an animal trying to walk across the top from immediately falling through and tearing the cloth.

The second bed has concrete mixing tubs inverted over the pepper plants, removed every morning.

The third bed has wire shelving over the tiny Chinese cabbages, some interior divider panels from wire dog crates and a random gold zigzag panel leaning up against the hardware cloth back to protect the tomatoes.

Fourth and final bed in that section has a thin strip of leftover hardware cloth over the green onions at the rear plus a wire display panel leaned over the kale elevated a bit by a landscaping timber. The inverted pot is over one of the kale plants because the panel isn't long enough, plus there's spiraled hardware cloth scrap in the side to keep an animal from just walking behind the panel.

The green wire fence panel in the right bed is a permanently installed trellis. The wire shelving and box fan grill are protecting the tomatoes and basil. There's a similar setup on the other side for tomatoes using baking cooling racks and a bicycle tire.

The strawberry bed dead ahead is mostly protected with burlap held down by brick papers and timbers. There are a few small grills over the sections in which I have sown nasturtium.

To the rear of the strawberry bed is a rack of earthboxes enclosed in wire dog crates. This area is partial shade so has the lettuce and chard and green onions and stuff.

The other rack of earthboxes. The ones on the ends are full of peppermint and don't really need protection. The other exposed box has green onions and chard and marigolds and is filled out enough that it seems to be okay. There's an inverted long pot over more tiny Chinese cabbage and celeriac seedlings. Wire shelving protects two pepper plants and more celeriac. Then I have wire hoops holding up insulation cloth over two earthboxes containing bok choy and Chinese broccoli (to exclude cabbage moths) with the foldable wire top from a small mammal cage to again prevent critters walking over the top from falling through.

The large teal pot on the ground to the left has a tomato cage that I wrap in folded over insulation cloth secured with binder clips at night. Once the African marigolds around the margin grow up a little, I should be able to stop using it.

Not pictured is the plastic tote I invert over the bulbs I planted in front of the shed, the wire wastebaskets and pots inverted and held down by bricks over the sunflower and celeriac seedlings in the front yard, and the baking cooling racks I have over all the window boxes and large pots that have seed sown in them. Oh and the burlap coffee bean sacks held down with diy earth staples in the raised bed against the back fenceto protect the tomatoes plus a random piece of hardware cloth over the few garlic plants (because they kept digging that section up every night).

I know most of the issues are caused by opossums, but we also get raccoons, a woodchuck, rats, and mice at night. Robin's and squirrels in the daytime. And it's mostly because I have steadily worked on improving the soil in these beds/the yard which results in bumper crops of tasty worms and grubs. But yeah, the disappointment and frustration of hard experience has turned my veggie growing areas into a sort of fort Knox against large pests. Once things size up and root in, just some burlap and earth staples will probably be sufficient for anti-digging.

Then I just have to guard against produce thievery.

[astrangelittlefool]

.

[scenicphoenix]

I got a new tv dinner to try, and I looked at it after it was done and I knew I needed spice it because it just looked so bland. I put a decent amount of chili powder on it for it's size and it was still bland.

If I ever get it again (I'm not, it was overpriced for what you got) I'll have to put so much chili powder in it that it becomes half chili powder and half tv dinner

It still had taste btw, it was just boring as fuck and all you got was the base ingredients like rice and bell peppers. That's it That's the flavor, rice and bell peppers with mass produced meat slices. And a hint of spicy because I added chili powder, it was not enough spicy

[moonstruckme]

Hi! I hope you’re doing well! Your account has been such a comfort for me these past few months and I’m so grateful for you! I was wondering if I could request a poly!marauders drabble where one of them calls the reader a pet name but they’re still really new to the relationship so they don’t realize that he’s talking to them?

Thanks for requesting!

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 598 words

You take quiet, giddy pleasure in the chaos of all four of you in the boys’ kitchen. It’s not the tiniest of kitchens, but small enough yet that you can’t move about without brushing or bumping various body parts into each other’s. Honestly, you wouldn’t want to. 

You find yourself deeply enamored by the sound of your knife hitting the cutting board in time with James’, by the way Remus touches your back to reach into the cabinet above your head and Sirius sneaks little bites of your unfinished dinner and slips you some too. Your voices overlap and intertwine, making requests or directions while you dice potatoes at a steady pace. 

“Would you call these finely chopped?” 

“Yeah, I’d say so.” 

“Give that a stir for me please, love.” 

“Where do you guys keep the spices?” 

“Jamie, I’d say that’s more than enough cheese.” 

“Spices are right in that cabinet above you. See? Yeah, there you go.” 

“If, in theory, I forgot to get paprika at the store, would cayenne be a decent substitute?” 

“Do we have chili powder?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Use that.” 

“Would you pass me the thyme, sweetheart?” 

“Sweetheart?” 

You turn only when the kitchen is silent. Remus is looking at you, kind eyes kindly prompting. He nods to just above you. 

“It’s in the spice cabinet there,” he says. “The dried thyme.” 

“Oh.” You blink, reaching for it. “Sorry, I didn’t think you were talking to me.” 

“That’s alright,” says Remus. He takes it from you, a bemused smile playing on the edges of his mouth. “Thank you.” 

“Why wouldn’t he be talking to you?” Sirius asks. 

“I don’t know.” You return to your potatoes, knife thunking against the wooden cutting board. “There are four of us in here, so.” 

Sirius makes a humming sound you know means trouble, and then his arms are needling underneath yours, winding around your middle. His voice is saccharine beside your ear. “Do you not think you have a sweet heart, my love?” 

You laugh. “Don’t,” you say, though you let some of your weight lean backwards into him. Sirius takes it happily. 

“You know you’re our sweetheart.” You may never get used to this, how Sirius can go from teasing to earnest in a second. You can’t always tell which is which, either. He seems to find something worth notice in the crook of your neck, resting his lips there in a long, funny kiss. “Don’t you?” 

You roll your eyes. James shoots you a grin. “I just thought,” you say, “that he might be talking to one of you.” 

Buried beneath your jaw, Sirius makes a noise of disapproval. 

“What?”

“You knew he could be talking to you too, though, right?” James prompts. 

You shrug, moving your eyes back to your work. “I guess.” 

“You guess?” Sirius sets his chin on your shoulder. 

“It just didn’t occur to me in the moment,” you admit. Your potato pieces are getting smaller and smaller. 

Remus laughs. “That won’t do, dove.” 

“See,” you point, smiling, “that one I know.” 

James laughs, too, bumping your hip. “I’d hope so! We’re going to need to start calling you things more often, get you used to it.” 

“I just wasn’t expecting it.” You’re shrinking in on yourself a tiny bit now. Sirius only holds you closer, cooing. 

“Start expecting it,” Remus advises you. 

“Let’s practice.” James raises his eyebrows at you pointedly. “Angel, would you pass me the salt?” 

You huff a laugh, grabbing it for him. “Sure.” 

“Such a quick study!” Sirius praises, mushing another kiss to your cheek. “That’s our girl.” 

[sunflowerwinds]

new look | s.a

summary: your girlfriend surprises you with a new haircut and piercing while your babysitting isha for the night. with her new arm missing, sevika adapts to one arm. being as caring as you were, you try to help her as often as possible.

pairing: fem!reader x sevika arcane

contains: nothing but fluff, tiniest bit of angst if you squint, isha & jinx being sevika and reader’s daughters <3

word count: 2.2K

a/n: TWO ONESHOTS IN ONE DAY??? i’m insane. also arcane ends soon and i’m genuinely so terrified omfg. enjoy MY LOVES!!!

It was a night when Jinx decided to swing by you and Sevika’s place to drop off Isha for a few hours when your girlfriend revealed her new look.

You were cooking a simple rice and chicken meal with Isha being your little helper for the night. She was perched up on the counter, bunny ears on the top of her messily blue-painted hair to match the girl she admired the most. Her head was tilted as her small yellow tight covered legs swung back and forth as she awaited your next instruction, golden eyes wide with curiosity.

“Okay now, my little sous-chef, can you pass me…” You hum as you stare at the raw chicken on the cutting board, thinking about what seasoning to add other than salt and pepper. “Oh! Cayenne pepper, please.”

Isha nodded with a determined expression, turning her body to look at the small rack of spices on the countertop. She reaches over to snatch the seasoning of your choosing, placing the container in your palm. You grin at her, bopping her tiny nose with your finger. She scrunches her nose back with a laugh under her breath.

“Thank you. Now I’m going to lather it to spread the seasoning around so every bite is delicious,” you explain to the child even though you were about 90% sure she was just watching you.

You place the first cutlet into the pan, watching it sizzle against the metal. Isha’s mouth drops with a soft gasp, holding onto her bunny ears as she leans over to watch the little bubbles pop in the oil. As you wash your hands to be rid of raw chicken and crumbles of seasoning lingering on your fingertips, you make sure to keep an eye on the adorable child.

You dry your hands on a soft gray beaten-down towel hanging off the stove, turning back to cooking the chicken. You’re so distracted with flipping the few chicken breasts over that you don’t even hear the front door open. It isn’t until Isha jumps off the counter, letting out an excited noise as she scurries to the front door.

“Hey! Isha, you need to be careful…” You trail off as your eyes follow to where she is running.

There stood your girlfriend in a dark gray tank top and her usual pair of low-waisted pants with a leather belt holding them up. You immediately noticed the extreme haircut your girlfriend had gotten, eyebrows raising as you made your way over to her. Her arm patted Isha’s back as the child snuggled her face to one of her meaty legs.

“Sevika?” You chuckle out of shock as you walk over to cup the sides of her face.

“You like it?” She asks timidly, her lips twitching into a grin at your bright eyes.

You nod slowly, eyes widening when you catch a glimpse of a small dot underneath her bottom lip. You tug her face closer, causing her to make a noise of surprise at the jolt.

“And you got a labret piercing?” You gasp.

“Thought I’d… get a new look, you know?” Sevika chuckles at how close you are examining the fresh piercing and haircut.

“You look…” You pause trying to find the right word. You glance down at Isha who was now staring up at the large woman, examining her new look as well. “Badass.”

You wanted to say she looked good enough to push onto your bed to take her right now but didn’t feel it was appropriate to say in front of the child. Isha nodded in agreement, signing ‘super cool’ to Sevika. You both chuckle in amusement at her words, rubbing at her fluffy hair.

“You ready for dinner?” You question the tall woman, kissing her cheek gently.

Sevika blinked as you didn’t freak out like she thought you would.

“Uh, yeah. How long do we get the kid for?” Sevika kneeled to hoist Isha up onto her only arm, letting her crawl over her shoulders.

Isha situates herself on Sevika’s shoulders, eyes widening at the sudden height change. She released soft noises of shock as Sevika made her way over to where you were now standing in the kitchen, setting all four dinner plates.

“Jinx should be here soon for dinner. She just dropped Isha off and said, ‘be back for dinner, Mrs. Lefty. Don’t wait up.’” You mimicked the blue-haired girl's voice.

Sevika hummed at your words as she grabbed her designated plate which you had carved her initial into. You beam as you feel Sevika’s lips delicately kiss your cheek, telling you thank you for dinner. Isha makes a noise along with a tap to Sevika’s head.

“What is it, kid?” Sevika questioned Isha as she set her plate down where she would eat.

Isha points to you and leans down to poke at Sevika’s cheek. You furrow your brows at her but when you realize what she meant, your heart softens.

“She wants to give me a kiss too, Sev,” you beam at her.

Sevika’s eyes soften as well as she holds her arm out so that Isha could climb off. She lets out a few soft grunts as she hangs off of Sevika’s large bicep, releasing her muscle to land on the wooden floors.

You lean down to her level, awaiting Isha’s kiss to your cheek. She places a hand on your shoulder and jumps a bit to give you a quick kiss, smiling satisfied now. You kiss the top of her head before motioning for her to wash her hands.

“Thank you, sweetheart. Go and wash your hands. It’s dinner time.”

Isha nods with an adorable grin as she marches to the bathroom. The second she leaves your view, Sevika turns to you with wide impatient eyes.

“Do you actually like it?” She questions, blinking her soft gray eyes at you.

You step into her with a small smile, cupping both sides of her face once again.

“Yes, Sevi. I love it. I actually like it a little too much,” you admit as you brush a few of the falling strands out of her face.

Her strong brows raise at your words, eyes flickering down to your lips.

“Yeah?”

Her demeanor switched from anxious and bashful to more self-assured. You playfully roll your eyes at her, placing a kiss to her nose as you knew you weren’t allowed to kiss her after getting the piercing.

“Mhmm, and in…” You trail off, not exactly knowing how long you had to wait until kissing her. “How long did they say you had to wait to kiss? Like a week?”

“Three.”

Your eyes widened at the time frame, scooping some rice onto your plate.

“Three weeks?” You deadpan to your girlfriend who simply nods along with you. “Well, they never I couldn’t kiss you in other places.”

Sevika’s smirk grows at your cheeky words, watching you leave her side to set Isha’s place setting. Her eyes shamelessly watch your ass and hips sway with every step in her pants.

Just as she was about to slap your ass, Isha comes running past her and you to eagerly sit at the table. Her small hands were a bit damp so you dab them dry with a towel.

“You wanna wait for Jinx to eat?” You question the girl.

Isha seems hesitant at first, the scent of the food tempting her. She nods regardless in agreement to wait for the elder.

“Good thing I’m already here!” You hear a familiar coming from behind you.

You jump, your body flinching at the sound. Sevika curses and grumbles at the blue haired girl somehow creeping her way into your home. You swore she was like a cat with how silent her movements were. Isha was the only one beaming at the sight of her, running over and hugging her striped pant legs.

“You two have to lock your door y’know? There’s some real weirdos out there.” Jinx leans down to fully hug Isha with a cheeky grin, winking at you two.

“Just wash your hands so you can eat,” you shake your head but smile at the girl regardless.

Jinx dramatically groans at your instruction but stands to her feet, her lengthy braids swaying behind her. When you give her a narrowed glare, you notice Sevika struggling with plating Jinx’s plate. She’s sighing as she keeps grabbing too much or too little meat or rice.

You frown and walk over to place a hand on her shoulder.

“Sev, babe, I got it. Go sit down and eat, okay?” You tell her softly, giving her a kind smile.

Sevika pauses her movements and she side-eyes you. The two of you had a talk about her taking a break from the mechanical arms. Jinx offered to build her another but Sevika refused; for now. You knew she would be hard-headed about getting help from you but you made sure not to make it a big deal. Little things like this in the comfort of your home made it easier.

She clears her throat with a sigh, nodding relectuanly.

“Okay,” Sevika’s hand comes up to cup your face quickly, needing to show a sign of affection as her kisses were put on hold for the time being.

You lean in it for as long as she’ll allow, which would be forever, but her stomach was betraying her. You chuckle at her rumbling gut and jerked your head to the table. Isha was already seated, spoon in hand as she waited (im)patiently for everyone else to sit down.

“Kid, you can eat. Don’t have to wait for these two lovebirds.” Jinx rounds the table from the bathroom as she plops down in her designated seat next to the golden-eyed child.

Isha, still hesitant, turns her head to look at you and Sevika. You press a couple more kisses to the woman's cheek before scurrying over your spot. Sevika followed like a puppy behind you to sit in her spot next to yours.

The second Sevika sat down, Isha dug into her food. You chuckle at her fast-paced eating before digging in yourself. You groan at the taste, nodding as you eat the meal you’ve prepared.

Sevika props her elbow up on the table as she digs into her food as well, humming at the flavor.

“This is delicious. Thank you, baby.” Sevika grins at you, nodding as she continues to eat.

“Well, thank Isha too. She helped me cook dinner tonight.” You turn to the child who was now washing some of her food down with water.

Isha set her cup down with a sheepish smile. Jinx raised her hand to brush her knuckle against her small cheek, a gentle smile on her face.

“Great work, kid. You might have to be the cook between us. Never been my strong suit,” Jinx shrugged as she devoured the meal in front of her. “I had other things to focus on.”

Isha grimaces at her words, causing you and Sevika to chuckle.

After dinner, you gave Jinx and Isha some leftovers as they left back to Jinx’s little hidden home. As you shut the door waving at the two, a new wave of silence settled over you and Sevika’s home.

You lock the door as a flash of Jinx’s face pops into your head, reminding you to do so. Sevika was washing dishes, her broad back tempting you to walk over and hold her. So you did just that.

You tip-toe over to her with a giddy grin, carefully wrapping your arms around her torso. Sevika, used to your addiction to clinging onto her, simply continued to wash the dishes to the best of her ability.

“You were a little quiet at dinner, baby.” You hum, placing kisses to the muscles decorating her backside.

She knew what that statement insinuated and she shook her head.

“I’m okay. Just… trying to get used to one arm,” she sniffs.

“I know you hate asking for help with pretty much everything but you can ask me to help.”

Sevika hums as you kiss all over her back, keeping them light and gentle. It only added to the domestic feel of your home.

“I know. It just feels—”

“Vulnerable?” You finish for her.

Sevika nods to confirm, muttering a curse when she slips up and drops a plate into the sink. You release her toned torso to scoot yourself right next to her, filling in the empty space of her left arm.

“You never have to feel hesitant to be vulnerable with me. I love being able to be that safe space for you.” You hum as you grab the plate and start washing it yourself.

Sevika turns to look at you, eyes rounded in admiration. She couldn’t believe how understanding and sweet you were considering where you both lived.

In her eyes, you were an angel in comparison to her.

“You feel safe with me, right?” You speak up as Sevika was again eerily silent.

Her gray eyes softened at your question before nodding as she rested her head on yours. You giggle at the feeling, being reminded of the height difference between the two of you.

“Always. You feel safe with me?”

“Of course, Sev.”

Standing in front of the sink, taking turns washing each dish as you spoke softly to one another. That was enough for you two.

TAG-LIST: @archangeldyke-all @theflyingforklift @strawberrykidneystone @prwttiestbunny @pumpkin-eater28 @yaeil @lunatakashi18 @caicreations @ayooooohush @lizzie2980

[goingmerryfics]

Calling them ‘daddy’ - Law, Sanji, Katakuri, Ace

Content: NSFW content, minors DNI. Daddy kink, fem reader in Sanji’s part, kinkshaming, two are accidental slips, pet names, some are established relationships

Law

Shachi grins, continuing the conversation, pulls up another pirate’s wanted poster

“Alright. Daddy, or not daddy?”

It’s such a stupid game -choosing which pirates are hot by labeling them as ‘daddy’- but it makes you all laugh, so you answer

You don’t even hear Law calling you three over the laughter

Fed up with it, he sharply calls out all three of your names

You turn, and in a moment of brain fog, you shout

“Yes, daddy!”

Immediately you see your error, mixing up replying with his usual title of Captain and saying ‘Daddy’ due to your game

It’s not what it looks like, but the damage is done. Shachi and Penguin are laughing their asses off, half the crew is losing it, and the other half is just confused, and Law is glaring daggers into you

You quickly correct yourself by shouting, ‘Captain’, trying to will away the heat in your cheeks

He’s not impressed

“You.” He points to you, “are going to meet me in my office after this.”

Sanji

The both of you were in the kitchen after you’d offered to help him prep for dinner. It was nice to be alone with him, and watching him so focused was fascinating

“Can you cut the carrots, princess?”

and you’d answered, “Sure, daddy.”

You intended to tease him a little, but he doesn't even have a reaction to it. He’s so focused that if it’s not food related, he doesn’t seem to realize what’s going on

So every time you’re asked a question, you sneakily add the word to the end of your reply to him

It takes so long for it to set in, but you know exactly when he realizes it because he suddenly shouts and backs away from the stove, blood rushing out of his nose

He drops to his knees before you, face as red as the cayenne pepper you’d spilled on the counter earlier

he takes your hands, his grip gentle as if handling a porcelain doll

“My sweet, sweet pumpkin pie!”

It takes an hour to get him off of you

Katakuri

“Don’t.”

You’re lying against him, in the privacy of his Merienda, both snacking on your favorite treats

You ask him what he means- don’t what?

“I know what you were going to say.”

He’s so calm about it. You don’t even know what you mean until you remember what you were thinking of- you had been wondering what he would be like as a father

Judging by the hint of blush on his face, easy to see here in the Merienda with his scarf set aside, you realize you were probably at some point going to connect the thought to another and call him ‘daddy’

You end up grinning and poking at him, asking why he’s blushing

He won’t answer you, just looks away with a little grumble. You’ll have to bring it up later to see if his reaction leads to something more

Ace

You were distracted and Ace was pestering you for attention, chatting your ear off and asking you questions

“What’s for dinner?”

“What are your plans today?”

It had slipped out of your mouth without you even thinking after answering one of his stupid questions and now he won’t let it go

You hadn’t even noticed it when you said it- you were too annoyed to pay attention to what words you were using, but he did

You’ve never seen someone turn around so fast. His hat even falls off his head.

“Huh? What did you say?”

He knows damn well what you said, he just wants to hear it again

He pokes at your reddened cheek all day, refusing to say it again and swearing you don’t know where it had come from when you said it

“Say it again, c’mon, I wanna hear you say it!”

Honestly, you have no idea why you put up with this guy sometimes. He’s lucky he’s cute

[ms-demeanor]

Hey also you know that post about getting better at cooking and handling meat and stuff?

Meat is really expensive and it goes bad pretty quickly.

If you're a new cook and you're trying to figure out how to pan-fry something so that it tastes good, might I recommend tofu?

I'm not saying "treat tofu like meat and try to replace all your favorite meat dishes with tofu" (though, I mean, if that sounds good - go for it), I'm saying "it's a lot easier to practice heating a pan and flipping objects in a pan for a meal and seasoning objects in a pan when the objects in the pan cost two dollars instead of ten dollars."

Tofu lasts a lot longer in the fridge than meat does, is easy to season, and you can easily learn how to pan-fry it into a tasty snack (or main course) and only requires a little extra prep. You can also pretend that the tofu is raw meat (the texture isn't dissimilar) and start practicing for things like how to take it out of a package or cut it on a sanitizable surface, etc.

My favorite way to cook tofu is to press extra firm tofu for at least half an hour (you can get a cheap tofu press for around ten dollars, or you can put it between two plates with some books on the top plate - this is that extra prep i was talking about - tofu cooks best if you press the excess water out), then slice a 14oz cake of it into 8 slices. I lay these flat and sprinkle cayenne pepper, mushroom powder, and smoked paprika on all of the slices, then I rub it in and flip the slices and season the other side the same way. I cook it in a frying pan with a thin layer of avocado or olive oil over medium heat, flipping every two minutes until the flat sides start to crisp up a little. Just before the last flip I add about a tablespoon of tamari sauce (you can use soy sauce, I've just got allergies) to the pan, sprinkling it over the tofu so that both sides get a little bit of sauce on them.

I have that with steamed vegetables and with jasmine rice (with two teaspoons of rice wine vinegar per 3 cups of dry rice and 4.5 cups of water). I also make a honey-siracha-mayo sauce that I dip the tofu in.

It's really good. And now I end up eating leftover rice and sauce with fried eggs for lunch at least two days a week and that's also really good.

This has become one of my go-to low spoon foods because it's so easy to make, it's filling, it tastes good to me, and it has become extremely easy for me to keep a stock of tofu in the fridge compared to the effort of keeping un-expired meat in the fridge.

I find that a 14oz pack of tofu feeds two adults for one meal, though I can stretch that to three meals if I'm the only one eating.

It makes a very cheap, filling, easy dinner that I can keep the ingredients around for without too much concern for food waste or anything going bad (the tofu that I get lasts about a month in the fridge and these days I just buy three packs every time I'm at aldi and cycle in new stock - it costs $1.50 per pack)

If you're interested in becoming a better cook, rather than worrying about actual high-risk products like raw chicken that can be seriously dangerous and also cost a fair amount, tofu has a pretty low barrier to entry while also being a good way to learn on a new ingredient that has some similar properties to raw meat.

[thepalladium1]

What if the Beasts and Ancients swapped?

Once a benevolent ruler who sought only prosperity for her people, Gilded Curd Cookie’s desire for wealth and progress festered into an insatiable hunger. What began as a golden age of prosperity spiraled into a relentless pursuit of expansion, ambitions eclipsing all else. Now, the Beast of Avarice sees all things as possessions to be claimed, gilded touch turning all she covets into golden shackles.

A warrior tempered by the flames of battle, Roasted Cayenne Cookie always leaves the battlefield with a brighter spirit, heedless of a winning outcome. With the blaze of an unyielding heart, the Light of Renewal finds ways to turn the remnants of destruction into fertile ground for new beginnings.

--

i dont know what possessed me to make such banger designs compared to the previous two but god these go so hard. im definitely giving knowledge and volition redesigns in the future to look just as cool, but ill stick with them for now until i finish getting this au off the ground

previously: VOLITION

next up: HAPPINESS

[nadiajustbe]

Underrated HMC moments I've never seen anyone talking about part 2

Howl choosing "H. Jenkins" for the shop's sign wich is the one and only moment in the series he actually uses his legal initials, as "H" can stand for "Howl" and "Howell" in the same time

Lettie being so angry about Prince Justin calling her "a sweet lady" that she said that she would prefer ever Howl over him. Wich is. Telling.

The King assuring that he never pushed Justin off and that everyone who knows them both wouldn't assume that.

Sophie being so RAGED with the whole weedkiller and daffodils situation she wasn't saying A SINGLE FULL WORD for about a page in the least. All of the sounds were like "argh!" and "Sophie gave the wordless glump of range"

The seven-league boots having the funniest description of use ever, as every time someone used it then the effects were simply narrated as "Zip!"

Howl raises the skull and quotes Hamlet directly to it, wich becomes a hundred times funnier when you remember that this Skull is canonically and ironically the only "person" in the room who can understand the reference.

Howl saying "Denmark" in the same sentence. And, again, they're in a fairly tale fantasy word. Sophie has absolutely no clue what to hell is Denmark. For Howl this is the basic knowledge of elementary school level.

Poor Percival being almost KILLED for transforming in the middle of a valley because people thought he's a WEREWOLF.

Poor Percival being STROKED with information of him being made of part of two other people right after experiencing heavy trauma, beheading, physical damages, not really well-planed adopting and moving a house.

Percival describing laying on the shelf and looking at the other parts of himself. What a lovely kids book.

Sophie accidentally making cayenne pepper magical. She would make a great seller-witch career because she doesn't need to know the spell in order to make. She takes random powder. She says it will do the duel fair. It makes the duel fare by making an opponent sneezing uncontrollable (wich is also just a way cayenne pepper affects people lmao)

Sophie's first thoughts after she heard that Howl is leaving the black door knob where it is being "Of course! There's miss. Angorian!'. Sophie, dear, he has a family out there.

Michael, apparently, hiding the money under the same brick Sophie will soon describe in CITA as "the brick where we're hiding money from Howl"

Miss Angorian and Howl acting like the spell in a modern Wales is the most normal thing ever. "That's a spell!!" "Oh yeah of course I suspected that"

“Didn’t know I used to fly up the wing for my university, did you, Mrs. Nose?” “If you were trying to fly, you must have forgotten how,” aka Sophie absolutely not understanding modern world sport terminology

Drunk Howell trying to get through the door MULTIPLE times, bumping on it before "discovering" the door

Calcifer "taking" that huge mention they lived (and almost never visited) in without buying it. It was literally said the owner is just Not Here.

Sophie loosing an acces to her own room. Wich must be really sad.

Witch of the Waste leaning on a swing when literally capturing Howl's family

Additionaly: Howl canonically NOT altering his clothes while rushing to save his family. He was running around in a long-sleeved medieval closes on a welsh playground

Sophie and miss Angorian having a whole fight over the guitar pulling it back and forward while it was making horrible sounds

Sophie literally pushing miss. Angorian off the house using the said guitar

Howl immediatly reacting when someone mentioned that the star Michael tried to catch looks sad.

Scarecrow literally running around with parts of Justin's body on its sticky shoulders for eighty percent of the book's finale

Howl saying he could be "the evil fairy at his own christening" which is probably a reference to the "Sleeping Beaty". Also. rises a question: did Howl HAD a christening. There's a huge chance he actually did.

Ben and Justin just. smiling at each other for enough amount of time for Sophie's narrative to say "If she had paid any attention she would see them". Am I interuppting something???

Lettie hating Howl's courting SO MUCH she asked Percival to bite him several times.

Additionally: Ben apologising to Howl for trying to bite him. That's also probably first time they're interacting

Howl ignoring all of it because sOPHIE HATTER

[januaryembrs]

Hi!! Could I please order a spicy hot chocolate for Spencer Reid? (Like you know, the ones that people put cayenne pepper in?!)

You’re an incredible writer and human!

BROTHER'S BEST FRIEND | Spencer Reid x Reader

description: your brother brings home his dorky college classmate, Spencer

length: 2.5k

warnings: spicy, SMUT (omg Em attempts smut and even then its pretty tame but why are my hands shaking), minors dni! heed my warnings this is not for you minors!! nipple stuff, mens genitalia mentioned, Spencer and reader get horny for one another oop. I really hope this is okay I've literally written smut once and even then I second guessed myself so much. SEASON ONE GLASSES SPENCE. BROTHER'S BEST FRIEND SPENCE. smut under the cut.

You felt eyes on you without even having to turn where you were stuffing laundry into the washing machine, your face sweaty with the midsummer heat. 

“Jesus Christ, you look like Hot Topic threw up on you,” Your brother’s voice resounded as two sets of footsteps entered the kitchen, and someone cleared their throat where you were bent over, denim shorts riding high up your ass cheeks. 

Flicking a look over your shoulder, you pulled the spoon full of peanut butter out of your mouth, yanking a headphone out of your ear to address him. 

“Don’t shit your pants, dickbrains, it’s all I have until my clothes are clean,” You snapped at Ryan, tongue dancing with the creamy, sweet spread, and your eyes dropped to his left where his best friend fussed over his sweater cuffs, a duffel bag on his back, and your eyes softened as you saw Spencer looking flushed in your kitchen, “Hi, Spence,” 

“Hi,” He peeped shyly, and you smiled widely at the obscenely tall boy who had been to your house a number of times. Ryan had met Spencer on the first day of college, or at least his first day. For Spencer, it had been six years already, his third doctorate well underway, and the two had quickly bonded over something dumb and nerdy you’d never bothered to take note of. You clicked the dials on the machine to a low setting, pouring some detergent into the drum and pressing the ‘Start’ button.

“You guys doing homework?” You asked, fixing where your shirt slouched off the side of your shoulder, exposing your lack of bra and baring your collar bones, and you were quick to catch the way Spencer’s hazel hues fell there with something fleeting and guilty in his expression. 

“We’re not twelve years old calculating how many watermelons Sally and Jess have all together,” Your brother scoffed, screwing his lips in annoyance, just as much as any twenty year old pumped full of hormones and energy drinks. “We’re writing a paper on thermodynamics; Spencer’s staying over tonight,”

Rolling your eyes at his know it all snark, you pulled a face back at him, despite the fact you were one year older. You looked to his left where Spencer stuffed his hands in his pockets, his cheeks pink as he caught himself like a fly in honey in one of your usual arguments. 

“Do you want a drink, Spence?” You offer, ignoring Ryan’s shitty attitude, heading over to the fridge and swinging the door open, your fathers bottles of beer clinking together where they lay flat on the top shelf. 

“Soda would be great, please,” Spencer murmured, trying not to stare as you leaned over, those little, black hot pants skirting up so far his face felt feverish and he forced himself to look at the linoleum tiles in a scrambled attempt to control his thoughts. 

He felt like a kid again, with a stupid little crush on the older girl who batted her lashes and called him Spence and smiled at him like you knew exactly how you made that big brain of his turn to mush when you spoke to him. 

Handing him a Coke, he tried to ignore the way your cold fingers brushed and avoided your gaze at all cost.

“Thankyou,” He said, his voice cracking in the very middle of it in a way that made him feel like a total loser, and he heard you giggle, his neck growing a prickling hot. 

Before you could say much else, his friend grabbed his sleeve, tugging him in the direction of his room where you couldn’t bother them anymore. 

Spencer was thinking about your laugh the entire afternoon, until they gave up writing and turned to watching Star Trek, the evening air quickly turning humid and dark, and he begged the tightness in his boxers to leave him be for even just a second.

Only, he found no such luck, tortured by the thought of you being just a single flight of stairs away from him. 

–

You were doing dishes by the time you heard him again. Assuming it was Ryan, you made no effort to greet him since it usually was only responded with a grunt or cuss anyways. 

Except you could tell by the footsteps that were too careful, the presence that was too soft, even by the way he cleared his throat nervously, that it certainly wasn’t your obnoxious brother who had come into the kitchen for a midnight snack. 

Whirling around at the sound, Spencer stood on the other side of the dining table you'd been sitting at just a few hours ago eating pasta and listening to your mom recounting her stressful day in the office. Thin, framed glasses perched on his nose, ones you’d never seen before, glinting in the light from the oven as he blinked at you behind the lenses. 

“Spence,” You said with a tired smile, eyes dropping to his shirt and plaid trousers, “Cute jammies,” 

He paused for a second, looking down to the grey Doctor Who set, a diagram of the TARDIS splayed across his chest, and he blanked when he tried to figure out if you were kidding or being genuine, “Thank you. You too,”

He didn’t know why he’d said it, maybe because that’s just what you do when someone is being kind, except only then did he look at what you were wearing, and impossibly so it was even more scandalous than what you were wearing earlier. 

A tank top, if he could even call it that with how far it rode up, and a lacy pair of blush underwear, a pretty white bow resting just below your belly button. 

Following his gaze as it devoured your exposed appendage, you grinned at him devilishly, “Sorry, it gets pretty hot in my room at night,” 

“Y-yeah I can imagine you-you’re hot,” He stammered, realising what he said when you raised a brow at him, “B-because you’re a floor up, I mean, and heat rises because hot air has a lower particle density than cool air although some physicians believe-”

“I know what you meant, Spence,” You said with a smirk, moving around the table to stand in front of him, your feet padding softly against the cold floor. Looking up at him with a tilted head, you inspected the frames you realised were a mahogany brown now you were close enough to see them properly, you peered past the lenses and right into where his doe eyes stared back at you, skittish and flustered, “Are these new?” 

Spencer licked his lips nervously, “I used to wear glasses when I was a kid but now I wear contacts,” He said, rubbing clammy palms over his trousers. He could smell your detergent from here, the same one he’d seen you pour over your laundry just a few hours earlier, ‘Blossom breeze’ or something girly and sweet and floral like that. He didn’t know the brand, but it was entirely intoxicating, except he suspected it had nothing to do with the liquid and more to do with the fact he could see your nipples pressing against your shirt when you stood so close to him, “Girls don’t really think scrawny guys in glasses are.. hot,” 

You sniggered, though your brows furrowed the slightest bit, “Who told you that?” 

“Lot’s of girls, more than once actually, it’s just kind of common knowledge,” He fumbled, his chest pricking with nerves when your fingers moved up to grip his waist gently, thumbs danced down his hip bones, the gentle touch alone stirring his cock into a painfully hard stance. He gulped, the sound loud in the sombre twilight of the kitchen, and for a guy who had aced every single test he’d ever taken, who played chess against himself for fun to guess his next five moves, Spencer had no clue where he existed outside of your body so close to his, looking at him like he was a puppy begging for treats if he gave paw. 

“I think those girls are absolute boneheads if they can’t see how pretty you are, Spence,” You said his name as if it was the only one that had ever mattered, and he couldn’t help how his chest swelled at the sentiment, even if he wasn’t so off guard as to actually believe that. You’d always had this way of making people feel special, he saw it at your family barbecue last Summer, when your cousins flocked around you like you were their Queen Bee, how you seemed to make waiters and waitresses alike flush under your preening smiles and 'please's and 'thankyou's whenever you took Spencer and your brother out for dinner. 

“T-thankyou,” He replied after a thick breath, his chest rattling as you pulled him towards your calm figure, and he let himself be guided like he were leashed, “Y-you’re pretty too,”

He wanted to tell you so much more than that, that you were beautiful like all the popular girls at school were, only humble and kind like the golden part of you glittered inside too, except before he could even attempt at expanding on his three pathetic little words he’d stammered through laboured breaths, he effectively got fully disconnected from his brain when you leaned in towards his face and brushed your nose against his, testing the waters. 

Your gaze trailed up to his innocently, so close he could feel your minty breaths fanning over his bottom lip, and he guessed you’d already brushed your teeth ready for bed. 

“You really think I’m pretty, Spence?” You asked naively, even if he knew it was just because he forgot how to speak when you were too forward, as if you were trying not to spook a deer. He nodded quickly, his eyes zeroing on where your mouth was mere centimetres away from him, one single shiver in his spine and he would be kissing you, and like you’d heard his train of thought, you pushed your lips against his softly, his body jolting with an electric shock. 

There could be sirens surrounding the entire house and he would be none the wiser, because in mere seconds his blood was rushing through his eardrums, sounding like radio static, and it was only when he felt the vibration of it against his mouth did he realise you’d whined, and his hands sprung to life, cupping both your cheeks and tugging you closer to his face as if he was clinging onto every second of the feeling. 

Spencer groaned, a sound he didn’t even realise he was going to make until he felt your fingers squeeze him lightly, and he snapped back into his body like a hair tie slinging him back into a world where the girl he’d had a teeny, tiny, maddening crush on for months was making out with him in her kitchen. 

“‘Gotta be quiet, baby, my parents are asleep,” You said, breathless as you ripped yourself away from him, despite the fact he was insistently pulling you back towards his mouth, and you smiled up at his urgency, “You ever kissed a girl before, Spence?”  

He sighed, and you’d never counted him as sassy until you heard it, almost spoiled and bratty now you’d given him a taste of heaven and held it back from him for the sake of small talk.

“Once, at recess in fifth grade, but it wasn’t like this,” He said, yanking you back towards him ravenously, and you let him devour your lips again, grinning into his desperate mouth, “Never been like this,” 

You weren’t sure whether he meant himself or what was likely a peck on the lips between kids as a dare, but you didn’t think too hard about it, as you slotted yourself back into his rough hands, calluses on the insides of his right fingertips from the years holding a pen so hard he might just break it. He felt your mouth open, and he followed your lead, your tongue feathering out with a shyness you showed nowhere else. And it was like every single statistic and number and fact about sharing saliva flew out of his head with wanton need as he dove right for the source, the tip of his tongue meeting yours with a warm nudge and he heard you mewl in pleasure. 

Spencer didn’t know what had come over him. Only moments ago he’d been too nervous to even look at you in fear of stumbled around a few syllables and calling them words. Yet here he was, his glasses slipping down his nose and pressing against the bridge of your own, your chest pressed so close to him he could feel your nipples pebbling against his TARDIS shirt, and it was like it was then he remembered you had no bottoms on except your panties. 

He hooked a hand underneath one of your legs, hiking it up to his waist and pushing even further up against you, the sudden movement making you gasp, your lower back hitting the dining table as his pubic bone ground against the ball of nerves that had been aching since you caught him shuffling around your kitchen in his damn Doctor Who pyjamas. 

Sliding his broad fingers up, your skin spread into gooseflesh and it was your turn to become putty under his touch as he bravely grabbed a handful of your arse, though his touch was still light and uncertain if he was crossing any boundaries. The change in position meant you felt yourself leaning back, your spine spreading out like a cat in warm sunlight, and he was quick to accommodate you, ever eager to please as Spencer was, moving away from the warmth of your mouth and kissing his way down to your pulse, the feeling of it making both of you hum on quietened tones in pleasure. 

“Why have we never done this before?” You asked breathlessly, your chest rising frantically as you gasped for air, a hushed moan bleeding into your airways. 

Spencer held you upright with one of his long arms, thought his mouth devoured a path over your collar bones, heading right for where your breasts lay in wait, and he didn’t even bother trying to remove your top as he kissed over your nipple with hungry, warm lips. 

“I dunno, probably because Ryan wouldn’t be too happy with me trying to fuck his sister while he’s eating dinner,” Spencer said without thinking, his tone sharp and witty as ever, like the noises you were making and the desperation in your touch seemed to rewire his thoughts into something overindulged. 

But you laughed, loud enough you slapped a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from waking up the whole house, because you had no idea how you’d explain to them why you and Spencer had ended up half sprawled on the dining table as he practically fixed himself onto every inch of you. And without warning he chuckled too, the vibration blowing over your skin that was already humming with excitement. 

“Do you think we could do this more often?” You asked, raising yourself up onto your elbows as his hands spread over your stomach, riding your top up just the smallest bit so he could kiss over your stomach, his pupils blown out into planets behind his glasses, his cheeks tinged raspberry red, his gaze drunken like he was in some sort of sugar rush only ready to stop when he’d gotten his fill, though at the rate he was going Spencer thought that day might not actually come. 

You were a drug, a nectar he’d never come close to, and he felt like every kiss to your skin only made that well in his stomach dig deeper and deeper, possibly never running dry as his every thought overflowed with drops of you, and your smell, and your taste, and your tongue. 

Missing your lips, he moved back up to your face, crashing his mouth back onto yours as your fingers raked through his hair, the sensation jolting his rod like appendage into you own pelvis, the two of you shivering with the feeling of it. 

“I think we can arrange that,” He murmured, and you grinned up at him devilishly as he fiddled with the cotton hem of your underwear nervously, his boldness wearing off as he saw that glint in your eyes that spelled trouble. But he understood that nervous and excitement felt so similar it was easy to mistake one for the other, perhaps even mesh both together at the same time, and the logical explanation for his clammy hands and racing heart seemed to soothe him the slightest bit. 

He loved sleepovers at your house.

[reality-detective]

Did You Know❓

Cayenne Pepper can stop a heart attack!

Cayenne Pepper is a natural vasodilator which can get your blood circulation flowing!

- Barbara O'neill 🤔

[written-in-flowers]

The Places Between Us: The Goblin Merchant: (OT8 X Fem!Reader)

Pairing: Kang Yeosang x Fem!Reader | Side pairings: Hongjoong x Fem!reader, Ateez x Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut, Angst, fluff | AU: Fantasy!au

Word Count: 13k

Summary: Being brought to Tin City by goblin traffickers, YN is brought right to the palace of the Merchant Prince, Yeosang, who takes an immediate shine to her. Unfortunately, his plans might be the end for her.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Overall Tags: dub-con, mind control, enslavement, kidnapping, forced breeding, monster fucking, sex work, mentions/implications of abuse, mentions/implications of SA, stockholm syndrome, public sex, exhibitionism, humiliation, degradation, breeding kink, bigdick!Seonghwa, bigdick!Yunho, DoubleDick!Yunh, monster fucking, face fucking, throat fucking, undead sex, sex w/ undead, belly bulge, anal sex, anal fingering, vaginal sex, multiple positions, multiple orgasms, squirting/vaginal ejaculation, slight size kink (height wise), overstimulation, facials, cum swallowing, choking, dom!ateez, sub!reader, tit fucking, sex toys, bondage, multiple partners, threesome (m/m/f), orc!jongho, naga!seonghwa, demon!hongjoong, dragon!yunho, undead!mingi, goblin!yeosang, lycan!san, lycan!wooyoung.

Taglist: @binniesbabe @stay-tiny-things @oiminho @babymbbatinygirl @sopematesxx @pirana10 @juicyjaxxy @corgilover20 @kinkymaminicole, @londonbridges01 @readerofallthingss @dvbkie099 @cpg2020 @raralxyne, ((if you want to be tagged for future chapters, let me know in the replies!)

Part 4: The Lycan Brothers < | > Part 6: The Orc Warchief

****

Ace and Sprocket kept you in the cage all the way through the forest. You didn’t bother asking where they were taking you. You already knew.: Tin City, the goblin capital of the world. An industrial cityscape, smog and smoke turned the blue clear skies a murky green and brown. Factory smokestacks went high up into the sky, covering the mountain range beyond from view. Buildings made of metal, Tin City was the most technologically advanced city in the kingdom. Electrical lampposts glowed on the side corners, while motor cars rode up and down the cemented streets. 

By passing banks, clothing stores, and houses, Ace eventually drove to a large building in the heart of the city. Dozens of people walked in and out of them: some hauled large crates or sacks over their shoulders, others stood outside haggling over goods on wagons, but it was the cages you noticed. People of all races stayed chained inside them like you, frightened of their goblin captors holding long electrical cattle-prods.

Above the large door was a sign of two crossing gavels. An auction house.

“Hey, Rambo,” Ace called out to a goblin standing outside the house’s gate. “What’s the word on the street?”

“Word on the street is that cayenne spice prices are low and cloth bolts are going sky high,” he responded in a rough voice. He took a puff of his cigar, then said, “The Bookies down in the Oil Trap are taking bets on tonight’s dog fights. Rumor is Yeo’s got his dogs in the game. I’d get my slips in if I were you.”

“Good to know, good to know,” he replied, nodding in understanding. “Look, I got some product to move and I was hoping to let the big guy get first dibs.” He nodded to the cage behind him, “Any chance you got any extra invites hanging in those big pockets?”

“I might have one or two,” Rambo said suspiciously. “Five-hundred each.”

“Five-hundred?”

“You want in the party or not, Ace?”

“I ain’t paying-”

“-Ace, we’ll make it all back when we sell this off,” Sprocket said. “Don’t get stingy now.”

“Ugh fine, but if this is a bust, you owe me, Sprocket.”

Rambo eyed the cage as Ace dug out his wallet. He spotted you curled in the corner and smirked. “Hey, if Yeo isn’t interested,” he said to Ace, “Can I get an hour with the human? I love ‘em.”

“We’ll see. Thanks for the invites.”

Ace climbed back into the car, and drove away. Great, another warlord you’re being sold to. You didn’t see how you’d be getting out of this place. It was too crowded, and too many eyes lurking on the streets. You’re sure the place is lit up even in the dead of night. Closing your eyes, you tried not focusing on the slight vibrations the car’s motor sent throughout the cage floor. It faintly tickled your bare center, and you recalled the two goblins taking equal turns on you. Maybe they’d do it again if this ‘Prince’ didn’t want you. They might decide not to sell you and keep you chained up for personal use. The image had you dripping in minutes. 

Then you shook it away. 

They drove up a hill to a large palace made of metal and stone. A long line of cars went through a guarded gate one by one, likely having their invitations checked by large, armored trolls. Your stomach churned seeing one of them check Ace and Sprocket’s invites, declaring them valid, and letting them drive on through. Yes, there’d be no getting out of this place unarmed. Goblins tended to have armories or sell weapons. “Yeo” might be in the weapons business and have something useful lying around. 

Driving up into a foyer between entry gate and palace gate, you saw dozens of goblins dressed in flashy clothes with jewelry and hair ornaments. Everyone looked decked out in their finest clothes for this occasion. Suddenly, you became aware of your dirty appearance. You scratched off some of the mud caked on your thighs, and tried fixing your matted hair. 

Ace was directed to a special area in the parking lot for “party supplies”. Sprocket went around to the cage door while his partner handled the proper documentation. Roughly tugging each woman out of the cage, he hooked one leash to the back of the other and put cuffs around everyone’s wrists. With the wrist cuffs and leash chained to the girl in front of you, the four of you had no choice but to walk in sync. You saw nearby goblins spotting you in your dirty, naked state and laugh behind their hands. The three women in front of you at least wore ragged clothing. You only wore your boots and your blanket. 

“This is the product?” A goblin said from a doorway as they approached. He had skin like an orange peel and eyes black as onyx gems. 

“Yeah,” Sprocket said, “Four ladies.”

The goblin looked all of you over. “A bit grubby looking, especially that one at the end. Take them to Trixie. She’ll get ‘em cleaned up.”

“Gotcha, thanks.”

Sprocket marched you to another room where you saw people being scrubbed down, hosed off, and then forced behind dressing curtains. Stylists walked to and from the booths with aprons holding hair supplies or makeup. Some of the victims fussed in their chairs and had to be restrained. You saw one woman be prodded with an electric rod when she tried leaving her styling chair. Another man was beaten with a heavy club when he fought off the female goblin trying to fix a pair of tiny shorts on him. The ones who weighed your heart were the defeated ones. Men and women who’d become so used to the routine that they complied automatically. The misery in their eyes struck your chest. 

“Oh gosh! What happened to this one?”

Your captor brought you over to a singular booth where a goblin in a shimmery purple top and matching skirt stood holding a pair of scissors. Her bright blue hair tied behind her head, she’d bought sapphire earrings to match. She stared at you, stunned and shocked as she started circling you. 

“Found her in the woods,” Sprocket answered. “You think you can fix her up? This one’s got lots of potential. She’s a real money maker, trust me.”

“Hm,” the stylist, Trixie, took in your features from several inches below, “I got my work cut out for me. She’s pretty. A good scrubbing, a bit of styling and a nice dress will get people fighting for a bite of her. Plex,” she called to another female goblin, “Give her the basic makeover. Put her in the red number.”

“Sure thing, boss-lady. Come on, you.”

Plex unhooked your chains and tugged you along. The “bath” consisted of a harsh rinse, itchy sponges and brushes, sickly-sweet smelling soaps, and another cold rinse. Plex stuck you underneath a vent that blew hot air through your hair and body, which dried you in minutes, then took you to a dressing station. One goblin got to work on your makeup while another started styling your hair. They commented on your beauty. They claimed they’d never seen a human so pretty before. You’d be a real big deal once you got on the party floor. 

In a skin tight crimson dress bordered with black lace, you’ll admit you looked great. The fishnet stockings just barely touched the end of the short dress, and the black heels gave you a few more inches. They’d decided on a thong for your underwear, but no bra since the dress came with a built-in one. It stuck between your cheeks, only bringing back your arousal. Thankfully, the three goblins were too focused on your face to notice the mark on your back. 

“You did a damn good job, Trix,” Sprocket said when you were brought back to him. “I hardly recognized her. I think we might have a shot at getting in Yeo’s good graces. Ace wants his endorsement.”

“Good luck getting it,” Trixie replied. “Yeo’s hard to please.”

“This little gal won’t have a problem pleasing him,” he chuckled, slapping your ass and giving it a squeeze. “Ain’t that right, honey?”

“You’re so uncouth, Sprock,” Trixie scoffed, shaking her head. “Lug,” she called to a nearby troll, “Take these favors up to the party.” She considered you for a moment, “Take her to Yeo’s VIP section with the other specials. He might be interested.”

“Uh-huh,” the troll, Lug, said in a hoarse voice. “Come favors.”

“Hey, so, Trix, are you going up to the party when you’re done?” 

Lug took you and the others from the prep room and up a flight of stairs. The loud music hit you through a metal door, bathing your senses when he opened it. Goblins of all shades hung around a massive pool, a few wearing bathing suits while others stayed in their finery. They drank champagne, liquor and beer. They ate from hearty plates of hor'dourves, and played with fireworks. Some played card or dice games in one corner, the loser groaning and winner cheering. You couldn’t help noticing the men and women wearing collars and being tugged around by goblins and trolls. In one particular corner, you saw a young fairy maiden dancing in nothing but a bikini bottom. The goblins around her hooted and hollered, waving paper bills at her. Another male slave sat on a couch while two female goblins groped and caressed him. Neither looked pleased by this, and you frowned. 

The troll brought you over to a large cabana set up near the pool. It was roped off to keep out the ‘riff-raff’ of the party, and you saw personal servants supplying food and drinks to those inside. 

“Favors,” Lug said to a bouncer posted outside. 

The bouncer looked over the four chained women. He started walking along the line. “Nah, not this one. He’s got plenty of ‘em. You can give this one off to Weegel,” he said about the elf in the front. He walked to the siren beside her, “Nah, he don’t like fish girls. Nils will take her though, and Yeo’s got to keep her happy if he wants her ships.” He reached the red-haired fairy with her green wings, and shook his head. “Jard doesn’t mind the glitter or the wings. I’m sure the seller will get a good price for her.” Then, he stopped in front of you. He didn’t say anything at first and you dreaded the worst before he unhooked you from the line. “We’ll take this one.” 

Lug nodded, then dragged the other girls away. The bouncer took you into the tent. Whoever owned this section kept it styled with comfortable seating, and plenty of food, drink and entertainment. 

“Hey, boss,” the bouncer called to someone on the opposite side, “I got a nice favor for you. Courtesy of Ace Crank and Sprocket Botguard.”

“Do I know those guys?” 

“You know Ace,” he responded. “Green guy? Got two gold teeth? Sounds like he’s been chain smoking since birth?”

“Ah, yeah, I remember him. Bring her here.”

The bouncer pushed you forward. Sitting on a velvet purple throne was a younger goblin. Wearing a leather jacket over a glittering green button down, he stood out from the well-dressed people around him. Firstly, his beige skin separated him from the green and brown goblins sitting near. He had black hair streaked with neon green, matching his shirt and the belt around his jeans. His large, wide ears had golden hoops along the bottom edges, as well as a stud in his left nostril. He sat leaning back in the chair with a female goblin in a bikini on his lap. She was smiling at him, refilling his champagne glass as she flirted with him. 

However, that stopped when he finally looked over at you. Brown eyes scanned over you in your red dress and black heels, intrigue instantly coming through in a small smirk. 

“Well, hey now,” he said, pushing the girl off his lap much to her protest. “What do we have here?”

He left his chair and walked over to you, finishing his drink in the process. His eyes came at level with your chest, which suited him just fine as that’s what he focused on the most. Having him so close, lust coming off of him, had you fighting off the burning in your mark. 

“Since when does Ace have such nice merchandise?” he asked nobody in particular, circling you slowly. “She’s fine. Super fine. What’s your name, doll?”

“YN.”

“YN…” he let the name rest on his tongue, then said, “I like that. It suits you.” He gave your ass a gentle squeeze that you forced yourself to not react. “Ooh, yeah, that’s nice. Let me get a little peek of what you got back here.” You bit your inner cheek as he lifted the back of your dress just over your ass. “That’s a nice ass you got here, doll. Ain’t it nice, Vixel?”

“Very nice, boss,” the bouncer agreed. 

“Do you know who I am, babygirl?”

“No.”

“Then you must not be from around here.” He hummed softly when he tugged on your thong, tracing it with his finger and pulling it aside for a moment. “I’m Yeo, Trade Prince of the Northern Seas. I own a fleet of a thousand ships that move products all over the kingdom. I’ve traded with kings and queens, lords and ladies, and all the rest. Even Lord Kim sometimes buys off me. I’m a big deal on this side of the kingdom. Everyone owes me, and everyone pays.” He stopped playing with your thong and moved to the front, “I’m a hardworking man, you see, so every now and then I like a bit of comfort and stress-relief. I think every man deserves that, right?” 

People around him agreed, and he nodded. He started feeling up your sides, starting at your hips and sliding to the curves of your breasts. Yeo smirked when he noticed your hard nipples poking out, but didn’t touch them. 

“How about you sit with me, baby, and tell me how you got to my humble abode?” 

He brought you to his chair, a throne big enough for two and handed you a drink. The fizzy pink drink tasted like strawberries, and was oddly refreshing. It was the first proper thing you’d consumed since your last stop before reaching Tin City, which had been a slice of bread and water. Beside him, your tits stayed at his level, which he enjoyed immensely. Being so close to him feeling his hand slid over your thighs, had you dying for more. This was why you needed to escape. 

“Where are you from, baby?” Yeosang asked, nuzzling your neck. 

“Gold Rush. It’s in the south,” you said, sipping your drink. 

“I figured that. You got that southern girl look about you,” he said. “I do a lot of good business down there. Have you ever heard of Vernon Chwe? I do business with his Pop. It’s mostly grain and wheat, but it’s a steady income.” The name made you tense, and Yeosang noticed this. “So you do know him. I bet he’s gotten a crack at this a few times,” he gave your thigh a squeeze. “I know I'm going to later,” he murmured, staring at your cleavage. “What brought you so far from home?”

“Wanted to get out,” you shrugged. “See the world and all that.”

“Ha, looks like you got to see the world alright,” he laughed. “But, maybe you were meant to go through all those trials to get to me.”

“Maybe.”

“Hey, Yeo!”

As he talked to a friend, you stared around the pool area. The high fence keeps intruders out and slaves in. The guards positioned around the place held various weapons ranging from daggers to pistols. By the look of them, they wouldn't hesitate to shoot you if you tried escaping. You were screwed. Totally screwed. How could you get out of here? Maybe you should have listened to the voice. 

A sudden moan broke you from your head. You looked up to see one of the elf dancers bouncing in somebody’s lap. They’d taken off her top, so her breasts jiggled whenever she moved. This obviously pleased the goblins around her, who egged her on with suggestive, lewd comments. Being an elf, she towered over her partner who was several feet shorter than her. Long silver hair curtained a heart-shaped face, and pale lavender skin shone with a light layer of sweat. By the cuffs on her wrists, you knew she had no choice in this matter, but was so beaten down, she accepted her fate. Seeing her half-naked, riding the small goblin, and letting out wanton moans, you gulped thickly. You drowned out the rising arousal with your drink, hoping it cooled your cheeks, but it didn’t. Soon, people around the group noticed. 

“Do you like watching, doll?” Yeosang asked in your ear, his hand sliding up your thigh. 

“N-No,” you lied, though you couldn't take your eyes off the elven girl. 

“Eh, I don’t think that’s true,” he clicked his tongue. His hand went back down to your knee, then to your inner thigh again, fingers treading lightly over it. “You’re staring at her pretty hard. Do you like girls?” 

“Um, uh, well…”

“God, that’s hot,” he exhaled deeply, taking your answer for a ‘yes’. “I have plenty of other girls we could play with another time. Tonight, baby,” he ran his hand up to your chest, playing with your neckline, “I want it to be you, me, and my toys.” His breathing got slightly heavier, and he licked his lips. You gasped when he slid onto your lap, fitting there like a child might. “It’s so rare to find a girl who gets me hot like you do,” he said, starting to gently tug down the top-half of your dress. “The others do well enough, but…damn, not like you…” 

You held back a gasp when he finally revealed your breasts. He groaned softly at the sight of them, supple and filling his hand when he grabbed them both. His thumbs tracing the outer rim of your nipples, he placed tender kisses up your neck. You glanced back over to the elf, who was starting to shake as they’d spread her out for another goblin to lap at her clit. Around the room, you saw people in various positions already enjoying one another. While the normal party carried on outside, Yeosang’s VIP tent became a full on orgy section. Your body instinctively started grinding into your partner’s groin, feeling the hard bulge poking the middle. 

“I think I’m in love,” Yeosang chuckled, licking one of your nipples. “A hot girl with nice tits who’s dying to fuck me? How lucky can a guy get?” 

The ball pierced to his tongue started whirling around your nipple, the metal grazing over it each time. You pictured it in other places as he grinded against you. Yeosang lost himself in his own world; your body being the world he wanted to explore. His cock pressed to your stomach mostly, and you were tempted to touch it. 

“Go on, baby,” he groaned, your tit popping out of his mouth, “Grope me.”

Not big at all, you imagined his size worked wonders on regular goblin women. For you, it might only go halfway. Yeosang let out a low groan when you cupped her entire crotch, fingers rolling over his balls while your palm pressed to his short shaft. He buried his face between your breasts, humming and licking where he could while teasing your nipples. He kissed up to your neck. 

“Bet I can make you cum just by playing with these,” he said, sucking on the tender part of your chest. “Want me to show you?”

“Yes.”

Yeosang went back to fondling, sucking and licking your breasts. You clenched your thighs as you continued stroking him. Your mark radiated heat through your dress, the fire adding another layer of pleasure. Yeosang’s pierced tongue ignited the small sparks on your nipples that went to your center. He made small patterns, licked in different angles and sucked hard on them until you were squirming in his chair. It was like a drug. You kept wanting more even when he took it further. Hand working his crotch, the other slipped into his hair to hold him against one breast. Your walls started clenching for some stimulation; the wetness pooling in your thong turned your folds sticky and slippery, so you could feel them move when you squeezed your thighs. Feeling your grip on him tighten, Yeosang continued groaning against you and squeezing your breasts. You suddenly shuddered, wriggling in the seat as your orgasm hit you. In a few jerking motions, it ended. 

“Good, huh?” He said, kissing your puckered nipples. 

“So good,” you nodded, “My turn.”

He eventually rolled back into his seat and you felt the slight tingle in your mark on your back. All the desire in your body flared up like a firework, and every part of you felt sensitive to his touch. You got down on your knees without being told, causing Yeosang to lean back and watch you start kissing his hard bulge. His cock was right underneath the layers of denim and cloth, hot and begging for your touch. You rubbed along the thick shaft a few times before unbuckling his trousers. 

“That’s what I like,” Yeosang moaned, lips parted, “A slut who does it without being told.”

He wasn’t long, but he was girthy. Flushed pink with a hot red tip, you started softly kissing the bulbous head while looking up at him. Your pussy throbbed just licking him. Like with Seonghwa, the act alone aroused you. Realizing how much he liked your breasts, you didn’t waste time in burying him between them. Yeosang shifted in his seat at this, gripping one arm rest while the other teased your nipple. Spitting on the tip, you used it to lubricate him. His dick completely disappeared between your soft mounds, the tip only just poking out each time you met his hips. The goblin prince let out strings of moans and praises while you worked him. You loved hearing the deep groans you created, the sound of them turning you on more. Soon, desperation had Yeosang holding both breasts and pushing into them himself. You slipped two fingers over your dripping cunt, spreading the mess over your velvety lips and folds. 

“That’s right, baby,” he said, groaning when you took the head in your mouth. “Play with yourself for me. I want you soaked by the time I use my toys on you.” 

Moaning freely now, you whimpered as you rapidly rubbed over your clit. It was too much, but somehow not enough. His precum spilled onto your tongue, and you eagerly sucked it up. So good. So sweet. 

“Come on,” Yeosang said hurriedly, “Get in the house. I’m fucking you now.”

Nobody noticed you being ushered into the house behind the tent. The people inside hadn’t realized the orgy going on just a few feet from the door; too busy drinking and dancing to care. Yeosang nearly dragged you upstairs, then into a locked bedroom. 

Yeosang did not hide his wealth at all. Expensive art pieces decorated the walls, with a walk-in closet full of expensive, tailored clothes. Big enough for eight people or several goblins, the bed was covered in deep plum blankets and sheets. Even with his shortness, Yeosang handled you without a problem, nearly throwing you onto his bed before jumping on top of it. You moaned as he forced your legs open and buried his face in your cunt. He threaded the thong between the smooth lips, leaving just enough cloth over your clit to leave it exposed, then licked at each side. His tongue briefly touched the sides of your clit, which had you writhing for more. 

“Delicious,” he groaned, “And so wet. I’m definitely keeping you, pretty girl. Your cunt is all mine now.”

“Yeo…Yeo…” you breathed his name, grabbing your chest to squeeze them for him. 

“That's right, baby doll. Say Daddy's name. I want to hear you screaming it.”

“Yeo!” you cried when he rapidly licked at it.

“My name sounds way better coming from that sweet mouth,” he groaned. “Goblin chicks are too high or too low. I like a nice medium. An instant favorite.” 

He tugged the underwear upwards to tighten the fabric between your lips, creating a rubbing that pushed your hips to his face. Yeosang sucked up the juices leaking from your entrance, groaning at the taste and digging for more of it. You whined when he pulled away to tear off your thong and dress. Hunger and eagerness had the goblin tearing at the expensive silk and lace, eyes feasting on the body becoming exposed to him. 

“Don’t worry, babe,” he said, “I’ll buy you a whole wardrobe of pretty clothes when we’re done here. I don’t leave my girls naked for just any guy to see.” 

Since he was so much shorter, his head only reached up to your chest if he wanted to stay pressed to your pussy. He didn’t mind this, since he buried his face in them when you squeezed them together. His keenness became more obvious when he removed his own clothes and showed off his slim, lean body to you. It made you ache to touch him again. He reached to an end table, and you bit your lip when he took it out. Small, pink and egg-shaped, you had no idea what it was though you sensed its purpose.

“Open wide, baby,” Yeosang breathed, eagerly watching as your body sucked in the small toy. 

In a few seconds, a sudden, light vibration started inside you. You gripped the pillows as it overwhelmed every conscious sense. Each vibrating pulse crept through to your center where you grinded up into the air. When Yeosang's tongue went back to flicking your clit, you nearly came right then. 

“That….That feels so….Oh god,” you cried out, unable to handle it any longer. 

Yeosang knelt up, tapping his cock on your sex before slowly slipping the toy further inside with it. Not long enough to reach fully inside, the toy made up for the rest by vibrating against your g-spot. It felt a million times better than anything you had before. Stars exploded behind your eyelids as your orgasm burst within you, Yeosangs's careful thrusts only just pressing it further on you. Yet, even after the body shattering climax you wanted more. The burning mark made you endure more of him, craving the cum he carried. 

“Such a pretty girl,” Yeosang said, slipping out to withdraw the egg toy. “We're only just getting started, baby. You'll get what you need from me soon.”

He rifled through the nightstand for another toy, a wand with a ball at the end. As expected, the moment Yeosang pressed it on you, you trembled all over. The pinching sensitivity sparking from your clit brought equal measures of pleasure and pain. You moved away from the toy before Yeosang brought you down with surprising strength. He moved it side to side, cooing when you shook. 

“Yeo-Yeosang!” you cried. 

“How does that feel?”

“So good! Oh my god!”

“It'll feel even better soon, I promise.”

That was when he plunged himself past your walls again. His thick shaft stretched you considerably; you could feel the pressure, even if it was painless. The toy worked one side, his cock twitched and pulsed against your walls. He kept one knee up to his shoulder, your leg draping over and accentuating his small size compared to yours. Only three feet tall, he couldn’t reach for much but his toys made up for it.

When he gave your clit a break, he rolled you onto your front and pushed a small plug right to your ass. The mark branded on your back and Mingi’s spell made your body pliable to any form of pleasure he could give. It was all you felt. Pushing the silicone toy in time with his steady thrusts, you screamed into the pillow from the overpowering pleasure. Yeosang kept you pinned down as he charged forward. His small, lithe body made it easy for him to spread out and bounce on you, hips hitting your bare cheeks. Small noises and panting moans escaped him as his orgasm came. 

“Ooh, baby,” he huffed, digging the plug in further as he went faster, “Such a good little whore. Are you my whore? Say it. Say you're my whore.”

“I'm your whore, Yeo,” you cried, eyes closed as you gripped the sheets. “I am.”

“Put this toy here,” he stopped to put the vibrator underneath you. Its muffled buzzing joined your frustrated whimpers. “How's that?”

“Good! It's so good!”

“You want my load, doll?”

“Yes! Yes please, Yeo! Give me your load!”

“Then make me cum,” he grunted, smacking your ass, “Make me cum and take all of it in your filthy fucking mouth.”

Neither of you lasted much longer. You sobbed into the pillow as a second wave came over you, and your cum shot out onto the bed. 

“Open up,” Yeosang rolled you over and climbed up your body to your face. “Swallow it.”

You latched your mouth to the tip, sucking hard until the gooey substance painted your tongue, lips and cheeks. Gulping whatever flew in your mouth, you immediately started sucking to try getting more. Yeosang gripped the headboard tightly, rocking his hips back and forth as he cried and whined above you. Finally, he jerked out the last few droplets, moaning when they fell into your open mouth, then he finally collapsed beside you. 

“Whew, that was-Hey, hey, now, what's this?”

You'd straddled him suddenly, regardless of how much space you took up. Hands on either side of his head, you began slamming yourself up and down on his cock. It'll get hard again soon. It wasn't a problem. The hunger spiraled deep, having you rocking on Yeosang who only watched in awe. You knew you should stop, yet the curse kept its grip on you. 

“Was it that good, baby?” he huffed, hands on your hips. “It was so good that you want to keep going?”

“Yes! Your cock is so good! I love it so much!” 

“But, I’m still soft,” he said, looking at where you both met.

“Don-Don’t care,” you whined. “I nee-need-d- it.” 

It seeped itself into every part of your body. You nearly ached with the pain of need for it. You kept riding Yeosang as he grew hard within you, not stopping despite the exhaustion starting to come over you. Your body begged you to stop, yet you couldn’t. When you pulled him onto you, Yeosang held your thighs up and pounded you hard. Simply having him use you for his own pleasure fed the hunger building. The party raging outside, you’re sure somebody would eventually walk in and you hoped they did. The more, the merrier, you thought as Yeosang pressed the bullet toy to your hard nipple. This newest addition, thoughts of that pretty elf in bed with you, and Yeosang’s meaty length created another orgasm almost immediately. Yeosang filled you with his stringy semen, groaning in time with each push. 

Sweat plastering thin strands of black and green to his forehead, Yeosang fell back onto the bed. You saw the tiredness in his eyes, a small satisfied smile on his face. Your own body weighed with the same sluggishness, but you still reached for his cock. The ability to fight off the curse completely left you. You could only think about his cock deep in your throat, throbbing and spilling his savory cum down it. Holding down his tiny hips, you worked him right into your mouth. Sucking the mix of your own essence and his cum off his length, you slurped the tasty beads coming out of him. 

“Hey, calm down,” Yeosang said, “It’s sensitive.” He tried pushing you off, but you only started stroking him. 

“Please,” you whined, licking the red tip, “One more time.”

“We can, but just give me a minute,” he chuckled, managing to get out from under you. “A guy can only go so many times,” he went over to a liquor cart where he poured himself a drink, “Plus, I got a party to go back to. A host can’t leave his guests unattended.”

“Screw those guys,” you hissed, “They don’t even like you. They’re just hoping to get in good with you so you’ll sponsor their pathetic businesses.”

He laughed, “Oof, you got fire in you, babe. I like that.” He gulped some of the amber liquid, “Come on. I’ll pick out something for you in my closet. I think I got stuff from my last girl here somewhere.” 

He didn’t get it. Nobody did. The fire continued blazing even as he started rifling through the closet. You spotted the wand discarded on the bed, and immediately took it up. Instant relief buzzed through you once that vibrating head touched your overly sensitive cunt. Laying on your front, hips lifted off the bed, you grinded against the toy. Hongjoong wouldn’t stop. He’d go for as long as you wanted. You remembered the time you did it from dusk to dawn, only stopping for short periods. Something about your lover kept you going and it never hurt. Touching him, holding him close to your naked body as he sunk deep into you always brought you to orgasm. You wished it’d been him instead of Yeosang, instead of all of them. You yearned for his hands and lips. You wanted to hear his voice again, and see his face light up when he sees you. As you rutted against the toy, you longed for your boyfriend. 

“Sheesh,” Yeosang said as he came back into the room, watching you shudder from your pleasure, “You can really go, huh? I’m definitely keeping you now, doll.” He put a low-cut green top and a black skirt on the bed, then walked to the door. “My boys could use a nice reward for their loyalty….”

It was heaven. Yeosang returned with a group of his personal guards, who all hooted when they saw you dripping on the bed. Keeping you on your stomach, each guard took their turn and you came every time. Sweat gleamed on your skin, matting your hair and wetting the sheets by the time they’d run through you. When the seventh guard got done with you, you were twitching and fading on the bed.

“Thanks a lot, boss!”

“You’re a real one, sir!”

“That’s some hot snatch you got there. Lucky guy.”

Their words did not bring on the shame you’d become accustomed to feeling. You felt your body slump, and you tried hiding your face from a gloating Yeosang. He gave your bottom a few delicate pats, then ordered a servant to wipe you down. The servant, a dark-haired female fairy, said nothing as you laid there. She gingerly cleaned you off, being careful with the tender parts, then offered you food and water. You had no taste for it. You only ate because she expected it. You noticed the woman’s small breasts underneath her bikini top and pictured Yeosang fucking them. 

“You’ll get used to it,” she said, speaking for the first time. “It gets easier, I promise.” 

She must’ve thought you didn’t want it, but you didn’t know how to explain you did. In a way, at least. You pulled on the clothes Yeosang left you, but had no desire to go downstairs. People likely heard what happened by now, and will no doubt jest about it. You stayed sitting on the bed, the musty scent of sex hanging in the air around you, and thought of Hongjoong. He wouldn’t have let this happen unless you asked. He would've fought off each and every person who tried harming you. The shield who'd protected you was somewhere off in the world while you're here suffering from this wicked curse. 

You got up from the bed. Slowly, you went down back into the house. Nobody noticed you walking amongst them, despite being significantly taller than most of them. The smell of cigarettes, booze and sex started filtering through the house, and you needed to get outside. Yeosang had taken up his seat in the tent again, drinking from a glass with a girl holding a plate of food for him off to the side. You kept your distance as you waited on him to notice you. You hoped he never did. 

“There's my doll!” Yeosang cheered when he spotted you. “A real prize,” he told the merchants around him, “She took all of my guards like a real champ. I could barely get her off me,” he laughed with his men. “You should've heard her! Little slut could've kept going for hours, I bet.”

The leering smirks of his companions deepened your shame. Hongjoong would've pummeled the little gremlin for speaking about you that way. You wished you hadn't lost your necklace. It would have been such a comfort now. A guard pushed you towards Yeosang, and you sit next to him. You supposed you'd play along for the moment. Not meeting anyone's eyes, you only listened to Yeosang. 

“Say, how's your fleet faring these days?” One of the goblins asked Yeosang. “I heard the south's putting up some blockades in the ports.”

“We're still getting product through,” he answered. “I got a guy who's in good with the dockmaster, so I can still get stuff going through there. Yeah, supply lines are rough with the war starting up, but hey, everyone needs resources, right?”

“Whose side you taking?”

“Lord Kim, who else?” he asked. “The guy is a legend. That little southern king doesn't know who he's messing with. I'd back off if I were him.” 

The name peaked your interest. “Lord Kim? Like, ‘The Dark Lord’ Lord Kim?” 

“Yeah,” he said. “He's this demon lord who lives in the mountains. The guy rarely comes down.”

“And when he does, he's got this big ass dragon of his!” said one of the goblins. “The damn thing is always scaring my dogs and sheep. I can't get them to calm down.”

“I wish he'd park that thing outside the city,” said another. “It freaks me out.”

“He has a dragon?”

“Huge beast,” Yeosang nodded, sipping from his cup. “Aerion. It can spit this icy fire stuff that can turn anything instantly into a popsicle. In the war, my Pops told me he used to freeze whole armies and we'd blast through them like paper. Lord Kim isn't a guy to cross, baby, so when he comes I want you to be a good girl and bend over if he asks.”

“He's coming here?” You tried keeping the hope from your voice, covering it up with fear. You purposefully held onto him. “Really?”

“Don't get scared,” he rubbed your back. “Kim ain't like that.”

Dread mingled with the sliver of hope. Sadly, the only person who can pull you from this mess is another slave owner. You doubted Kim would be any gentler with you. Various escape plans came through your head, but none sounded successful. Those guards will fill you with bullets. Yeosang won't let you out of his sight or out of arm's reach. There are too many people to bolt through. Lord Kim might be your only way out of this after all. You regretted leaving the lycan camp now. He might have shown up there, and taken you from the pig pen. 

But no, hubris fgt in your way.  

“When is he coming?” you asked Yeosang, easing into his embrace and playing with a green strand of his hair. 

“Tomorrow or the day after, maybe. It doesn't take him long. He just turns up when he turns up,” he replied. He nuzzled your neck, giving a soft kiss, “I won't let him take you from me, no worries there, dollface. You're Yeo's girl now, and ain't nobody getting in between us.” He planted more kisses down your neck, “Dance for me. Show my buddies what a lucky guy I am to have someone like you.”

Deciding appeasing this goblin could get you closer to your goal, you stood up and began swaying your hips. Yeosang’s eyes stayed on you as you danced to the up-tempo music. The sensual vibe flowed through you, and you moved to the beat. Yeosang is another client, that's all. Make him feel special and content, and you might get your chance. 

You spent the night catering to Yeosang’s every whim. You poured him drinks. You filled his plates. You danced and stripped for him. You even helped him cheat at cards like you'd do with Vernon. Powerful men were the easiest to fool. If they feel like the self-proclaimed kings they are, you can get anything you want. Ace and Sprocket were more than happy when Yeosang showered them with money and favor. 

“You're perfect,” he mewled drunkenly, watching you gulp the rest of his wine. “I've never had a slave like you before. You're an angel created by the gods just for me, for sure.”

“Maybe they're the ones who brought us together?” you suggested, leaning down to play with his gold chain. Twirling it around your finger, you said, “I feel that way, don't you?” 

“Yeah,” he breathed, a fog of spirits coming from his lips. “Totally. It's not a coincidence that you show up on the night of my biggest party. The gods must've looked at me and went ‘let's give this guy a nice plaything’.” He gave a lopsided smile as he wrapped his arms around you, “Marry me.”

You laughed, “You're drunk.”

“Marry me, doll, and you'll be the Merchant Queen,” he insisted. “You'll be decked out in the finest clothes, the shiniest jewelry….you'll be driven around in the nicest rides, with a party yacht and a whole bunch of servants to serve you….You'd have me…” he put his hand up your skirt, squeezing your thigh. “In your bed at night, fucking you exactly how you deserve to be fucked. Be my wife, dollface. I promise I'll be super good to you.”

“I’d be a terrible wife,” you shook your head, laughing, “I don’t cook or clean.”

“We have people for that, babe!”

“I can’t guarantee faithfulness.”

“Me neither.”

“I don’t want children.”

“Good, they’re annoying and bring more trouble than they’re worth.” He lifted his cup for you to fill, which you generously poured wine into. Yeosang gulped, not minding what spilled from the corner of his mouth and wiped it with his sleeve. “You’re a slave, anyway. You gotta do what I say and I say that we’re getting married!” He nearly pushed you off as he stood up, raising his glass and addressing the room, “Hey everyone! I’m getting married!”

The partygoers all cheered, raising their own glasses and draining them with him. “Sels,” he called to a red-haired goblin standing by the bar, “Get the florist on the horn and tell him we’re gonna need five hundred pink and white roses! Call that dressmaker on Flint for a bride and groom fitting! And the catering company we used for Pop’s sixieth…”

Yeosang stumbled away, barking orders at the young woman who instantly grabbed a planner to write them down. You didn’t take the man seriously. Plenty of drunk men proposed to you before, and they remembered nothing the next morning. When the liquor wears off and his hangover starts, Yeosang will forget he ever had the thought. You took up your own glass, filling it to the top with wine, and then starting to gulp it. If you were going to get through this curse, you might as well pile yourself with as much booze as you could. 

****

“Morning, my beautiful bride…” 

You groaned at the sound of Yeosang’s soft voice. Nestled underneath layers of cotton and silk, you grasped for the last moments of your dream. It’d been Hongjoong again, laying inches away from you in your bed back home. You think it was your birthday…

“Precious angel…Time to get up now, we got places to be…”

He’d come as a surprise visit. The both of you spent the entire day together in your little room. He’d taught you how to slow dance, since you’d never done it before. To the music of your old record player, Hongjoong held you close as you both swayed in unison. You never felt so close to one person until that moment. It had been then that you knew you loved him. 

“Hey! Get up!”

White light blinded you from a nearby window. You groaned, the light burning your eyes and worsening your headache. Not yet. Not when you’d gotten a perfect image of Hongjoong’s smile in your mind. You held onto it as someone yanked the covers off you. 

“I’m up. I’m up,” you grumbled, rolling onto your side as your stomach started churning. 

Reality finally breaking through, you opened your eyes to see Yeosang standing near his dresser. His black and green hair damp from a shower, you saw him spraying deodorant as he spoke. 

“Good, get some food in you and hit the shower,” he ordered, putting down the bottle. “We got some places to be today.”

“Where?” 

You sat up and realized you were naked again. Judging by the vibrator and anal plug on the nightstand, Yeosang and you took another round of sex. Pushing hair from your face, you tried recalling exactly how many times, but couldn’t conjure up a number. 

“First, we’re going to the boutique in town,” he said, going into his closet. “Hattie is the best dressmaker in town. She really knows how to make a bride shine.”

“Bride?! You were serious about that?!”

“As serious as a heart attack, sweetheart,” he replied. “She’s gonna make you a queen to fit my king. Then, Sels called down that florist for us to look over floral arrangements for the big day. I decided it’s gonna be at the Oil Trap. It’s this big music hall near the ocean. The guy who owns it owes me some favors, so your hubby pulled a few strings and got us the whole place for this weekend.”

“Wait, wait, wait-”

“-Just imagine it, babe: you in your pretty dress, me in a new suit, dancing the night away on the seaside. Ha, it’s the wedding my Ma always hoped I’d have. I’m having Sharpy Shrimp’s cater the event. Hexel is gonna do our cake, and she’s got some great ideas for it. I’m thinking of a seven-tier with different flavors. It can sit on top of a small fountain of champagne or wine or something fancy like that. It can have some little lace or fluff or flowers around it too. Make it classy, you know?-”

“-Hey.” 

You wrapped the blanket around yourself and walked to his closet. Yeosang pulled on a loose silk shirt with sequined blue flames, fixing it around his shoulders as he continued. 

“-Then there’s the guest list. Anybody who is anybody is coming,” he buttoned up the shiny shirt, then grabbed a black blazer. “You’re going to like my family. They’re a riot, with or without booze. Ooh, and the booze is going to be top notch!”

“I never said ‘yes’ and I don’t want to get married,” you said firmly. 

He grabbed a gold chain from nearby, giving a snarky expression. “You say that like you got some kind of choice.”

“I’m not marrying you.”

“Yeah, you are. You’re a special girl, and I’m not letting you go so easy. Making you my wife guarantees nobody takes you from me,” he said. “Now, stop being difficult and get cleaned up. I want you downstairs in twenty, and that’s me being generous.” 

You glared at him. For the briefest moment, you thought of grabbing one of his fancy gold statues and slamming it over his head. Why did every man you meet seek some way to own you? Why did they treat you as if you were their property? Not even the men back home acted in such a way. Anger shook in your fists, causing them to ball into the blanket wrapped around your middle. You glimpsed at the golden horse set on top of a dresser table. 

“Honey pot, go get ready now.”

No, killing him won’t do any good. If Yeosang is dead, Lord Kim might decide not to come. “Would Lord Kim be coming?” you asked him. 

“Of course! It’s considered an insult not to invite him! Besides, he's stopping by sometime soon anyways.”

“Today?”

“Maybe? The guy never says when he’s coming. He just shows up.”

Sounded like someone you knew. Hongjoong said he liked being the element of surprise. It made your nights together more magical, he said. Now, you'd never have those again. 

Defeated, you walked away from the closet to a bathroom across the hall. The stink of alcohol and spunk clung to your skin and hair, and you could use a hot shower. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you couldn’t help taking a look at the mark on your back. It’d gone from thick, burning welts to thin lines in a matter of days. You reached to touch it, and realized how Yeosang might have missed it. Perhaps this is a blessing in disguise. If nobody could see it, then it’s not a problem. You turned on the shower in the corner, then stepped inside once the water turned hot. 

Rinsing off, you stepped out and grabbed a fluffy towel. A small shadow caught your attention and you looked to the window, almost hoping to see Hongjoong perched there. 

“Oh, hey bud,” you said, seeing the crow there instead. “Sorry, I don’t have any food right now. You picked the wrong place to meet me.” You started drying off, “I worried something happened to you after Mingi’s camp. I didn't see you at the lycan den. Then again, you probably stayed away so you didn’t become an appetizer,” you snorted a laugh. “Things have been kind of fast around here,” you finished quickly drying off and put the towel back around you, “Like, I just found out that demon guy is coming here. He's the one who can help me with this stupid curse; then I can go home.” 

You sat on the couch by the window, head resting on the window sill. Tin City stretched for miles across the small seaside coast. You saw large rigs sailing in and out of the far off port, different colored flags signaling their cargo. Hongjoong had told you all about the goblin merchant business. Cutthroat and sleazy, he said to trust every goblin with a barrel of salt. You would admit their technological and engineering advances beat any other place you've been. They were driving cars and riding motorcycles along the metal streets. You saw large robotic guards patrolling the streets, clunking along stiffly and repeating the same phrase “Serve and Protect.” If Lord Kim lifted your curse, you wouldn't mind hanging around the city. 

“This isn't such a terrible place,” you reasoned. “At least I'm not in chains. Maybe being a wife to a goblin prince won't be such a bad thing.” The crow squawked in protest and you giggled. “Okay, so there's no trees but I can make a nice hang out for you.” When he jumped around, flapping wings, you said, “I swear. I wouldn't leave my traveling buddy hanging.” You looked back out the window, “Maybe I should just play along until Lord Kim shows  It can't hurt. Yeosang only seems partially terrible. He's honestly no different than Vernon. They both have big heads and big egos. All I have to do is play into it, and let the rest happen, right?”

“Who are you talking to in there?” Yeosang knocked on the door, a bit peeved. 

“Nobody,” you called back. “See you around, bud.”

You left the bathroom to find Yeosang looking up at you with hands on his hips. He peered past you as if looking for a second person. When he didn't see anyone, he gave you a suspicious look before speaking. 

“Sels got you a nice outfit to wear out,” he said. “I ain't gonna have my girl walking around looking trashy.”

“That was nice of her.”

“She's my assistant. She has to do it.” His eyes landed on your chest again, and he started playing with the side of your towel. “Let me have a little lookie before we go, hm?”

“Aren't we going to be late?” you said, taking a deep breath as he slipped a hand inside. 

“Yeah, but so what? I'm the Merchant Prince. What are they gonna do?” He gently tugged the towel from your hands, and his jaw dropped when it fell. “Damn, and to think in a few days these babies will be all mine.” He yanked on your wrist to make you bend over him, and he gave one a soft lick. 

“A-a few days?” you stammered. You'd definitely be way gone if that was true.

“Well yeah,” he said, gently cupping one. “Weddings ain't finished in a day, baby,” the stud of his tongue piercing rolled over your nipple. “If you want a nice bash, you gotta do it right.” 

“But, I thought you'd want me as soon as possible.”

“Don't be so hasty, baby,” he insisted, “Your hubby isn't gonna stop fucking you. Let me prove it to you right now.”

He pulled you into the bedroom where you laid on the bed. The tightness and burning you'd learned to endure returned as he climbed up your body. 

“My pretty baby,” he cooed, kissing your neck. “You're gonna be all mine soon.”

“Aren't I already yours, Hubby?” 

This made Yeosang tremble in your arms. He groaned softly when you kissed him, tongue sliding into his mouth and hands in his hair. Hugging him was like hugging a large stuffed animal. 

“You bought me, remember?” you asked in one of his large ears. “Two thousand gold, if I remember correctly.”

“Yeah,” he said, groping both your breasts as he grinded into you. “And this is worth every cent. Open up for me. I want to taste you again.”

“Should we? You've seen how horny I get.”

“We got the whole day, baby,” he said. “I want you now.” He moved down your body to your hips, pecking along your pelvis to your mound. “I've never had a girl who can go as long as you.”

“You just get me that hot,” you sighed. “You and those fun toys.”

His chuckle was muffled by the lips in his mouth. You whimpered, feeling the soft suckles he did to each side, followed by a long lick. The side of his tongue barely grazed your clit, which began to throb from the sensual touches. You knew you'd be thrown onto another uncontrollable whirl of desire if he kept going. The effort it took to suppress it became harder and harder to maintain. Yeosang’s pierced tongue worked its magic, swirling and flicking until you were shuddering in his arms. 

“That’s it, baby,” he moaned, shaking his head with your clit in his mouth. “Lay back and enjoy my tongue for a bit. If you marry me, dollface, you get me whenever you want.”

“Yes…” you said through a restrained moan. “Yes, I'd love that.”

“Get the dildo out,” he said, “That big green one you couldn't get enough of last night.”

You didn't hesitate to reach into the nightstand. As long as Seonghwa had been, you felt excited simply holding it. Locking eyes with Yeosang, you gingerly slid the tip in your mouth. You sucked the smooth toy slowly, working it into your mouth inch by inch. He kept sucking, grinding into the mattress as his cock grew harder. Soon, you handed the wet toy to him, and he pushed the very tip inside. He brushed his thumb over your drenched clitoris while he continued sliding it. Once full of it, you knew you were a goner. 

The toy finally did its best feature: it whirled and vibrated. Yeosang kept nestled inside with a strip of tape from a bed drawer, only driving you further insane. When he scooted up to your chest, cock springing out of his pants, you opened your mouth willingly. Not big or heavy, you had no trouble letting the little goblin thrust in and out of your mouth. He held onto the headboard, almost bouncing on your face. His low grunts matched your stifled moans. You hooked your arms around his small thighs, forcing him into your throat as you hummed around it. You'd done this last night and you'd both nearly came from it. 

“I love this pretty mouth,” he groaned, pulling out to tap it over your lips and tongue. 

“And it's yours.”

“And it's mine.”

It only took a few more pushes before you came. Body vibrating, muscles clenching from the pleasure, you rode it out to the end. Right then, Yeosang’s dick pulsed and went further into your mouth as his cum burst like a jelly candy. You eagerly swallowed the globs falling into your throat, groaning for more. 

“Hubby,” you whined when he pulled away, “Let's go just one more time, please? You didn't fuck me.”

“We can do that later on. Put a lid on this for now, and get dressed.”

He fixed himself up, but you couldn't stop. Forcing yourself to stand, you found the outfit Sels got for you. Lavender tank top and skin tight leather skirt with a gold chain belt, you figured most of your outfits will consist of pieces like this. You didn't care. It only gave Yeosang more access to your holes. You found the slightest brush on it ignited the arousal you didn't get to douse out. The urge to quickly use one of his toys before going out, but you knew to delay him will agitate him. Vernon was the same way. 

“You look smoking hot, babe,” Yeosang approved of your outfit. “Every guy is gonna be drooling over you.”

“You just gave them another reason to envy you, Boss,” said Sels. 

“Ha, true.”

He led you to a small, red car parked outside the door. A goblin opened your side, and you climbed in. A bit cramped in leg room, you supposed it wasn't so bad. 

You spent the entire day out with Yeosang, and your mark burned most of the time.

In the boutique, wearing a mermaid style dress made of sheer and lace fabric, you tempted him into a slow ride in the dressing room. The feeling of his cock rocking deep inside your cunt had you trembling in minutes. 

At the florist shop, he fingered you subtly as he talked about flower arrangements with the shopkeeper. You struggled to stay still. His fingers worked your pussy way too well. You both decided on white and pink roses tied with strings of pearls and diamonds. 

You gave him another blow job outside the bakery in the car. He held onto the door and back of the seats tightly as you firmly sucked him. Your hand and mouth both sliding over his dick, you shivering when he finished. “Your cum tastes better than any dumb cake,” you told him as you wiped your mouth. The cake was exactly how Yeosang wanted: a seven tier with a tiny green fountain at the base with every tier a different flavor. 

He took you from behind at the catering office. You'd teased him the entire way there, showing off the breasts he liked so much and putting his hand on one. His cock might not reach fully to your g spot, but he made up for that with his fingers on your clit. You walked into the catering place with his cum smearing your thighs. A reasonable spread of exotic and local dishes was agreed upon, with each meal better than the last. 

“You are something else, you know that?” He laughed when you returned to the mansion. “I love it though.”

He kissed you, and you returned it deeply. “I can't help it,” you said between kisses, “You make me all hot and bothered. I can't wait to have it all the time.”

“I won't get any work done with you around, will I?”

“Nope.”

You hoped to see an unfamiliar figure in the mansion when you came back. Lord Kim might have arrived while you were away. Unfortunately, there were no visitors waiting, only Sels with her daily profit reports. You decided to put on one of the swimsuits Yeosang bought you, and take a dip in the pool. If you're going to wait on him, you might as well do it in style. 

****

It was a nightmare. Two days passed since you arrived in Tin City, and you felt yourself slipping. You'd wake up in places you didn't remember going, naked and aching for more. Whenever Yeosang and you slept together, you craved more and more. It became an itch that you couldn't scratch. The goblin ended up having to restrain you when he wasn't home. Everything and everyone looked good. From Sels in her tight blouses and small shorts to the horse statue you grinded on regularly, you found yourself caving. The need to escape no longer crossed your mind. You only wanted stimulation, any kind you could get. 

“Yes, yes, yes! Fuck me, Topaz. Fuck me as hard as you can!” 

You whined as you bent over a lounge chair by the pool. Behind you, huffing and puffing was one of Yeosang’s guards. You'd been playing with yourself when he passed by, and didn't pass up the chance at his boss's girl's pussy. The shame you might have felt did not matter. You no longer felt it. His cock pulsating within you drove you wild, and you started pushing back into him. After he finished, you took on another passing guard who didn't complain when you pulled his dick out for him. 

“Boss is a lucky fella,” he cackled, holding your head with both hands as he thrusted, “I'd kill to have a horny bitch like you on my arm.”

It was never enough. When you finished going through three more guards, your body finally collapsed onto the chair. Sticky and sweaty, you laid there limply as the men walked away from you. You could go even longer than before. The hunger didn't stop after three or four times anymore. The curse's progression occasionally concerned you in those moments between flare ups, but not enough to urge an escape. On your back, you reached out for a fruit platter next to you though you had no desire for food. The strawberry burst in your mouth, but you didn't enjoy it. You thought about the salty taste still on your tongue. Disgusted with yourself, you still scooped what leaked out of you and put it to your lips. 

By your fourth day in Tin City, the haze came. Forgetfulness was one of the main symptoms, and you felt it most after sex. Gasping for air after another round with Yeosang and two girls named Peggy and Twix, you forgot how you'd gotten there. The memory remained shrouded in a thick fog as Peggy poured drinks. You'd been in the private lounge, discussing something. What? The wedding maybe? That's all Yeosang talked about since the official announcement. You closed your eyes to try picturing the scene, but only made out vague details. Visions of you, Peggy and Twix working on an overstimulated Yeosang came in blurs. Hands caressing bodies, limbs becoming so entangled you couldn't tell who was who, and moans filling the bedroom came through. 

“Here, sugar,” Peggy, purple-haired and green, handed you a small goblet. “It's Yeo’s finest stuff.”

You drained the glass, but felt sick by the force it took. The curse would take over, but honestly, who cared anymore? 

Sels tried going over the guest seating with you the following day. She drew up a diorama of the Oil Trap's banquet hall with little circles and squares for the tables. You tried focusing on names and spaces, listening to her stories about the different relationships. But, you only thought about how she'd look with a dildo in her cunt. As she explained why Crizzo and Tizzy don't get along anymore, you slipped your hand onto her lap. 

“Hey, little lady, don't you get any ideas,” she giggled playfully, pushing your hand away. “I ain't like the fellas around here. I won't just go down on you because you want me to.”

“Then tell me what I have to do to get in those panties, Sels.”

She gasped at your vulgarity, a pink tinge on her cheeks. “YN, Yeo won't like it.”

“So?”

“He's my boss. You're his fiance. It ain't right.”

She didn't get it. You longed to taste her lips, and feel her tightness around your fingers. You needed someone, anyone. 

 "YN…" she gazed over your  glossy eyes, "Do you remember anything about this morning?"

 You furrowed your brow, forcing yourself to conjure up some small detail. "I remember waking up next to Yeo and someone."

 "Who?"

 "I don't know. Does it matter? It feels good. Don't you want to feel good, Sels?" The burning started coming right as Yeosang appeared. 

“Didn't I fuck you enough this morning, chicklet?” He asked in disbelief, huffing as he set down two table cloth samples. 

“You did,” you said, turning to him. “But, Sels is pretty too. You should do us both….right now….on the table….please, Hubby?” 

You started pulling at his shirt before he stopped you. “Come on now, we have work to do. This wedding ain't gonna plan itself.”

“Yeo-Yeo,” you pouted, giving him a soft kiss, “I'm-”

“-I know you are,” he cut you off. “We can do it later, if you're so damn horny, but for right now we have a seating chart to make.”

You resented the pair the rest of the time, only nodding when they addressed you. You thought Yeosang liked you being insatiable. He'd been happy about it when you met. All of a sudden you're “too horny”? What did that even mean? When they agreed on the seating arrangements, you got up from the table and went to your bedroom. There, you fiddled with the vibrator for hours, fucking yourself dumb and sensitive with the whirling, buzzing toy. Yeosang came in after the sixth orgasm, slightly aroused but overall upset at the mess on his sheets. 

“We just changed these,” he grumbled. You didn't stop going despite your aching hands and wrists. When he pulled the toy away, you flexed them to stretch the taut muscles and bones. “You're something else, girl,” he said irritably. “Really something.”

The sixth day was even worse. You suddenly didn't know what you were doing. Your body only enjoyed the pleasure, your mind forced into submission by your desires. The boutique owner, altering your dress one more time, yelped in surprise when you took his cock in your hand and stroked him. You'd gone far enough to seduce the troll escorting you home. In the front seat of Yeosang’s car, you rode the sweaty, bulging grunt like a horse. The spaces in between were becoming shorter and fewer. The sex lasted longer. The pool floats weren't safe either, being grinded on in the middle of the pool. You couldn't stop it. It became all you thought about, all you needed. 

“Babe, you should eat something,” Yeosang said that night, actually worried for you. 

“I'd love to be eating you,” you crooned, reaching for his belt buckle. 

“No, none of that. Eat.”

Sels had to feed you herself as ordered by Yeosang. The food tasted bland and dry, no matter the dish. You couldn't find the interest in eating anymore. 

“You really think you should marry this girl, Yeo?” A friend asked him the night before the wedding. 

Yeosang had tied you to a chair during dinner rehearsals. Eight days. This torture had been going on for eight days. You squirmed in place, finding friction and openly moaning. Drool fell from your lips when someone passed a banana split across the table. The whipped cream on the long banana gave you images of something better covered in cream. The brisket sandwiches, baskets of fries, mozzarella sticks, pasta bowls, barbecue chicken, creamy mashed potatoes, corn on the cob and other foods did not entice you in the slightest. The wine, spirits and beer being served were invisible to you. You only sought the delicious taste and feeling of something between your legs.

“We already paid for everything,” Yeosang said. his voice miles away even though he sat beside you. “I don't know what the hell is wrong with her.”

“I'd cut my losses and sell her off,” he replied. 

“Lord Kim might be able to salvage the situation, sir,” Sels said. “He is a demon. He could help you.”

“Maybe…if the bastard would show up already…”

You started bouncing on air, wanting so badly to have something in you. The name did nothing for you now. You didn't care. Nothing mattered anymore. With Sels’s help, you managed back to your room where you nearly dragged her into bed with you. She only escaped because Yeosang pulled her away in time. This resorted to you humping a pillow, tongue out and waiting for Yeosang’s cock. 

“What he fuck is going on with you, babe? I get being horny but…”

“Shut up and get those pants off, goblin boy.”

“Nah, I'm good.”

“Please!” you said, tears in your eyes. “I'm ready for you. You can just go inside.”

“No, I'm alright. Look, I got this stuff right here that'll help you sleep. You haven't slept in two days, babydoll, and we got a wedding tomorrow.”

You whined at the slight sting in your arm. For once, you finally felt peace. 

***

“I don't have a choice, Sels. She's out of control. I can't keep drugging her. I mean, how's that gonna look? Prince Yeo can't get his bitch out of her heat, so she goes looking elsewhere. I already tell people I let her do it for now, but what about when we're married?” 

“I said you should wait until Lord Kim arrives. He might have a solution. His bird came with-"

“-Nah, nah, I can't have her around him. She'll scare him off and then I lose the biggest deal we've gotten since my Pop was in charge. She's gonna have to go.”

“Where?”

“I got some friends from the canyon coming by for trade talks. I'll throw her in with the trade, and see if their Chieftain will take her.”

 "But, boss, I got-"

 "-Can't believe this whole thing has gone down the drain."

****

Standing up, you felt the salty sea breeze hitting your hot skin. It cooled down the constant flames burning through you for mere moments. Two guards had chained your wrists together again, and one led you down the stairs and out of the house. It took you several minutes to realize you had been taken out of the bedroom. 

“Where are we going?” you asked one of them. “To the Oil Trap?”

“Nah, not the Oil Trap, sweetface,” the guard tugging your chains said. “Yeosang called off your wedding. You're a product now.”

“Huh?”

Neither of them elaborated. They dragged you to a cage hooked up to a wagon. Yeosang stood next to it, signing a clipboard and passing it to Sels. He gave you a quick glance, nodding his approval. 

"Yeah, this will do," he said, sounding dejected. "I can't believe I'm out two grand. I paid two grand for a crazy snatch. I feel robbed."

"You want us to find the loser who sold her to you, boss?" One of the guards asked as he forced you into the cage. 

"Yeah. Find those two and bring them to me. They're gonna pay for cheating me," he glared. He hopped into the cage with you, and your mark tingled. He sat on the opposite side of the small cage, examining you from afar. "We were supposed to get married today. What am I gonna tell everyone? They all came here dressed to the nines, hoping to get loaded, and now I gotta tell them my fiance ran out on me. Do you know how that's gonna make me look, doll? I got a rep around here. I can't have a crazy bitch ruining that for me."

Your limbs became cinder blocks that were a struggle to carry, and you found it hard to remain upright for more than a few minutes at a time. Being thrown into the cage was a blessing, since now you could rest. You tried remembering how they got you downstairs. You didn't remember being woken up or anyone calling your name. You simply woke up already standing, cuffed and shackled. Last night? You couldn't recall that either. Peggy and Twix. Was that last night or the night before? And Topaz? How long ago was it since that happened? The high of sex wore off from the drug Yeosang gave you, but now the rocking cage brought it back. 

"Bright side, Kim ain't shown up yet, so he won't see you hanging around," he continued. "Two grand, plus the forty I spent on this wedding. You better be glad I got connections at the bank, otherwise you'd be making that money back another way."

The slight vibrations awoke the mark on your back once more. Moving your legs apart, you started rubbing in slow circles. The pliable folds became slick in minutes, and your sliding fingers over your clit drove you wild. 

"The flowers, the DJ, the catering, the hall, the booze, the drugs, the photographer, cinematographer, the honeymoon boat, the limo, the guest favors, security...All wasted." He turned to you, "Maybe we can salvage the situation by having it anyways. Everyone loves a good party. I can just tell people it's a theme party. Everybody loves a-Are you kidding me? Even here?"

 "I can't help it," you whined, spreading the lips to show him your swollen clit. "It feels good."

 Yeosang gulped thickly, eyes falling to your hand. He licked his lips at the small bud being rubbed with a single finger. "Oh yeah?"

 You nodded. "Come play with me," you slunk lower in the corner, "One more time?"

"Well, it does look good all wet like that...I suppose… " he began crawling towards you. "Give me a little taste, babe."

Nestled in front of you, Yeosang buried his face right to your pussy. Tongue lashing at your clit, you mewled at every swipe. You slipped a hand into his hair to keep him close, your body burning from the building tension. You imagined him doing this forever, taking you however he wanted and spilling his cum all over you. Visions of Yeosang using his hands, mouth, toys and cock brought you right to the edge. Your hands held onto the crossing bars of your cage to keep you grounded as he sucked the leaking juices. Right when you started to tremble, Yeosang pulled away. 

"You're cumming on my dick this time," he groaned, pulling out his cock. "Keep rubbing that clit for me."

You did as he said while he shoved his cock into you. Pure bliss. It was better than any drink or drug he could give you. Even when your orgasm hit you, egged on by your rubbing and his pounding, Yeosang didn't stop. People the car passed noticed you both whenever you came to a light, and stopped to stare. You welcomed it. You held one of your legs up so a crowd saw him stretching you apart. When he pulled you onto him, his cock ramming up into you, they cheered before the car moved on. 

 “Hey, Yeo!" A goblin called at another light, "Where can I find her? She looks good."

"She can really ride," his friend pointed out. "I'll pay a hundred for the whole thing."

"Too bad I made the deal prematurely," he said. "Maybe you could have made back all that money for me. You would have liked it anyway. You could have been a little money maker."

"Keep me, " you whined, whirling your hips around, "And you can make plenty off me."

 If it meant you got more cum, you didn't care. 

"Sorry, dollface. I promised to throw you in as part of a deal. I can't go back on my word. Now, make your hubby cum one more time." 

Several short thrusts later, Yeosang was tightly gripping your hips and harshly rutting into you. The spurts of cum filling you did not feel like enough. As he came down, you kept grinding to get him hard again. 

“We're almost there,” he said, pushing you off him. “You can get fucked by your new master and his entire tribe if you want.”

“But I want you,” you pulled him close and reached for his groin before he could zip it back up. 

“No means no, doll.”

“Come on, don't be like that. You know you want more, so give it to me.”

Yeosang sighed irritably, then withdrew a syringe from his pocket. In a quick pinch to your neck, you slowly felt yourself falling down a big hole. It swallowed you at once and the work turned dark. 

****

“What's wrong with her, Kang?”

“What? What do you mean? There ain't nothing wrong with her.”

“Then why is she drugged and chained in a cage?”

“She ain't drugged. She's just sleeping, is all, and the chains and cage are for transport convenience.”

“This is how you would transport your bride?”

“Bride? This one? Pfft, no way. I'm not marrying her.”

“Then who are you marrying?”

“Um, uh, well….Sels! My assistant, Sels. She and I have been sweethearts for years, and I thought it was time to pop the question, you know? I found this one in the auction house, and she's been more trouble than she's worth. I thought a big Orc chief like yourself could straighten her out.”

“....Is this the one, Warchief?” a voice said in a hushed whisper above you. 

“I believe so. She's exactly how he described, brand and all,” another voice replied. “You're making her part of our deal?’

“Yes! Think of it like the cherry on top of a nice chocolate cake!” 

“Then it's settled, Kang. Don't make me regret this.”

“You won't, pal….Here, let me throw in these sedatives for free. She can get kind of rowdy, and these seem to work on her for a while.”

****

A/N: hey, a deal that might just turn out well for YN. Yes, the goblins are a total rip off of World of Warcraft goblins lmao I love their version of them and Yeosang as a scheming little horny goblin prince sounded hot. We're getting closer and closer to the end, hope y'all stick around for it <3

[actuallybean]

Holy Virgin* | Part Two

You've shared everything with Sam but one thing—your faith. It’s never been a problem… until Heaven turns its gaze on you, and suddenly, devotion takes on a darker meaning. *Contains sexual material, pregnancy, thoughts of suicide/attempted suicide, virginity and has some religious themes: Minors DNI Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader, Dean Winchester x Reader (Platonic), Castiel x Reader (Platonic) Tag list: @mostlymarvelgirl @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing Part Three Supernatural Masterlist | Main Masterlist

The Bunker felt warmer on Sundays.

Maybe it was the smell of eggs sizzling in Dean’s old cast-iron pan, the one he swore made them crispier, greasier, “more American.” Maybe it was the way Sam moved slower in the mornings, long limbs draped lazily over the arms of chairs, like his body finally trusted that—for one sacred morning—no one needed saving. Or maybe it was just the way sunlight slipped through the narrow slats of the kitchen window, catching on motes of dust like falling grace. Warm gold on steel and stone. A gentle defiance against how cold the world usually was.

You sat curled at the round table, barefoot, one of Sam’s flannels swallowing you whole, the hem brushing your thighs. You were flipping through a battered old cookbook you found wedged behind some takeout menus in the Bunker’s pantry. The pages smelled like bacon grease and faint mildew, with handwritten notes in the margins—“add more cayenne” or “Dean liked this one”—and cracked eggshells preserved in the spine from some long-ago spill.

“You know,” Dean said, cracking an egg with theatrical precision, “if you two are gonna keep playing house like this, we’re gonna have to get you matching aprons.”

You didn’t even glance up. “Yours would say ‘Kiss the Hunter.’ With a little heart stitched in blood.”

Sam snorted into his coffee.

Dean raised a brow. “Mine would say ‘World’s Greatest Brother,’ thank you very much.”

“You’re just mad she doesn’t cook for you,” Sam said without looking up, nursing his mug like it was the last good thing left in the world.

“She’s never offered,” Dean shot back.

“She’s not your girlfriend.”

Dean turned dramatically, wiping his hands on a dish towel and leaning his hip against the counter. “Not yet.”

You blinked. Sam’s brow twitched.

Dean smirked, eyes glinting. “I’m just saying, man—she already wears your clothes, hogs your coffee, steals your books. How far off are we, really, from a full-on Winchester wedding? You want me to start looking for rings? Or maybe I can officiate it myself—‘Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in this haunted-ass bunker—’”

“Dean,” Sam cut in, but there was no heat behind it.

Dean held up his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, hey, I’m just teasing. Mostly. But let’s not pretend this isn’t the closest thing to domestic bliss any of us are ever gonna get.”

You finally looked up, lips twitching into a reluctant smile. “You really know how to make a girl feel romantic.”

Dean grinned and pointed his spatula at you. “Don’t I?”

Then, more quietly, more honestly, he added, “I mean it, though. You’re family. You know that, right?”

The humor softened in the space between you, fading like steam off a skillet. The kind of quiet that holds weight.

Your gaze met his, gentler now. “I know.”

Dean’s eyes flicked to Sam and back. “It’s just… this feels good. Normal. And God knows we don’t get a lot of that. So, yeah. I wouldn’t mind a sister-in-law who prays before eating and makes Sam stop brooding.”

“I do not brood,” Sam muttered, deadpan.

Dean ignored him. “Plus, you’re like… the only one who can get him to watch something other than documentaries and sad indie dramas.”

“He cried during Little Women,” you said with a teasing glance toward Sam.

“I did not,” Sam protested, cheeks faintly flushed. “That scene with Beth was—objectively emotional.”

You leaned your head on his shoulder, smiling into the fabric of his shirt. “Sure, baby. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Dean cackled from the stove.

You stayed like that for a beat longer, your hand sneaking across the table under the clutter of old napkins and Dean’s half-finished crossword puzzle. Sam’s fingers found yours easily, warm and callused, lacing with familiar confidence.

“You two make me sick,” Dean announced, scooping eggs onto plates. “If I’d known letting her live here would result in public displays of affection, I would’ve stuck to solo missions.”

“Yeah, but then who would’ve kept you from eating expired Hot Pockets and drinking gas station whiskey on an empty stomach?” you shot back.

Dean raised his hands. “Point taken. Now eat this before I decide to throw it at you out of sheer bitterness.”

He set down a plate in front of you with a flourish. Eggs, toast, bacon, and what looked like an attempt at hash browns—crispy on one side, still raw on the other.

You made sure the boys dug in first.

Dean was halfway through cutting his toast when you folded your hands in your lap, lowered your head, and closed your eyes.

“Bless us, O Lord, and these Thy gifts which we are about to receive from Thy bounty…” you murmured, the prayer so familiar it came like breathing. You always prayed before eating—especially here. Especially with them.

Dean noticed this time. You could feel his eyes on you. Not mocking. Not confused. Just… quietly watching.

When you lifted your head again, Dean hadn’t touched his fork. He was still staring, brow furrowed like he was trying to figure out a puzzle he hadn’t realized he cared about until now.

“What do you feel when you pray?” he asked suddenly, cutting through the comfortable clatter of breakfast.

You blinked, surprised. “Peace,” you said softly, leaning back in your chair. “Mostly peace. Or hope. Sometimes fear. But never alone.”

Dean tilted his head, chewing on the edge of your words. “Fear?” he echoed, voice lower now.

You nodded. “Not of God. Of everything else. Of what’s out there. Of what we fight. There are days where it feels like the world is held together with duct tape and a wish. But when I pray… it feels like it doesn’t all fall on me. Like someone else is carrying it, too. Someone stronger. Someone good.”

Sam’s thumb moved against your hand again, slower this time.

Dean stared at you for a long moment. Then he looked down at his plate. Picked up his fork. “I get that,” he said quietly. “I really do.”

You watched him take a bite and chew slowly, eyes distant. For all his swagger and sarcasm, there were oceans under Dean Winchester’s surface. You’d known that for years. But moments like this? When he let the water show? They were rare. And precious.

Sam turned to you, his voice a whisper meant only for your ears. “He doesn’t say things like that to just anyone.”

You smiled, lifting his hand to your lips and pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles. “Neither do I.”

The three of you ate in a peaceful silence after that. The kind that didn’t need filling. The kind that only came with real love.

✦

The day passed slow. Lazy. Beautiful in the way only rare peace can be.

The Bunker held warmth in its bones that Sunday, humming softly beneath your bare feet as you padded down the hall, drawn by the scent of coffee and the quiet rustle of pages turning. Hours slipped by like melted honey, and none of you rushed them. Sam had pulled you into the couch sometime after breakfast, and neither of you had moved much since. One of his thick theology books lay open across his lap while you leaned against him, your legs tangled lazily with his, your head resting comfortably against the curve of his shoulder. He smelled faintly of cedarwood and paper, and every so often, he’d reach over to tuck a stray strand of your hair behind your ear.

Dean sat at the war room table, field-stripping one of his favorite guns, the parts arranged in perfect little rows like silver bones. He had a Western playing on low volume, something dusty and dramatic from the seventies that featured more scowls than dialogue. Every time a horse neighed or a revolver clicked, Dean mimicked the sound under his breath, even as his hands moved with methodical grace over oiled metal. You caught him glancing over a few times—at you, at Sam—and though he said nothing, the softness in his expression was louder than words.

Eventually, when the book had grown heavy in Sam’s lap and the Western ended with a poorly executed duel, the three of you agreed on a better option.

“The Princess Bride,” Dean suggested, casual.

You raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

He shrugged. “What? It’s got fencing. Fighting. Revenge. True love. All the essentials.”

Sam grinned. “He’s not wrong.”

And so it played.

You curled tighter against Sam, nestled beneath one of the patchwork quilts Dean had claimed from an old case in Wyoming. Your cheek pressed to Sam’s chest, and you could hear the steady beat of his heart beneath the fabric of his henley, feel the way it slowed in rhythm with his breath as the familiar scenes unfolded. The glow of the television bathed the room in flickering light—Inigo Montoya’s blade flashing silver, Westley’s voice thick with devotion.

“As you wish…”

You smiled into Sam’s shirt, lips barely moving.

Safe. Whole. Loved.

The moment felt suspended in amber—timeless, untouchable.

Until the flicker.

It was small, at first. A brief hiccup in the screen, like the film strip had caught. Then another. Then the lights.

They didn’t go out. Not completely. But they dimmed all at once, shadows lengthening in the corners of the room, the overheads lowering to a deep gold like candlelight. You sat up slowly, eyes scanning the space. Sam’s arm came instinctively around your waist. Dean rose before the sound even finished.

The wings.

That unmistakable rush of air that was neither wind nor sound—but both. Felt more than heard. A hush fell so suddenly over the Bunker that even the old pipes seemed to still.

And then—he was there.

Castiel.

He stood near the archway of the room, his coat rumpled as always, blue tie slightly askew. But his expression was different. Tight. Troubled. His eyes, usually the color of stormy sky, were darker now—clouded with something deeper than worry.

Flanking him were two angels you had never seen before.

They were... beautiful. But not in any way you could call comforting. Their presence carried a weight that made your bones ache, as though gravity itself bowed around them. The one to Castiel’s left had silver hair that shone like polished steel, his face angular, sharp, ageless. The other was bald, his skin smooth and pale as moonlight, but his eyes—his eyes were suns. Too bright. Too much. You looked away instinctively, heart kicking up in your chest.

You tried to stand. Sam rose beside you, his hand lingering on your back.

Castiel’s gaze found you immediately. “We need to speak with you.”

His voice was calm. Low. But there was no mistaking the urgency.

Dean narrowed his eyes, stepping forward. “Cas, what the hell’s going on?”

The silver-haired angel took a single step into the room, and though he moved with grace, the air around him seemed to chill. “We have a message.”

Dean’s hand drifted toward his waistband.

“It’s not a threat,” Castiel said quickly, holding up a hand. “But it is… from God.”

Your breath hitched so hard it felt like something fractured inside your lungs.

You stared at him, then at the others. “Me?”

The bald one nodded once. “You have been chosen.”

The words were like cold water dumped over your spine.

“I—I don’t understand.”

“We don’t either,” Castiel admitted. “The message was delivered by the new Scribe of Heaven. It bore the highest seal. And it spoke your name.”

You shook your head. “There’s a mistake. I’m no one.”

“You are known,” said the silver-haired angel. “You are named. You are prepared.”

Sam stepped in front of you without hesitation, towering between you and them. “What does that mean?”

The silver-haired angel extended a hand, palm upward. “If she allows, we will show her.”

Dean moved now, standing to Sam’s right, voice cold. “She’s not doing anything unless she agrees. And if this is some kind of possession—”

“It isn’t,” Castiel said firmly, cutting across the tension. “No control. No invasion. It’s… more like revelation. A divine vision.”

You stared at Castiel. “Will it hurt?”

“No,” he said. Then softer, “But it will change everything.”

Your pulse thudded in your ears.

You turned to Sam.

He looked at you like you were a world he didn’t want to lose. His eyes locked on yours, hands gently finding your arms. He didn’t say no. He wouldn’t hold you back. But his jaw was tight, and he looked like he was already grieving.

Then, finally, he nodded.

You turned back to the angels. Your voice was barely above a whisper. “Okay.”

The bald angel moved forward. Slowly. Carefully. He lifted his hand and pressed two fingers to your forehead.

And the world disappeared.

No sound. No breath. No body.

Only white.

Endless, echoing white—so bright it was neither color nor light, just... presence. A silence that pulsed. A stillness so pure it hurt.

And then—

A voice.

Not in your ears. In you. Through you.

It wasn’t loud. It didn’t boom. But it was. Vast. Timeless. Made of wind and thunder and lullabies and galaxies folding in on themselves.

My daughter. You have been chosen. You will carry My son. As Mary once did, so shall you. This is My will.

Your soul quaked.

You wanted to scream. Wanted to cry out that you were not worthy, not ready, not enough.

But there was no mouth. No voice. No flesh. Only your essence—and it bent beneath the weight of His decree.

You didn’t understand.

You didn’t want this.

You hadn’t chosen this.

And then—

The Bunker.

The world rushed back all at once, color and sound crashing into your senses.

You were falling.

Arms caught you. Strong. Familiar. Sam.

Your body trembled violently, your knees unable to bear your weight. Dean grabbed your legs, lowering you gently to the floor, while Castiel caught the back of your head with both hands, keeping you steady.

You were shaking so hard you could barely breathe.

Sam’s voice was frantic. Desperate.

“Hey—hey, look at me. It’s okay. I’ve got you. I’ve got you. Talk to me.”

You clung to him like a lifeline, fists curled in the fabric of his shirt, nails digging into his chest.

When your voice finally came, it cracked in half.

“Sam…” Your lip trembled. Your eyes burned. “I didn’t choose this…”

He pulled you closer, cradling you against his chest like something fragile. Like something sacred.

And in the silence that followed, no one spoke.

Because what could they say?

God had spoken.

And everything was about to change.

[ellieslittleburrow]

Summary : John Winchester, your father, is protective of you

Warnings : swearing and cute John

A/N : should we write more John Winchester?

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John Winchester, a man of many flaws. Sammy can attest to that, he suffered the most from John's decisions. Dean would stand against that, he's been John's boy since the day he was born. Dad this, dad that; That doesn't mean it isn't complicated, though.

You on the other hand.....umm....not suuuure where you stand really, where do you stand?

Everything felt different for you with John. Everything. His love for you was established since the beginning. He got a spark in his eyes whenever you were around that neither of his two boys ever got the chance to see, even Dean.

You were his baby girl.

There were the times where he stood up for you. The bullies??? Never stood a chance. There was that one time in particular when you got h-

"Hey! What did i tell you about slamming doors?" A scolding growl sounded, one that would usually....send shivers down your spine. This time it left you unbothered, or maybe fueled your anger even more.

In an attempt to not cry in front of the Great Winchester, you hurried to the bed assigned to you and threw yourself into a sleeping position, your back facing him.

"HEY" his growl grew angrier and you just hugged yourself. You didn't need him exploding your eardrums on top of everything else that had happened that day. His steps closed in on you and soon enough, your waist was gently being pulled back- you were facing him.

As his eyes navigated around your face, his features simultaniously softened. The creases shaped by the frown on your eyebrows, the sucked in lower lip, the damp eyelashes, all signs of-

"You were crying?" A stupid question that John needed no answer to. He somehow knew why, too. But he asked anyway. "Was it the kids at school?"

With that-you force yourself back on your side. "I told you not to force me into a new school."

Your mumble is muffled but John already knew what you were going to say-you've had this conversation many a times before.

"Come on" Your father tapped your butt before heading towards the door. And your curiosity itched your brain and you turned around, sitting up.

"Where are you going?" You asked and he glanced at you over his own shoulder, a mischivious smile embellishing his face.

"Just get your ass up."

Over in the car, John turned to you. "Do you know where this kid lives?"

You took your damn time to respond, both of you will get into trouble buuuuuuut.... A smirk ghosted your lips. "Yeaaaah?"

"Good, that saves us a lot of time."

You nervously chuckled. "A lot of time for what, dad?" The Impala roared as silence followed your question. You sort of understood. And as you directed him towards the bully's house, your stomach tightened in a mixture of excitement and anxiety.

"Right there, the Cayenne, his father's." You pointed at the car and your dad shamelessly parked his own only a few couples of meters away.

Another nervous chuckle left your lips as your head popped forward. Your eyes followed your dad as he jumped out of the car and headed for the trunk. The hood popped up for a minute and then your dad reappeared with what seemed to be a....BAT?

You jumped out of the car and distress shot through your veins. "Dad" You called for him but he'd already made up his mind and as you stressfullly walked behind him, he casually headed for the car, the bat vibrating in his hands. "Dad, you're gonna get us into trouble." You whispered as if whispering would make the crime your father is about to commit any less obvious.

But John totally ignored you and he swung the bat before sending it into the Cayenne's back window-the glass instantly chattered. You flinched and before you were even able to process the first hit, a second one echoed through the quiet neighborhood.

You flinched again. "Dad, st-"

"I'm only doing this for you, honey." John rounded the car and stopped at the front of the car. "If it were up to me, i'd slice the boy AND his father." The third swing hit harder, more violent. And the alarm continues blaring. "All he had to do was teach his son some manners. But since he can't do that, i'll teach 'em both a good lesson."

There's that story, and there's another one. Where you're being you, and for you, emotions have a like, a giant gravitational pull on your life-just like this time.

You and dad have been on the road for almost two days-stupid shapeshifters and it's that week of the month that's the most chaoti-- and this stupid fucking booth is weird and squishy and-

Your cheeks grew hot and wetness suddenly streamed down your face. When John noticed, he blew out a long sigh. He shut his eyes slowly, bringing his index and thumb to the opposite sides of his face, rubbing roughly.

Not fucking cool, dad. This shit's tiring enough. 'You know what-" You stop midsentence, rushing off to the bathroom but a sudden strain pulled you back.

"No-no, i'm sorry, honey, i'm sor-"

"I'm already tired enough." Your voice came out full and rough, heavy with the build up of saliva in your throat. "don't need you making fun of m-" You were about to yank your wrist away when he held it tighter.

"Come on that's not what's happening here." John swiftly got up and faced you. "I just-i'm tired too, kid. I-" He sighed again, and you wiped away your tears.

"Coooome here." Too slow but too sweet-and not a question either, your dad reached for the back of your head and brought it to his chest. He planted a kiss over your hair and gently swayed both of your bodies left and right. "Dad's here." His tone might've been gentle, but it still bore a hint of annoyance.

He doesn't mean-he "You don't mean that-you're just saying it because i'm-"

"Noo i do mean it, baby, i do-" he sighed once more. "I'm just tired. That's why i sound like this." He planted a second kiss on your forehead before boaring into your eyes. You dropped your gaze down in the process, too-

"I'm sorry." His thick eyebrows softened back to their normal position. And his bunny teeth appeared. Amused, he hesitated to speak for a few seconds. "You know you're too old for this right?"

You pinched his waist, causing him to jerk back, choking on a chuckle.

You sniffed, throwing embarassed glances his way. "Shut up."

"I'm sorry, honey."

What the hell is wrong with me? Is the first thought that comes to mind. There sure are many more stories to tell about the great John Winchester. But to sum it all up, you are indeed on his fucking side.

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@marvelfanfn2187a113

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WOO WOO, i hope yall made it to the end. See ya next time 🖤🖤🖤🥀🥀🥀