#I’d drink his seed with more reverence than I ever did with the body and blood of Christ

[certifiablyinsanez]

“I’d jump his bones like I’m a feral dog.”

-Me, an asexual lesbian, talking about Michael Sheen to my asexual partner who agrees.

[ppersonna]

ride or die - myg | m

we don't need money to feel good cause you're the ride or die, the rest of my life. don't need a party to feel high, we're like the modern version of bonnie and clyde , bonnie & clyde, yuqi

✹ summary- there’s nothing in the world you wouldn’t do for Min Yoongi.

✹ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

✹ pairing- min yoongi x reader

✹ word count- 1.6k

✹ genre- hmm idk. maybe some angst, some smut, some action?, established relationship, criminal!au

✹ chapter warnings- sexual content, mentions of criminal acts/police, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), mentions of death, guns, unhealthy obsession with each other lol

✹ a/n- hi loves! i wanted to challenge myself and write something a bit more prose-heavy than any sort of plot or semblance of plot. i hope you enjoy this random drabble that wouldnt leave my brain!!! thanks to @ladyartemesia @xjoonchildx @untaemedqueen and @nomseok​ for looking over it for me and helping me feel better about it LOLLL. i love u all ALSO PLS LISTEN TO THE SONG BONNIE AND CLYDE BY YUQI IT IS AMAZING AND WHERE I GOT ALL MY INSPO FOR THIS!!

 75 mph…

100 mph…

Yoongi’s hand grips tight on the inside of your thigh, fingers pressing into the supple flesh as his foot presses down the gas pedal. 

The engine roars, matching the screaming explosion you feel inside your chest. Your veins feel like they’re flowing with the same high-octane fuel that Yoongi’s injected to the engine of the 1969 matte black Camaro.

Yoongi.

There’s nothing in the world you wouldn’t do for Yoongi.

The engine screams to life again, tearing through the otherwise silent car. It won’t be quiet for long. You can hear the distant blaring of police sirens, the low-grade rumble of helicopter wings closing in.

Yoongi simply smirks when you glance at him, eyes focused on the road with one hand on the leather steering wheel and the other rubbing at the skin of your inner thigh.

The sirens sound closer, only streets away now. Yoongi acts as if it’s only you and him, as if there’s nowhere else he’d rather be than right here in this car with you beside him and the bag of prized jewels in the back.

You love him. You love him more than you’ve ever loved another, more than you’d ever convince yourself you’d love again. He’s all-consuming. Yoongi is the cosmos, the universe that holds you within his center.

You’d die for Yoongi.

You’d kill.

“Yoongi,” you breathe, unable to speak any further. You don’t need to. Yoongi knows what you’re saying. He grips your leg tighter and the smirk widens on his face, finally flickering his eyes over to your own. 

“I know,” he says. Because he does.

Yoongi gives no sign that he’s scared. He’s the picture of composure as he squeezes the car through narrow streets, tires squealing as he spins the wheel to slide into the next alley way and dodge the cops through yet another neighborhood. He doesn’t even bat an eye as he defends you inside the jobs, gun blazing as he ensures your safety without even a glance back. 

He gives no indication that anything can go wrong, as if his mind is already made up that everything will be okay and you’ll both get out, get away, without a scratch.

It’s different when he lays you down. He sets you on the cheap motel mattress with care, like a delicate doll, made of glass and ceramic, one wrong move away from breaking.

He presses his lips to every inch of your body, as if ensuring himself that you’re okay, that you’re here, that he got you out safely. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t want to break the reverent silence of the dingy bedroom that becomes his chapel when he has you in his arms.

Safe. 

You’re safe and Yoongi needs hours to remind himself of that, needs more than just kisses and touches. He pushes himself into you slowly, letting the tight heat of your core remind him just how alive you are. He opens you up like a prayer, spreading your legs and gasping for air as he recites the only invocation he knows, the only one he believes in.

“I love you.”

Sweaty and overheated, your hands grasp for any part of Yoongi you can--his arms, his vascular hands. You need more, need to feel him in more ways than you can count. Yoongi feels so good buried deep inside you, rocking his hips against your own and making your body scream with pent-up desire.

“I love you, Yoongi,” you nearly scream as he hits a spot within you that makes you forget about the whole world around you. “Only you.”

Yoongi doesn’t believe in a God, doesn’t believe in any higher power. But he thinks the closest to heaven is the way you cry his name for him, the way you keen for more as he spills himself inside you.

The duffel bag of dollar bills is heavy in your lap as you throw yourself into the Camaro, running from the high rise bank, and Yoongi slams on the gas pedal before you can even close the door.

“Shit!” Your hands grip at the duffel bag, trying to stay afloat in the speeding car. The door closes by itself after he careens down the highway and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“God, that was so fucking good,” Yoongi grins, voice high with excitement and adreneline. “You did so fucking good, baby doll.”

The praise goes straight to your heart, straight to the muscle inside your chest that has Yoongi’s name stamped into each vein, each artery. He’s yours, he’s so wholly yours and you so wholly his, you think you can’t even breathe without him around.

You don’t watch where he drives, too focused on the curve of his cheeks, the way his black hair is pushed back messily. You don’t care where he takes you. All you need is him and the feel of his hand resting on your thigh, a spot made just for him.

Yoongi.

I’d die for you, Yoongi, don’t you know that?

Yoongi finally, blessedly, looks over at you once he’s settled himself onto a long stretch of highway outside of the city, no longer looking in the rearview mirror for the shining lights of the police, no longer zipping and weaving between other cars on the road.

The peace of the open road settles in your chest and you let go of the duffle bag, throwing it over your shoulder to sit in the backseat, in between the bag of jewels and the expensive artwork from the last heist.

You settle into the seat and he lets his fingers spread out, touching you as if grounding himself to you. 

“You’re my ride or die, baby,” he breathes after a moment of silence. You stare straight ahead, watching as the dark sunset ahead of you bursts in an explosion of colors.

“Forever, Yoongi.”

Yoongi could spend hours between your thighs. He doesn’t even make any attempts to remove himself from the taste of your slick cunt until you’ve climaxed twice from his tongue. He eats you like he’s parched, only able to sate his thirst by drinking directly from your core.

He holds your legs tight, reminding himself you’re here, you’re with him, you’re never leaving and he’s never letting you go. 

Your hands thread through his hair, gripping the silken raven locks as he digs his tongue into your channel yet again, lapping up the sweetness that spills from your orgasm, relishing in the rhythmic chanting of his name. He never wants to hear anything else drip from your lips, wants no other name but his own staining the pretty pout and echoing around the motel room.

You are his everything. His world. His universe. 

He finally pulls away, smiling up at you after your third consecutive orgasm wrought by his mouth, and kisses at the skin of your thighs--the same place he allows his hand to rest when he steers you away from the chaos of your burglaries.

“I love you more than anything in this world,” he breathes, pressing his soft kisses up your legs and swirling around your belly.

“More than money?” You ask, out of breath.

“More than money.”

“More than jewels?”

“More than anything any bank in the world combined could have in their stores,” he promises to every inch of your breasts, tongue lapping at the nipple. “More than any king could ever want.”

“Yoongi,” you sigh when he finally slides into you, completing you. You’re nothing without him, nothing without the feeling of him within you.

“Say it again,” he whispers against your ear as he thrusts into you gently, holding you tenderly in his arms.

“Yoongi.”

His head falls against your own, foreheads touching as he bores his eyes into yours. His. His, his, his. You’re his only, and his forever, and he never wants to live another moment, another day, another second, without you.

He claims you, seed spilling deep into your womb at the height of your shared climax. Your body welcomes him, clenches with desire and milks him to the last drop, desperate to keep him within you for as long as you can.

“It’s just you and me forever, baby,” he says after he’s cleaned you up and laid you down.

Suddenly, there’s sirens and the flashing red and blue lights outside the window.

“Come out! We have you surrounded.”

Yoongi helps you throw on clothes, whispering hurriedly as he stashes the guns he needs into his pocket and throws one to you. 

He throws a look at you as he knocks the glass out of the back window of the bathroom.

“You ready for another adventure, baby?”

The gun feels heavy in your hands, but solid. Comforting. The gun is your means of staying with Yoongi, never leaving his sight. You’d take down anything that stood in the way, eliminate any threat that posed a risk of taking him away.

He notes your silence and kisses you quick, before hoisting you up to climb out the window and make a run for the hidden Camaro in the alleyway.

He catches up to you, hand slipping into your own and tugging you to run faster, the Camaro coming into your sights like a sanctuary. You can hear the pounding footsteps of the police around the building, the splintering wood as they force themselves into the now-vacant motel room, still wet and hot from where you made love.

Yoongi grins as he slides into the car and fires the engine, pulling you in for a deep and passionate kiss, hands hovering over the steering wheel.

With a quirk of his lips, he places his hand back on it’s spot on your thigh.

“Ride or die, right, baby?”

[thetravelerwrites]

A Day Off (Lemon) Human-Tiefling-Tabaxi

Rating: Lemon Relationship: Female Tabaxi/Male Human/Fem-Intersex Tiefling Additional Tags: Exophilia, Tabaxi, Tiefling, Intersex, Poly Relationship Content Warnings: Babies, Children, Kids, Pregnancy, Fatherhood, Birth Words: 3960

Another fun commission from @ocsmutpocalypse! With a festival coming up, Reverence is overworked. Ebert and Rings devised a plan to give her some time off and much needed rest and relaxation. Please reblog and leave feedback!

The Traveler's Masterlist

The Festival of Bounty was a few weeks away and was Fysy’s most important holiday, aside from Fysy’s Benevolence, which was in spring. It represented not just a fruitfulness of the harvest and of children, but also a deeper understanding of one’s heart, soul, and spirit. A sowing of the inner self and a harvest of spiritual awareness, so to speak.

In fact, on the day itself, it was common practice to abstain from any sexual release in order for the next “seeding” to be that much more potent when planted. Some often chose to wait the whole month prior to the celebrations. Since the harvest festival took place on the first day of autumn, it wasn’t uncommon for there to be a slew of births at the end of spring the following year.

Reverence was the town’s leader, of course, but for the most part, the town ran itself. Very little supervision was needed beyond the odd bar tussle. People governed themselves, and arguments that couldn’t be settled between the parties involved were brought to Reverence and a select council of trusted townspeople. Otherwise, Reverence kept to the temple.

The festivals were the only times she was one hundred percent in charge, and Ebert had never seen her this… frazzled. Between decorations, food, preparing the sermon for the evening, writing the blessing for the feast, planning children’s activities, and coordinating the dancers and musicians, Reverence was looking a little… fried.

“No, no, no,” She said, waving at one of the four people surrounding her with different things. “Harvest colors! Orange, deep red, dark greens. Bright colors are for spring. Just like always, Tera.”

“I’m just saying, we should put a pop of color in the decor!” Tera was saying, talking over the other three vying for Reverence’s attention. “Harvest colors are so dull and drab. Just a little bit of pink would liven it up.”

“Tera,” Reverence said dangerously. “Harvest colors. I’m tired having this argument every year. If you can’t follow the directions, I’ll put someone else in charge. Traditions are traditions for a reason.”

Tera stormed off with a groan, and another person took her place with another issue that needed addressing right fucking now, apparently. Ebert and Rings were sitting on the porch of Reverence’s house, drinking tea and watching all of this happen.

“Is it always like this?” Ebert asked. He’d only been a member of the town for a little over a year, and had been gone with Rings during last year’s festivals, both Bounty and Benevolence.

“Oh, you should have been here three years ago,” Rings replied, watching it all with an air of enjoying the show. “I thought she was literally, literally, going to unhinge her jaw and bite Tera’s head off.”

“Oh, I’d pay to see that,” Ebert joked, sipping from his teacup. “Tera keeps telling me I dress like a hobo.”

“You do dress like a hobo,” Rings replied, eating a slice of cured sausage.

“True, but she does it really need to be said aloud?”

Rings snickered.

Ethrik was at Ebert’s feet, playing with a toy centaur and babbling in his baby tongue, oblivious to the tension in the air emanating like the waves of an angry tide from his mother. Ebert had spent a lot of time with Ethrik since he had been home, forming a very strong bond with his son.

“You have plenty of money now,” Rings continued. “Why don’t you just buy new clothes?”

“I dislike merchants,” Ebert said, watching Reverence sighed in aggravation when another person handed her some papers to go over. “They don’t care if it actually fits or looks good, they’re just trying to make a profit. And tailors are worse. They fuss about fabrics and embellishments. Pfft. It’s too much hassle. I always buy my clothes secondhand. It may not be pretty, but it keeps me warm and I’m not naked, which is good enough for me, so it should be good enough for everyone. A rag on a string is better than having my business out on full display.”

“Rag on a string, you say?” Rings said, looking at Ebert with a distant expression and smirking.

“Don’t start with me, it’s too early,” Ebert said.

“It’s evening!”

“Any time of the day is too early to deal with your shit, Rings,” Ebert quipped.

“You like it,” She replied, grinning so that every single one of her sharp teeth were visible.

“Why don’t you help her?” Ebert said, watching Reverence rub her temples in exasperation.

“Pfft,” Rings scoffed. “Do I look like the event planner type? I wouldn’t even go to this thing if it wasn’t for the free food. I’m not exactly the religious type, if you hadn’t figured it out yet.”

“Neither am I,” Ebert replied. “But she is our lover. We should do something to help her.”

“So why don’t you help her?” She asked snidely.

“I’m watching Ethrik,” Ebert said with a sniff.

“Yeah, literally anyone in town could do that. He’s the town’s kid as much as he is yours.”

Ebert snorted and picked up his son, who squealed happily. “Yes, perhaps, but I want to watch him. I’ve grown rather fond of the little thing, oddly enough.”

Ebert meant that, too. It wasn’t typical of his family to form attachments, most especially to other family. So his affection for his son was something he hadn’t expected to happen, and he was rather surprised and delighted by it.

“Bleh,” Rings retorted, sticking out her tongue in disgust. “If I ever say I want kids, put me in the nut house because I’ve gone crazy.”

“They’re not so bad,” Ebert said, holding his son up high and making fart noises. Ethrik giggled happily.

“Says the person who’ll never know the misery of carrying one of the little crotch goblins in his body,” Rings said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ebert said, nose-nuzzling Ethrik and sitting the little boy in his lap. “Still, I feel like we should do something for Reverence, even if it’s not helping with the festival. Has she ever had a massage? Like, a real one, not just one that led directly to sex?”

“How would I know?” Rings said, picking her teeth.

“Do you pay attention to anything that doesn’t involve you directly?” Ebert asked sardonically.

“Should I?”

Ebert shook his head. “You’re a jewel, Rings.”

She smiled. “I know,” She said in a sing-song voice.

“But really. I think I may have Spring take Ethrik tonight. Reverence needs some kind of help. Help that doesn’t involve dealing with… them.” He pointed at the gaggle of people surrounding Reverence as she walked back to the temple.

“A day off would be nice,” Rings said. “We could lie and tell people she’s sick tomorrow.”

“That’s a good idea,” Ebert said. “Spend the day pampering her. I should buy a few things, if that’s the case.”

“You do that, I’ll clean up the house a bit,” Rings said.

“Look at you, doing something nice,” Ebert said, picking up Ethrik’s bag and his cane with one hand.

“Meh. Don’t get used to it.” Rings disappeared into the house and Ebert went to see Spring about sitting Ethrik for a couple of days.

Reverence came back to her home later that night and collapsed onto the bed face-down.

“I love this town, I really do,” She said, muffled by the bedding. “But it’s times like these that make me want to dig a hole and hide in it for the rest of the month.”

Ebert smirked. “Trust me, both Rings and I totally understand that.”

“Hell, Spring, Ebert, and you are the only reason I stay in this town at all,” Rings said.

Reverence was so exhausted that she hadn’t noticed the candles, incense, and the mulled wine stacked on the table. Ebert had bought massage oils, lotions, hoof polish, the works. He and Rings were planning a day of pampering Reverence had never experienced before.

“Are you hungry, love?” Ebert asked.

“Not especially,” Reverence mumbled. “Where’s Ethrik?”

“Staying with my sister tonight,” Rings replied.

“Oh, good,” She said, her many eyes closed. “I want to sleep for a week.”

Ebert and Rings crawled into bed with her. “Sleep then,” Ebert said. “Tomorrow will be brighter. You’ll see.”

“If you say so,” She said, already half-asleep. But the time Rings and Ebert got comfortable, Reverence’s breathing was slow and even, and she was dead to the world.

The next morning, the three of them awoke to banging on the door. Reverence groaned and made to get up, but Rings stopped her.

“I got this, you rest,” She said. She went to the door and opened it, facing the crowd of people needing Reverence’s stamp of approval. “Listen up, you leeches. Reverence is sick. She’s staying in bed today. If any of you try and bother her while she’s resting, I will personally bite your dick off. Or whatever you’ve got that would hurt a lot. Now fuck off!” And with that, she slammed the door.

“What?” Reverence said, sitting up. “I’m not sick--”

Ebert covered her mouth. “Shh! Not so loud. We’re buying you a day off.”

Reverence removed his hand. “A day off?”

“Yes,” Rings said as she made her way back to the bed. “We got candles and food and wine and oils and rosewater and we are going to spoil the shit out of you today.”

“Part of me knows I should go out there and do my job,” Reverence said, rubbing her neck. “But, by Fysy, that sounds amazing. How can I say no?”

“Don’t,” Ebert said, bending forward to kiss her. Rings ran her claws gently up and down Reverence’s back, making her shiver.

“So what did you have planned?” Reverence asked.

“Spa day,” Rings said, kneading Reverence’s shoulders. “Ebert and I are going to wash you, then he is going to massage oils into your skin while I wash your hair and file your hooves for you.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Reverence moaned.

“Then when your dry and smooth, I’m thinking naked breakfast in bed and lounging for a while.” Ebert said.

“Lounging sounds incredible,” She sighed.

“Well, you lay here and stay comfortable and I’ll heat some water for your bath,” Ebert said. “Rings, keep her warm.”

“Happily,” Rings said, kissing down Reverence’s neck.

“Hey, don’t get ahead of yourselves,” Ebert said, moving the cauldron of water over the fire. “We’ve got all day to enjoy each other.”

“Spoilsport,” Rings said, rubbing up and down on Reverence’s torso as Reverence snugged in deeper to the bed, enjoying the attention.

After water was heated and transferred into the tub, Reverence climbed into the water, moaning with deep satisfaction as the hot water unknotted the muscles in her body.

“Feel good?”

“Mmmm,” Was all she could manage to say. Ebert got the scented soap and scrubbed her body down gently as Rings carefully washed Reverence’s face and antlers, careful not to get soap in her many eyes. Once she was clean, Rings and Ebert let her soak a little longer while they set up breakfast and the massage area. There was a wide bench she could lay on as Ebert worked on her body, and she could hang her head down for Rings to wash her hair.

Once everything was ready, Rings and Ebert helped Reverence out of the tub and onto the bench, laying her on her back with her head over the end.

Rings took a bottle of sweet smelling hair rinse that had melon oils and honeysuckle dew, and drew it carefully through Reverence’s thick hair. Ebert took a bottle of sweet almond oil and lathered his hands up, starting at Reverences ankles and working his way up slowly. Reverence groaned and whimpered appreciatively as he worked up over her calves, her thighs, and her hips while purposefully ignoring between her legs. They’d get to that later.

He rubbed the oils into her belly and breasts, over her shoulders, and down her arms to her hands, working the oils into her skin.

“Rings, are you finished with her hair?” Ebert asked.

“I’ve just finished combing it out,” She said.

“Good. Reverence, can you turn over?”

“I’ll try,” She said, smiling a little.

Ebert and Rings helped her stand, and then lay back down on her stomach.

“Rings, you start at the bottom, I’ll come down from the top, and we’ll meet in the middle.”

Rings nodded and dripped some oils into her hands. Minutes turned to hours, and the three of them were lost in the motion of the hands moving along skin.

When the oil was well worked into the skin, Ebert took a towel and dried her while Rings helped her sit up.

Apparently, the massage had done much to improve her mood, because when she got up, her phallus was standing straight up. Rings began to stroke it as she gently patted Reverence’s hair with a towel.

“Let’s move to the bed,” Ebert suggested.

“Good idea,” Rings agreed. Rings and Ebert both took one of Reverence’s hands and lay her down on the bed. She stretched out and looked up at the two of them with a smile. Rings stripped off her clothes and undressed Ebert as well, and the two of them got on the bed. Rings took Reverence’s member in her mouth while Ebert opened Reverence’s legs and pressed his lips to the slit underneath. Reverence’s breath hitched and she moaned blissfully.

Ebert pressed two fingers inside her and kissed her thighs, nipping with his teeth and massaging with his free hand.

“Oh, gods, I could get used to this,” She breathed. “Usually as priestess of Fysy, it’s my job to make sure my patrons are well satisfied even if I am not, but I’ve never had this kind of attention before. It’s intoxicating.”

“Considering how much you give of yourself to this town, you’re well overdue for some worship yourself,” Ebert said.

“That almost sounds blasphemous,” Reverence said with a smirk.

“I guess we’re all sinners today,” Rings said, her tongue playing with the tip of Reverence’s length.

“Fysy is a forgiving goddess, thankfully,” Reverence laughed.

“Good,” Rings said as she pulled herself up and swung a leg over Reverence’s body, nearly kicking Ebert in the face, and straddled Reverence’s waist. “We’re going to make you feel like you’ve transcended and reached godhood yourself.”

Reverence grabbed Rings’ hips as she slowly lowered herself down onto Reverence’s cock, gasping as she was stretched open. Ebert moved around to suck at Reverences breasts, still continuing to move his fingers in and out of her.

Rings and Reverence were moaning and breathing hard, Rings bouncing faster against Reverence’s body. Reverence reached down and took Ebert’s length in her hand, stroking it slowly.

“Rings,” Reverence gasped. “Lean forward a little, give Ebert some room.”

Rings nodded and complied wordlessly, and Ebert took his place between Reverence’s legs, easing his cock inside her as Rings rode Reverence hard.

“Match Rings,” Reverence groaned. Ebert had no time to work up to it, instead he rammed himself into Reverence at the same frenetic pace that Rings was thrusting down upon her, matching the rhythm. It was intense and mind-blowing, and the three of them were making more noise than they had intended, but it couldn’t be helped. They were in a primal state, unable to stop.

“Oh, fuck,” Rings hissed. “I’m going to cum.”

“So am I,” Reverence breathed. “Unless you want to get pregnant, you better hop off.”

Rings jumped off like Reverence had the plague, and Ebert stroked Reverence until she came with Rings rubbing herself to completion next to her.

Ebert slowed to a stop as Reverence was coming down.

“Didn’t you finish?” Reverence asked.

“No,” Ebert said, cleaning her up. “But I’m not worried. We have all day after all.”

Now came breakfast in bed, naked, and it was wonderful. Reverence was relaxed and laughing for the first time in weeks. Ebert was happy to see the smile on her face. The three of them lay on the bed, eating and talking, when another knock at the door startled them.

“I’ll handle it,” Ebert said. He pulled on his trousers and a shirt and opened the door a crack. Tera stood there, looking incensed.

“I need to talk to Reverence,” She said.

“Reverence isn’t feeling well and is taking the day off. Whatever it is, it can wait until tomorrow,” Ebert said.

“Please, I know she’s not sick! I could hear you, you know! Half the town could! She’s avoiding me.”

“Yes, and she has a good reason to, doesn’t she?” Ebert said, coming out and shutting the door. “She has told you over and over how to do it, and you keep ignoring her. Why exactly is that?”

“Because she won’t listen to reason!” Tera said. “Harvest colors are boring! It’s the same thing every year! Why not change it up a little!”

“I don’t give a shit if it’s boring, Tera!” Ebert said. “No one does, except you! Do it the way you were told and shut the fuck up! Leave Reverence alone, or I swear to god, I will curse your hands so that everything you touch turns shit brown, you understand me?”

Tera looked both pissed and scared. She turned on her heel and walked away quick-step.Sighing and rolling his eyes, Ebert went back into the house.

“All good?” Reverence asked.

“Yep,” Ebert said, returning to the bed and kissing Reverence deeply. “You won’t have to worry about Tera anymore. This year, at least.”

Reverence laughed in relief. “That’s a miracle. Now if you could do that with everyone else.”

“Sorry, I can only threaten to curse so many people before they start calling me on it,” Ebert replied, smiling.

They took a nap together, then ate a leisurely lunch. The house smelled of flowers and fruit and fresh bread. The three of them talked about anything and everything. It was strange, as if the cottage had been enclosed in a bubble and that the three of them were the only one in existence at that time. It was an odd bonding experience that the three of them had never felt before. More intimate than sex could ever have been.

As evening fell, the three of them were relaxed and content. Reverence was stroking Ebert to attention again, and Rings was kissing Ebert’s chest.

“What’s this, all of a sudden?” Ebert said, curious, but not complaining.

“I want to thank the two of you for my nice day off,” Reverence said, poking Ebert onto his back and straddling him. She thrust him into her with a gasp, and bent down to kiss him. She then pulled Rings to her with Rings’ back to her front. As she moved back and forth, her length thrust in and out between Rings’ legs, rubbing her pearl with each motion.

“Oh gods,” Ebert groaned.  

It didn’t take long for all three of them to be a moaning mess again. Rings came first, snarling and spitting, then Ebert inside of Reverence. Reverence came last all over Ebert’s stomach and chest. The three of them collapsed on top of each other, heedless of the mess they’d made.

“I think I need another bath,” Reverence breathed, and the three of them laughed.

The festival went off without a hitch. The whole day was a testament to Reverence’s patience and even-temper. The children had a blast, the food was amazing, and the games for the adults had everyone rolling in laughter.

Reverence led the dancers that evening, moving like a gazelle across the stage that had been built. They dances were swift and full of color and vivaciousness. It amazed Ebert that she could move like that without smacking someone with her antlers, but she did it like she been doing it her whole life. That may have been the case.

That evening, after the dancing and before the great feast, Reverence stood at the top step of the temple and asked for quiet.

“The first day of harvest is a day of contemplation. It is a day to take in all the glory that Fysy has bestowed upon us. Blessings of food, fortune, health, and of course, the next generation.” She looked fondly at all the children seated at the great table with their parents, lingering over Ethrik in Ebert’s lap. “Today we give thanks as we reap the benefits of her love and tenderness. From her, we exist. For her, we thrive. Without her, we  despair and die. We are fortunate and grateful. Humbled, I would ask for a moment of silence, so that we may all contemplate our own blessings received in this past year and thank the one who gave them to us.”

Ebert knew she meant Fysy, but really, the people who gave him his blessings was the glorious woman standing gracefully at the base of the temple, and the firey woman sitting next to him, already picking from the tray in front of her. And the little boy in his lap, who taught him what is was to love.

“Now, let us take into ourselves the bounty. Let the Feast of Fysy begin!”

There was cheering from the crowd, and a lot of noise as everyone filled their plates. Reverence came to sit on Ebert’s other side and took Ethrik from him.

“This festival has actually run much more smoothly than the ones before,” She remarked.

“I wonder why,” Ebert said. “Maybe that day off helped clear your head.”

“I have no doubt it did,” She replied. “Remind me to schedule one during every festival’s preparation.”

Rings and Ebert laughed.

At the end of the festival, there were fireworks. Ethrik was delighted by them and laughed hysterically with each big BOOM! With Rings on his left side, Reverence on his right, and his son in his lap, it really did feel like a family. A real family, something Ebert had never had.

He took Rings’ hand, rested his head on Reverence’s shoulder, and smiled. “Reverence?” He asked.

“Hmm?” She answered.

“How would you feel about making a little sister for Ethrik?”

He could feel her smile. “Tonight? Midnight?”

“Sounds great to me.”

“Urgh,” Rings said. “I’m staying with Spring tonight.”

“Take Ethrik with you. We might be at it for a few days,” Ebert said.

“In that case, I’ll drop off the kid and go one town over. There’s a girl there who looks like she needs learning in the ways of Fysy.”

“You’re not religious,” Ebert said snidely.

“I am when it suits me,” Rings said. “And I think she’ll suit me nicely.”

Reverence was pregnant before the end of the month. This time, Ebert was ecstatic and couldn’t wait for the birth.

“Calm down, Ebert,” She told him when he learned she was pregnant. “I’ve done this a dozen times by now.”

“I know, but this is only my second, and I was scared shitless for the first one.”

“You’re not scared this time?” Reverence asked.

“Oh, gods, I’m terrified. But I know I can be a good dad now, and I can’t wait for Ethrik to have a sibling who will actually love him.”

“Ethrik has many siblings, Ebert,” Reverence reminded him.

“I know… but… this feels different for me,” Ebert said. “My family might as well have been complete strangers. I’ve never felt what having a real family is like. It’s… amazing.”

Reverence hugged him. “Oh, Ebert. I’m so glad you’ve come here. Family is so important and I’m glad you found it here.”

Rings was there, watching the two of them distantly, until Ebert snatched her up and pulled her into the hug too.

Buttons looked over the scene from her perch on a wardrobe and yawned.

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Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

[green-eyeddragonfanfiction]

A Dance With the Devil: Part 2

Pairing: Incubus!Bucky x Reader Summary: You sold your soul to the devil. Literally. But as far as you’re concerned, every ounce of pleasure Bucky brings you is worth the risk. Warnings: Language, smut, NSFW 18+, unprotected sex, anal play, oral, fingering, filthy porn gifs, blood, blood drinking Word Count: ~a lot I guess idk. Maybe 4k? A/N: This fic is the winner for my 500 follower Fan Pick Fic Celebration! Thank you to everyone who voted, I love you all (even if you did make me write 5k+ words of pure filth). This has little to no plot. Enjoy. *gifs not mine* This has been reposted after my original was deleted in the Great Tumblr Purge 2k18.

Masterlist // The Monster Series Collection // Previous Part

“Yeah, that’s right, baby. You’re such a good girl,” Bucky purred as his cock pumped in and out of your soaking cunt. You mewled against the gag in your mouth, back arching in pleasure at his praise. Your fingers gripped the silky sheets, fighting against the urge to come undone under his expert attention. Your legs quaked with the effort to keep yourself up on your hands and knees.

 You’re not allowed to cum until I say so, pet.

His orders were the only thing keeping you from giving into the primal urge. Using the chain leash attached to the collar on your neck, he pulled you onto his cock again and again. As if that wasn’t enough, he slowed down every time he felt you getting close.

It was torture. Pure, delicious torture.

“You take my cock so nice, sweetheart,” he praised, sending a chill straight down your spine. “I wish you could see how well your greedy pussy takes me,” he murmured, eyes glued on the spot where the two of you were connected.

At the thought, your walls clenched around him, causing a deep groan to escape his lips.

You needed him to fuck you harder; needed him deep inside of you, but you knew you’d be punished if you tried to set the pace and your orgasm would only be denied even longer.

“Fuck, Doll. I love it when your cunt hugs my dick like that,” he said, running a hand down your back and over your bouncing ass. You moaned against the ball gag, walls fluttering around his cock again at his filthy praises. He groaned and picked up the pace and the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room. He leaned forward, yanking your head back slightly by the leash and collar. You could feel his hot breath against your ear. “Hell, babydoll. I’m getting close. Want me to fill you up with my seed, you filthy cock slut?” he murmured as he nibbled on your ear.

You turned your head as much as you could to look at him, nodding fiercely, eyes pleading with his. You needed his cum in you. Needed to feel him release deep inside you while you came hard on his cock.

A few thrusts later you could feel him fast approaching his orgasm. His hips snapped into yours, pace erratic, as he chased his own release. His free hand slipped around you and between your leg, finger tracing lazy circles around your clit. Your hips bucked at his touch and you bit back a scream of pleasure. You were going to-

“Cum for me, Doll,” he whispered into your ear.

And just like that, the tight coil in the pit of your stomach snapped. Your cries were muffled by the gag but your pleasure was evident. Your walls fluttered around Bucky’s cock as he pumped into you, pace brutal, fingers dancing on your clit. He murmured praises and filthy words into your ear and a moment later his hips faltered and he groaned, hips snapping into you once, twice, three times before they stilled. You could feel his cock twitching inside of you, painting your walls and filling you up with thick ribbons of cum.

The two of you stayed there for a moment, panting, as you tried to catch your breath. Without pulling out of you, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you against his chest. He deftly undid your gag, throwing it onto the floor, and kissed you passionately.

You moaned into the kiss, gasping when he pulled his quickly softening cock from you. You bemoaned its loss and turned to face him, deepening the kiss.

Bucky chuckled at your eagerness, hands roaming down your back. When he reached between your legs and felt the mix of his cum and your juices dripping down your inner thigh he groaned into the kiss, trapping your bottom lip between his teeth before he soothed it with a lick.

He broke the kiss, leaning back to admire you, smirk dancing on his lips. You tried to lean forward to kiss him, but he picked you up as though you weighed nothing and hopped off of the bed. You pouted, but didn’t say anything.

It seems you didn’t need to; he read the disappointment easily on your face and chuckled, placing a gentle kiss to your temple.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, Doll,” he said quietly, breath tickling your cheek. With the hand that wasn’t holding you, he unhooked the leash, tossing it on the bed where it jangled merrily as it settled against the rumpled sheets.

“I’d rather you just get me messier,” you said, looking up at him coyly through your eyelashes.

“Don’t tempt me, Doll. Sin is my thing,” he said, smirking as he kissed you hard on the lips, leaving you breathless. “When was the last time you ate? And, no. My cock doesn’t count,” he said, winking playfully at you.

You scowled at him, pouting. You racked your brain trying to remember, but came up with nothing but debauched memories of you and him together.

He correctly interpreted your silence and smiled ruefully. “See? You need to eat, Doll. But we need to get you cleaned up first,” he said, giving you an absolutely filthy smile that you only had a second to guess at before he hefted you up, setting your thighs on his shoulders. You lost your balance and began to fall backwards, but your back gently hit the wall before you’d made it more than a few inches.

You looked down at him, surprise on your face. “I was expecting a bath,” you said wryly.

He grinned up at you, eyes dark with lust. “And waste all this?” he asked coyly, running a finger through your folds. “Never,” he said quietly, lips ghosting against your fuck-swollen lips.

You shivered at the feeling, hips jutting forward of their own volition as he ran his tongue up your folds in a thick stripe. You sighed, throwing your head back against the wall, and his hands slid under your ass to help support you. One of your hands buried themselves in his hair and tugged gently, pulling him onto your cunt and earning a deep groan from him that you felt all the way in your core.

He lapped eagerly at your combined juices, apparently relishing the way you tasted together. He worked his tongue through your folds, occasionally stopping to suck gently at your sensitive clit. You ground your hips into his face, loving the sensations he was bringing you, but needing more.

“Fuck, James-” you moaned, free hand reaching up to grip desperately onto the door frame behind to you. The sight of him below you, eagerly licking away at his own cum along with your own juices, was perhaps the most sinful thing you’d ever seen him do, and you’d seen him do a lot.

You felt one of his hands sneak closer to your ass. His thumb was soaked from the juices that had trickled down your core and to your ass while he’d been working. He rubbed at your ass gently, thumb working the ring of muscle there until it relaxed.

You knew what was coming, but you still gasped when he slipped his thumb in, pushing it slowly but steadily in as far as it would go.

His mouth worked your clit lightly while he worked; you were so sensitive after your previous orgasm that it didn’t take much to draw pleasure from the swollen bud.

“M-Master! I’m not going to- to last long if-”

He seemed to realize this, too, because his thumb and tongue began to work in tandem, thrusting in and out together. He groaned as a new wave of arousal hit his tongue. He looked up at you, eyes flashing black before returning to their icy blue.

“Cum for me, baby,” he said quickly, mouth leaving you only for a moment before it returned, nose nudging your clit gently as he tongue fucked you, his thumb burying itself deep into your ass.

You came a second later, thighs clamping down on his head, calling his name over and over again. He kept up his fevered pace, carrying you through the waves of pleasure as they racked your body.

When you were done he gently removed his thumb, placed a gentle kiss on your inner thigh, and returned you once again to his arms.

“Thank you, James,” you murmured reverently, thoroughly fucked out.

“Your pleasure is mine, Doll. Anything for you,” he said earnestly, small smile on his lip as he placed a tender kiss on your hair. “Do you want a bath now?” he asked as he walked towards the huge luxury bathroom the two of you shared.

“Only if you join me,” you said salaciously, sending a flirty wink up at him.

He scoffed, wide grin on his lips. “You’re incorrigible,” he said, though his chastising tone was somewhat undermined by the lustful look he gave you.

“So that’s a yes?” you asked as he entered the bathroom and began filling the tub, easily adjusting you in his arms so he wouldn’t have to set you down.

“No, Doll. I’m going to go get some food for you while you’re washing up,” he said, running a finger tenderly over your cheek. Your face fell and you looked away from him, upset.

He sighed and leaned down to kiss you, lips lingering where your mouth was pulled down into a frown. Eventually, his insistent kisses won out and you smiled up at him, temporarily placated.

“I’ll be back soon, alright?” he murmured against your neck, breath warm against your skin.

You hummed your response, carding your fingers through your hair. He gently set you into the now-full bath, leaning over it to kiss you deeply before he pulled away.

He grabbed a fluffy towel from the rack and set it on the edge of the sink where it was within arm’s reach, giving you one last appreciative once-over.

“Enjoy your bath, Doll,” he said. You could tell from the way he was stalling that he didn’t want to leave, either.

“Hurry back please, Buck,” you said, smiling up at him as though he was the most beautiful thing in the universe (and to you, he was).

“Now that I can manage,” he said, throwing you a wink before he took a few steps out of the bathroom and vanished on the spot.

You tried not to sulk at his absence, resolving to make yourself presentable for his return. First order of business: fixing the rats’ nest you called your hair.

 Bucky’s POV

Bucky appeared in an alley a few blocks from your favorite restaurant. He looked down and realized he was still naked. While the sexual excitement in the air would be delicious if he walked around naked, he knew he’d attract too much attention. With a snap of his fingers clothes appeared on his body.

Satisfied, he walked out onto the busy New York street, making a beeline for the restaurant. The quicker he got your food, the quicker you’d finish eating and the quicker the both of you could get back to more pleasurable activities.

Bucky hated the hunger. He was always hungry nowadays. You were delicious, but he couldn’t ever take his fill of you, or you’d almost certainly die. You hadn’t noticed yet, but you’d been losing your strength slowly while you were with him. He wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to stay with you before-

“Hey, stranger,” came a sultry voice from just a few feet behind him.

Bucky heaved out a sigh and didn’t bother turning around. He knew that voice.

“What do you want, Natasha?” he asked the succubus wearily.

She caught up to him and fell into step beside him, peering up at him curiously. “Not lookin’ so hot there, pal,” she said, studying Bucky through her long lashes.

“None of your business, Nat,” he said grumpily, opening the door to the Chinese restaurant.

“So you won’t mind if I tell Steve where you are?” she said nonchalantly, smirking when Bucky froze for a second.

“This is none of that damn punk’s business,” Bucky growled under his breath, not bothering to hide his anger now that Natasha had already gotten a reaction out of him. He took his place at the end of the line, determinedly not looking at her.

“Well you should know that little witch- the one you stole your pet from- went to him for help, and you know how fallen angels can be-”

“I didn’t steal her,” Bucky said, glowering at Natasha out of the corner of his eye. “She made the deal of her own free will. You know the rules,” he spat.

“Well the witch can’t come after you, but Steve sure can. And with her help, he can actually find you… And you don’t seem strong enough to stop him at present,” she said, smirking as she looked him up and down.

“Fuck off, Nat,” Bucky said venomously before he coached his face back into something resembling neutrality and gave the man behind the counter your order.

“You’re welcome for the warning, big boy,” Natasha whispered in his ear. Bucky’s eye twitched but otherwise made no sign he’d heard her.

By the time he turned around with the receipt, Natasha was gone.

He groaned in frustration, running a hand down his face. “Fuck,” he muttered angrily, willing himself not to take his anger out on bystanders.

They couldn’t have you. He wouldn’t let them take you from him.

 Steve and Wanda’s POV

“You’re sure this will work?” Steve asked warily, eyeing the map as though it had committed murder.

“It will… unless he took her to hell or killed her,” Wanda said, wincing at the thought. It was her fault you were in this situation and she’d do everything in her power to ensure you’d get out of your deal and away from that demon.

“She’s still alive,” came a voice from behind them. They both spun, Wanda’s fingertips alight with red energy, Steve dropping into a combat stance, a shield of corrupted energy appearing in front of him. “Calm down, I’m not here to fight,” Natasha said, smiling salaciously at them.

“Succubi don’t fight,” Steve said knowingly, glaring at the red-haired demoness.

Her grin widened at that, her teeth flashing in the gloom of Wanda’s room. “Point taken. I’m not here to suck your souls out through your genitals, either.”

Wanda relaxed imperceptibly, but her hands still swirled with energy.

Steve glanced between Natasha and Wanda, before his gaze fixed on the redhead. “You said she’s alive? Bucky hasn’t killed her? Or taken her to hell?” he asked, barely daring to believe his ears. You’d been gone for nearly a month; succubi and incubi victims almost never lasted past the first night, much less three weeks.

“Yup! He seems to have taken a liking to her. From what I’ve heard from the other demons, he’s keeping her well-fed and safe. Not sure where, though,” she said, shrugging.

“And why are you telling us this?” Wanda asked, distrust clear in her voice.

Natasha crossed her arms, leveling her steely gaze at Wanda. “Because it’s probably killing them both. We’re not meant to live off one person; it’s fuck, feast, kill, repeat. I’ve seen Bucky recently; he looks weak. I doubt she’s much better off.”

Both Wanda and Steve paled at her words.

“Find them soon, loves. Or there might not be much left to find,” she said ominously before she vanished, air disturbed where she’d just stood.

 Your POV

You sat in Bucky’s lap while you ate. His arms were wrapped around you and he rested his forehead on your back, occasionally pressing a light kiss between your shoulder blades.

Eventually, you set your food down and placed your hands gently over his.

“What’s wrong, Bucky?” you asked quietly as you traced patterns gently over the back of his hands. He’d told you a while ago it was alright for you to call him Bucky outside of the bedroom and you’d taken to the nickname eagerly.

He tensed at your question for a moment before he let out a year’s worth of sighs and pulled you firmly to his chest. “It’s nothin’, Babydoll,” he murmured into your hair.

“You’re a terrible liar, Buck,” you said, turning your head so you could look up at him.

He rolled his eyes at that, planting a kiss to your cheek. There was no use hiding it, it seemed. “They’re coming for you, Doll,” he murmured, running one of his huge hands up and down your arm comfortingly.

“They?” you asked, raising an eyebrow in question.

“Your witch friend and my… friend Steve,” he said, tripping over the word friend.

“Well Wanda can’t attack demons, right? She said something one time about-”

“She can’t,” Bucky agreed as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“And Steve’s a demon, so he won’t-”

“He’s not a demon,” Bucky said solemnly, eyes far away.

You paused, surprised and confused. Demons usually only ever made friends with other demons. For Bucky to make friends with-

“He’s a fallen angel, Doll. I used to be an angel. We were friends back then. In heaven. I fell and turned, and he refused to fight me in the name of Heaven…. so they took his wings and cast him to Earth. He’s been looking for me ever since,” Bucky explained sadly.

“And you never talked to-”

“I know what I am, Doll. I’ve come to terms with it. Steve still sees the being I used to be. I don’t want to put either of us through the hardship of trying to reconcile the thing I was with the thing I am,” he said, tone making it clear he was done talking about the subject.

You bit your lip, wanting to say more, but not wanting to upset him further.

“Finish eating, pet,” he murmured, breath tickling your skin. “I need you,” he said, voice deep with lust.

You nodded quickly, picking up your takeout boxes and eating with perhaps a bit too much gusto, as you almost choked on a piece of sweet-and-sour chicken. He chuckled at your eagerness, wrapping his large, comforting arms securely around your waist.

“Neither I nor the chicken are going anywhere, Doll. Take your time,” he chastised warmly.

The two of you didn’t make it to the bedroom. In fact, your clothes didn’t even make it all of the way off. You didn’t wear much in the way of clothing as it was anymore, anyway, but the panties you had on were shoved hastily to the side. The nice clothing he’d worn out could have come off with the snap of his fingers, but he knew how much you liked seeing him in them.

You’d made it as far as the couch. You were above him, riding his dick while his hips snapped up into yours. “Fuck, James, you feel so damn good,” you moaned, lusty eyes half closed as you looked down at him.

He pulled you down into a kiss, swallowing your moans as he thrust deeply into you. His hands found your hips and he pulled you down onto his dick, spearing you again and again on his thick cock.

He broke the hiss, groaning when he hit your cervix. You mewled at the feeling; just the right amount of pain to mix with the pleasure.

“Fuck, Babydoll. You make the prettiest noises,” he murmured, transfixed by the way your breasts bounced in front of his face. “Let me hear more,” he said, leaning forward to capture one of your nipples between his lips. Your back arched forward and your hips momentarily lost their rhythm before his hands forced you down onto him and helped you keep pace.

You moaned loudly, the sensations nearly overwhelming you. “Master, please, don’t stop!” you begged. “Need you to keep fucking me!”

“Mm I love when you beg for my cock,” he groaned. You yelped in surprise when he picked you up, hips not faltering in their pace for a moment. You wrapped your arms around his neck, head thrown back in ecstasy as he carried you towards the bedroom. His strong arms kept you aloft, hooked just below your knees. While he walked he buried his face in your exposed neck, leaving love bites and drawing breathy gasps from your lips when he nibbled at your sensitive flesh.

Before you knew it you were in the bedroom the two of you shared together. He pulled out of you long enough to throw you unceremoniously onto the bed. You bounced, only able to see the white ceiling before you settled and looked over at him. In the seconds you hadn’t been watching him, he must have used his powers to strip. He was a glorious vision standing there, completely nude. He was over you a second later, kissing you fiercely. He tore at your clothes, ripping your panties off of your body. You broke the kiss long enough to yank your shirt over your head. A half second later his fingers undid the clasps of your bra, and it promptly joined your shirt and ruined panties on the floor. His lips were back on yours instantly. You were so enthralled by the heated kiss you didn’t see the things in his hands until a handcuff closed around one of your wrists.

You broke the kiss, looking up at him in surprise.

He looked down at you, pupils blown wide with lust, and licked his lips. “Problem, Doll?” he asked seductively as he closed the other cuff around your other wrist.

The cold metal made you shiver, as did the thoughts of the pleasure to come. “No, Master,” you said fervently.

“Hold still, pet,” he murmured, reaching for a length of rope you kept in the bedside table. You practically quivered with anticipation. He threw the bulk of it around the headboard before securing each end to your wrist. With the second end tied, your hands were stuck above your head. He gave it a firm tug just to make sure it wouldn’t come undone before he grabbed another pair of handcuffs, this one with a longer chain.

You gave him a confused look, trying to figure out what the second pair was for, but he only smiled at you, taking a nipple into his mouth as his hands ran down your sides. The cold scrape of the metal raised goosebumps on your skin and only emphasized the heat of his mouth against you. You expected his hands to linger around your hips and core, but they kept going downward until he reached your ankles. He slowly brought one of your legs up, closing the cuff securely around your ankle, before he brought the other up. He pressed your legs back until they were snug against your sides and threw the chain for the ankle cuffs around the handcuff chain before attaching it to your other ankle. The end result was your complete inability to move your arms or lower your legs, exposing yourself completely to him.

“You look delicious like this, Doll,” he said, gazing down at you affectionately as his hands played idly with your breasts, rolling your nipples between his fingers as he saw fit.

You whimpered at his touch, rolling your hips closer to him. “Please,” you begged, frustrated that you couldn’t move closer.

“Please what, pet? Use your words,” he said darkly as he teased your nipples and ran the shaft of his cock gently between your folds, stopping just before he hit your clit each time.

“Please fuck me, Master. I need your cock. Want you deep inside of me. Need you to fill me up,” you begged, biting back a moan as he pinched and rolled your nipples.

“That’s a good girl,” he praised as he leaned down to kiss you messily. His kiss was like a drug, serving only to turn you on more; your body getting even hotter by the second.

He broke the kiss, sitting up as he lined himself up at your entrance. He watched your reaction as he slowly pushed into you, stretching your walls with his thick cock. You both let out a moan when he bottomed out inside of you, his tip gently brushing against your cervix.

He let you adjust to him, a sigh of relief escaping his lips; he loved being inside of you as much as you did. The pace he set at first was torturous. Each thrust was shallow, hitting you on your most sensitive spot each time. His hands gripped the backs of your thighs hard enough to bruise; a testament to how hard it was for him to control his pace.

“Please, Master. Harder. Fuck me harder,” you begged pathetically, your voice a breathy whine.

His eyes flicked black and you knew his self control was shot. A second later his pace quickened.  His hips slammed into yours and you felt yourself inching up the bed, moans of pure ecstasy escaping your lips. One of his hands left your thigh and wrapped itself around your neck, cutting off some of your air circulation. You gasped, lungs screaming for air, body on fire at his show of dominance.

There was something almost desperate about his movements this time. Usually he was utterly in control, working every ounce of pleasure from your body, but today he was an uncaged animal, wreaking havoc on your poor, thoroughly-fucked body. You loved it.

He leaned over you, hooking his free arm under one of your legs and drove himself into you, reducing you to a moaning, gasping mess.

“Fuck, baby. You’re so wet,” he groaned, leaning down to take a nipple between his teeth. Your back arched at the feeling, a strangled, raspy cry leaving your lips. “You’re mine,” he growled, hot breath tickling your skin. His eyes flicked black and you felt a thrill of excitement go down your spine at the sight. His hand loosened its grip on your neck slightly. “Say it,” he ordered, face inches from yours as he pounded relentlessly into you.

“I’m yours, Master. Fuck, I’m yours,” you moaned. You could sense his agitation and you said everything you could to sooth him. “Always be yours, Bucky,” you groaned, using his nickname. It was a risk; he normally didn’t allow it in the bedroom, but you needed him to know that you belonged to him, body and soul.

However, it made his eyes flick back to their steel blue, and he leaned down to kiss you fiercely, hand disappearing between your legs to rub circles into your clit.

He broke the kiss, face inches from yours, and the two of you were so close you breathed the same air. “Cum for me, Doll,” he ordered, changing the angle he was fucking you at so that each time he plowed into you it hit that special spot.

“Master, oh fuck, James!” you moaned, orgasm rolling through you like a raging fire. Your walls clamped down on his cock, practically begging him to release inside of you.

You didn’t have to wait long, he buried his face in your neck, and you felt more than heard the deep groans that escaped his lips as he chased his own release inside of you. His hips snapped into yours frantically, pace erratic, until at last he fell over the edge, helped along by your own orgasm. “Oh yeah, Babydoll. Fuck I love cumming inside of you,” he groaned filthily into your ear.

He stilled inside of you, his cock twitching as his cum filled your greedy pussy. As the vestiges of your orgasm faded, your walls fluttered around him, your pussy eagerly milking him of every last drop of his seed.

Instead of pulling out he untied you and undid the handcuffs before he collapsed on top of you (though he was careful not to crush you beneath him).

You cupped his cheek in your hand, caressing it gently with your thumb. “I meant it, you know,” you said quietly, gaze locking with his.

“Hmm?” he hummed, blue eyes searching your face, clearly playing dumb. His ghosted over your skin, reveling in the feel of you beneath him.

“I’m yours, Bucky. And I always will be. I love you,” you murmured, the words slipping out before you could stop them. Once they were out there, though, you realized you didn’t regret them.

He looked shocked, eyes widening slightly. “You-” his words died in his throat.

“Yeah,” you said, nodding slightly, small smile on your lips.

He looked at you as though you were the most beautiful thing in existence. A small chuckle left his lips and he leaned down to kiss you.

The tenderness of the kiss took your breath away; his kisses were normally like a wildfire; all-consuming and frenzied. But this was the warmth of a hearth fire; passionate, caring, and felt undeniably like home.

“Do you trust me, Doll?” he asked, blue eyes searching yours warily.

“You know I do, Bucky,” you said earnestly as you carded your fingers through his hair, causing him to lean into your touch.

“Then I need you to do something for me,” he said determinedly, gaze once again tempestuous. You nodded; you’d do whatever he needed of you without a second thought.

 Steve’s POV

It had taken Wanda a while to find where Bucky was hiding you; Bucharest, Romania of all places.

Steve opened the door silently, listening for any signs of you or Bucky. He hadn’t seen his friend often since the fall, but every time he had Bucky had been surrounded by men and women alike, all eager to please the sex demon.

It seemed Wanda and the rumors had been right; Bucky had only been with you as of late.

He prowled the house cautiously, but each new room he entered turned up empty.

That is, until he got to the bedroom. He heard hushed voices from his spot in the hallway and crept forward, glancing into the room.

What he saw made his eyes bug out and cheeks turn red for two reasons. One, you and Bucky were completely naked and even from his quick glance he could see the semen leaking out between your legs. Two, his face was buried in your neck and his wrist was at your lips.

It only took him a second to figure out what was going on.

“No!” Steve yelled, barging into the room.

Bucky’s head snapped up and his gaze turned to Steve, eyes instantly going pure black. Blood dribbled down his chin as he bared his teeth in a feral snarl that had your and Steve’s blood turning cold. He removed his wrist from your mouth and the wound he’d caused himself closed over; You wiped his blood from your lips self consciously.

“Too late, punk,” Bucky said scathingly. He stood, pulling the blanket over you as he went. He snapped his fingers and a black suit appeared on his body. He moved between you and Steve protectively, not backing down at the taller man’s glare.

“How could you, Buck!? You know what a blood pact means!” Steve said, gesturing between you and Bucky helplessly.

“You were going to take us away from each other. Couldn’t have that happen,” Bucky said matter-of-factly.

“You’re killing each other, Bucky!” Steve yelled in exasperation.

Your brows furrowed at that; that wasn’t true, was it? You had been feeling weaker lately, but attributed it to the exhausting nearly non-stop sex you and Bucky had been having. Bucky… Bucky didn’t seem to be getting any weaker, right?

“And now you’ll kill us if you separate us,” Bucky said as he crossed his arms, smirk gracing his beautiful face.

“Damn it, Bucky! I’m just trying to help you!” Steve yelled.

Bucky’s gaze hardened, and for a second his eyes flashed their usual grey-blue.

“Well, I don’t need your help, Steve. Now, get out of my house,” Bucky said. You stood in awe as his black wings unfurled, nearly touching the walls of the bedroom.

Steve took a half step back, startled. “Bucky-”

“Out!” Bucky bellowed, taking a menacing step towards Steve.

Steve’s jaw clenched and unclenched and he glanced warily between the door, Bucky, and you. Bucky’s wings moved so you were hidden from Steve’s view, and Steve’s gaze shifted back to Bucky.

“This isn’t over, Buck,” Steve said, glaring at his friend.

“Yes, it is,” Bucky said ominously. A second later, Steve was rocketed towards the door by some unseen force. The second his body passed through the doorway, the door shut behind him and the lock clicked into a place with a resounding snap.

He turned to look at you, wings extended as far as they would go, his gaze affectionate.

“Now, Doll. Where were we?”

[dfroza]

in the beginning of Creation

of beautiful earth as a universal garden of seeds, God made us in His image, as male & female, given the ability to become as “One” body.

there is an eternal aspect of marriage that comes from the Heart of God, even though people in this world don’t always respect its bond. this world holds a broken and severed heart, divorced and at war with its pure genesis.

this is a point that is illuminated in Today’s reading of chapter 10 in the book of Mark:

From there he went to the area of Judea across the Jordan. A crowd of people, as was so often the case, went along, and he, as he so often did, taught them. Pharisees came up, intending to give him a hard time. They asked, “Is it legal for a man to divorce his wife?”

Jesus said, “What did Moses command?”

They answered, “Moses gave permission to fill out a certificate of dismissal and divorce her.”

Jesus said, “Moses wrote this command only as a concession to your hardhearted ways. In the original creation, God made male and female to be together. Because of this, a man leaves father and mother, and in marriage he becomes one flesh with a woman—no longer two individuals, but forming a new unity. Because God created this organic union of the two sexes, no one should desecrate his art by cutting them apart.”

When they were back home, the disciples brought it up again. Jesus gave it to them straight: “A man who divorces his wife so he can marry someone else commits adultery against her. And a woman who divorces her husband so she can marry someone else commits adultery.”

The people brought children to Jesus, hoping he might touch them. The disciples shooed them off. But Jesus was irate and let them know it: “Don’t push these children away. Don’t ever get between them and me. These children are at the very center of life in the kingdom. Mark this: Unless you accept God’s kingdom in the simplicity of a child, you’ll never get in.” Then, gathering the children up in his arms, he laid his hands of blessing on them.

[To Enter God’s Kingdom]

As he went out into the street, a man came running up, greeted him with great reverence, and asked, “Good Teacher, what must I do to get eternal life?”

Jesus said, “Why are you calling me good? No one is good, only God. You know the commandments: Don’t murder, don’t commit adultery, don’t steal, don’t lie, don’t cheat, honor your father and mother.”

He said, “Teacher, I have—from my youth—kept them all!”

Jesus looked him hard in the eye—and loved him! He said, “There’s one thing left: Go sell whatever you own and give it to the poor. All your wealth will then be heavenly wealth. And come follow me.”

The man’s face clouded over. This was the last thing he expected to hear, and he walked off with a heavy heart. He was holding on tight to a lot of things, and not about to let go.

Looking at his disciples, Jesus said, “Do you have any idea how difficult it is for people who ‘have it all’ to enter God’s kingdom?” The disciples couldn’t believe what they were hearing, but Jesus kept on: “You can’t imagine how difficult. I’d say it’s easier for a camel to go through a needle’s eye than for the rich to get into God’s kingdom.”

That set the disciples back on their heels. “Then who has any chance at all?” they asked.

Jesus was blunt: “No chance at all if you think you can pull it off by yourself. Every chance in the world if you let God do it.”

Peter tried another angle: “We left everything and followed you.”

Jesus said, “Mark my words, no one who sacrifices house, brothers, sisters, mother, father, children, land—whatever—because of me and the Message will lose out. They’ll get it all back, but multiplied many times in homes, brothers, sisters, mothers, children, and land—but also in troubles. And then the bonus of eternal life! This is once again the Great Reversal: Many who are first will end up last, and the last first.”

Back on the road, they set out for Jerusalem. Jesus had a head start on them, and they were following, puzzled and not just a little afraid. He took the Twelve and began again to go over what to expect next. “Listen to me carefully. We’re on our way up to Jerusalem. When we get there, the Son of Man will be betrayed to the religious leaders and scholars. They will sentence him to death. Then they will hand him over to the Romans, who will mock and spit on him, give him the third degree, and kill him. After three days he will rise alive.”

[The Highest Places of Honor]

James and John, Zebedee’s sons, came up to him. “Teacher, we have something we want you to do for us.”

“What is it? I’ll see what I can do.”

“Arrange it,” they said, “so that we will be awarded the highest places of honor in your glory—one of us at your right, the other at your left.”

Jesus said, “You have no idea what you’re asking. Are you capable of drinking the cup I drink, of being baptized in the baptism I’m about to be plunged into?”

“Sure,” they said. “Why not?”

Jesus said, “Come to think of it, you will drink the cup I drink, and be baptized in my baptism. But as to awarding places of honor, that’s not my business. There are other arrangements for that.”

When the other ten heard of this conversation, they lost their tempers with James and John. Jesus got them together to settle things down. “You’ve observed how godless rulers throw their weight around,” he said, “and when people get a little power how quickly it goes to their heads. It’s not going to be that way with you. Whoever wants to be great must become a servant. Whoever wants to be first among you must be your slave. That is what the Son of Man has done: He came to serve, not to be served—and then to give away his life in exchange for many who are held hostage.”

They spent some time in Jericho. As Jesus was leaving town, trailed by his disciples and a parade of people, a blind beggar by the name of Bartimaeus, son of Timaeus, was sitting alongside the road. When he heard that Jesus the Nazarene was passing by, he began to cry out, “Son of David, Jesus! Mercy, have mercy on me!” Many tried to hush him up, but he yelled all the louder, “Son of David! Mercy, have mercy on me!”

Jesus stopped in his tracks. “Call him over.”

They called him. “It’s your lucky day! Get up! He’s calling you to come!” Throwing off his coat, he was on his feet at once and came to Jesus.

Jesus said, “What can I do for you?”

The blind man said, “Rabbi, I want to see.”

“On your way,” said Jesus. “Your faith has saved and healed you.”

In that very instant he recovered his sight and followed Jesus down the road.

The Book of Mark, Chapter 10 (The Message)

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments with Mark 10 is chapter 25 in the book of Deuteronomy with Moses continuing to give instructions to the Israelites under the strict terms of the old covenant before the grace of the Son was revealed (who came not to abolish but to truly fulfill the law of God) and to set us free from the power of death)

[Deuteronomy 25]

Moses: If two people have a dispute and bring it to court, the judges there will decide the case and declare which one is innocent and which one is guilty. If the judges decide the guilty party should be punished with a beating, the judge will make him lie down and be beaten in front of the judge with the number of strokes appropriate to the evil offense—but it can never be more than 40. This limit is to prevent excessive beatings, which would be publicly degrading.

Don’t muzzle the ox while it is treading out your grain.

When two brothers are living together, sharing family property that hasn’t been divided, if one of them dies leaving a widow without sons, his widow must not be married to a man outside the family. The brother should marry his sister-in-law and try to have children with her in his brother’s name.

Moses: Her firstborn son will be named after the brother who died, so that the first husband’s name will not disappear from Israel and that son will receive his share of the family inheritance. If a man doesn’t want to marry his brother’s widow, she should go to the elders at the city gate and make a formal complaint: “My husband died, and his brother refuses to keep his name alive in Israel. He won’t marry me and give me children!” The elders of his city will send for him and try to persuade him. He may resist and say, “I don’t want to marry her!” In that case, the widow will come up to him, with the elders looking on, and pull one of his sandals off his foot, spit in his face, and then say, “If a man won’t make sure his brother’s family line continues, he deserves this kind of disgrace for not continuing his brother’s house!” From then on, throughout Israel, his family will be known as “the house with the missing sandal,” and they’ll all be disgraced.

If two Israelites are fighting, and one man’s wife comes to help her husband because he’s getting beaten, if she grabs the other man by the genitals, she has disrespected his source of procreative power. Cut her hand off; don’t show any pity!

Don’t keep two different weighing stones in your bag, a heavy one for when you want to weigh out full value and a light one for when you want to try to cheat someone. Don’t keep two different measuring containers in your house, a large one for when you want to measure out full value and a small one for when you want to try to cheat someone. Your weighing stone must be a full and fair weight, and your measuring container must be a full and fair size. That way you will live a long time on the ground the Eternal your God is giving to you, because the Eternal your God is horrified by anyone who is so unjust as to cheat other people in weights or measures.

Remember what the Amalekites did to you as you were coming out of Egypt? They found you on the road when you were all worn out, and they attacked those who had fallen behind and were isolated and defenseless. They showed no fear of God. When you’re in a position to punish them for this, when all of your other enemies are defeated and you’re living peacefully in the land that the Eternal your God is giving you to live in, then wipe out every trace of the Amalekites under the sky. Don’t forget!

The Book of Deuteronomy, Chapter 25 (The Voice)

my personal reading of the Scriptures for Thursday, july 23 of 2020 with a paired chapter from each Testament along with Today’s Psalms and Proverbs