#my muse for him only comes in spurts

[moonlight-prose]

old man logan thoughts & musings

a/n: idk what this is. i'm supposed to be working on my fics, but this hit me so hard i felt like i got punched. so i kinda had to share it. the way i want to eat this man alive scares me.

warnings: 18+ only please! um...feral old man logan, squirting, he loses his mind.

Old man!Logan who can't go at it the way he once did. But is still adamant on making you finish however you want. Who takes orders a little better, follows your lead without issue. Who wants to be good for you with an equal amount of fervor that you are for him.

Old man!Logan who has been lapping at your pussy for near an hour. Pulling climax after climax out of your weak body. Yet begs you for one more. For another gush of your slick to pour into his mouth like ambrosia once did for the gods.

Old man!Logan who's been rutting into the mattress, his jeans undone and cock out. He couldn't exactly pinpoint when he started leaking like a fucking faucet. Sometime between the couch, the wall, and the bed. Who is desperate to fuck you, but the bed feels so good and his mind has gone hazy.

Old man!Logan who cums with a muffled shout at the exact time you squirt in his open and waiting mouth. He's so far gone he can't even feel ashamed. Rutting his hips into the soft bed with pained grunts of your name. His fingers pounding into your soaked pussy, until a puddle begins to form on the covers. Your screams is loud enough to rattle the walls - his are pathetic enough to make him blush crimson.

Old man!Logan who apologizes profusely with kisses lined in your cum. Pressing I'm sorry baby I'll fuck you in the morning against your temple. Laving That's never happened to me before. Tastes so fuckin' good I lost my head against your peaked nipple. Later in the morning he'll be embarrassed for spurting so hard against the mattress he swore he saw God in your pussy.

Old man!Logan who passes out without nightmares as you clean him up with your tongue. Come daytime he'll be hard again, willing to pound you into the filthy bed so hard the frame snaps. But finds his mind is never so at ease when he has you like this.

note: please don't look at me. i am so feral for him it's driving me insane actually.

[fairy-angel222]

𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐩 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𐙚⋆.˚

You'd been such a bad girl for him, so bratty and rude. No punishment would be fit enough than tying your hands and legs together and making you sit on a couch near the bed.

Your eyes watery as you whimpered desperately into the pair of panties stuffed between your lips. Trying to rub your thighs together for any kind of friction to your aching clit.

Geto only smirked, tangling his fingers into Gojo's hair before lifting the moaning man to face you. Gojo's eyes filled with pleasure filled tears as they met yours.

His back arching deeply as Geto hammered roughly into his ass.

"This could've been both of you baby." Geto groaned. "Ya couldn't been getting fucked this good if you weren't such a brat." He spat.

Your pleas were muffled by the drool filled fabric, your wetness dripping lewdly onto your thighs and the chair below you. Rutting your hips back and forth in an attempt to feel something, anything, on your throbbing clit.

Gojo let out a cry, his body trembling as Geto held his back flush on his chest. His hand wrapping around the white haired man's neck with a deep grunt. "Such a good boy f' me Satoru." Gojo's eyes rolling back with a mewl. "Such a good fucking boy. Taking me so well."

You watched as Gojo neared his orgasm, Geto reaching forward to stroke at his sensitive cock. Gojo unable to help the loud moans and whimpers leaving his mouth as his pleasure doubled, body trembling as he experienced the most mind blowing orgasm.

Something that you could’ve gotten too.

"Look at her when you cum." Geto growled lowly, his own cock twitching as he whispered into Gojo's ear. Hard thrusts lewd and sloppy as he forced the white haired man to keep eye contact with you.

"Ahh- Suguruu," Gojo cried out, his abs tensing as his voice cracked, coming undone with a high pitched moan. Thick spurts of his cum spilling into the air in front of him with a shiver.

Geto hummed, spilling deep into Gojo with his eyes on you and a smirk on his face. Chuckling darkly at the pouty glare you attempted to give him. "Listen baby, if Satoru manages to fuck you properly while i fuck him, then you can cum." He suggests.

And you nodded eagerly, your pussy aching with need at the idea of getting stuffed. Gojo panted heavily, whimpering when Geto pulled out of him to go untie you. Feeling the man's cum leaking out of him and onto the sheets, some of it running messily down his thighs.

"You're so mean Sugu." you mumbled when you were untied, Geto's fingers under your chin lifting your head to look up at him. "Don't make me change my mind."

You whimpered in protest. "N-no wait! ‘M sorry, I'll be a good girl i promise."

"Good."

You quickly found yourself being shoved onto your hands and knees, Gojo fucking into you while Geto fucked into him. The dark haired man controlling the pace and rhythm with his harsh thrusts.

You and Gojo were so noisy. Your whiny moans echoing in the room as you were both fucked dumb. Gojo's cock prodding at your g spot as it pierced deep into you. His hips slamming roughly into you each time Geto mercilessly drilled into his ass. Fat cock kissing his prostate repeatedly.

You let out a loud cry, Gojo's grip on your hips tightening as a string of mewls fell past your lips. The stimulation on both ends driving him crazy as he let Geto do all the work, practically fucking him in and out of you.

"Look at you two. Two dumb little cock sluts f' me aren't ya?" Geto mused, enjoying the way you were both falling apart under him. "So fucking pretty, both of you." he groaned. Rolling his hips to hit Gojo's prostate meanly, making the man let out a broken cry. His breathing getting heavy as his legs shook under him. You clenching down on his cock so tightly not making his situation any better.

"Suguru— nngh— Satoru, s-so go-odd," you moaned, your back arching as your vision blurred, drowning out Gojo's cries and Geto's groans as your head became fuzzy. Your lips parting in a string of short screams as you got closer and closer to the edge.

"Nngh— 'm gonna cum. O-oh fuck- ahhh, 'm gonna cum," you babbled shakily.

"Ahh, me t-too— nngh." Gojo voiced, his head falling back onto Geto's shoulder while your hands went limp under you. Your cheek pressed into the sheets making him reach so much deeper. Cock grazing your g spot all the more sweeter.

"Shit— both of you are doing so well. Moaning so damn sluttily- fuck, let it out sweethearts.. that's it." Geto encouraged. Both you and Gojo shaking uncontrollably as you came. Gojo painting your walls white as you moaned, pussy squirting messily onto his cock.

"Get down on your knees f'me." Geto gritted out, you and Gojo complying despite your panting state, both of you attempting to calm the rise and fall of your chests. Kneeling next to each other on the floor for Geto to begin stroking his cock.

"My pretty little sluts," he groaned, "so fucking p-perfect." Fisting his cock till his cum coated both your pretty faces. Swallowing hard when you two took the other’s lips on your own. Sloppily swapping his cum from one mouth to another as you whimpered.

You and Gojo holding onto each other tightly as you both rutted your hips, soft moans filling the room when you took turns licking at each other’s lips. All the blood rushing right back to Geto’s cock as he watched you two make out.

“Looks like we’re far from finished huh?” A grin gracing his face when you both looked up at him through still wet lashes.

[kitten4sannie]

ʙʀᴏᴋᴇɴ ɪɴ

ᴅᴇᴇᴘᴛʜʀᴏᴀᴛ/ᴅᴀᴄʀʏᴘʜɪʟɪᴀ ➠ ʏᴜɴʜᴏ

pairing: bf! yunho x fem! reader

genre: smut

summary: your boyfriend has a surprise for you.

w.c: 2.7k

warnings: hard dom! yunho, sub! reader, big dick yunnie, mc and yunho are both perverts here <3, sexting, brief implied voyeurism/exhibitionism, masturbation, yunnie wears a balaclava ^^ so mask kink!!, cnc roleplay, glove kink?? idk, name calling, pet names, praise, degradation, dirty talk, fingering, oral (giving/receiving), fingering, squirting, deep-throating, choking, breath play, throatpie

a/n: you can’t tell me that the guy in the banner doesn’t look like yunho hehe. so yeah this is one of my top fantasies and i almost lost my goddamn mind during the writing process >< enjoy my loves!!!

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ᴍᴀꜱᴄᴀʀᴀ ʙʏ ᴅᴇꜰᴛᴏɴᴇꜱ

0:01 ❍─────── 4:28

Volume: ▁▂▃▄▅▆▇ 100%

ᴘʀᴇᴠ | ꜰꜰꜰ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ

After work one night, you found yourself coming home to a dark, empty house, not finding your boyfriend on the couch playing one of his favorite video games, which was unusual. The only thing that accompanied the silence was the occasional booming clap of thunder, millions of rain droplets hitting the roof of your house, flashes of lightning temporarily brightening up your living room through the sliding glass windows.

You took off your shoes and settled into the couch, turning on the TV to unwind. A few minutes passed, allowing you to fully relax, feeling your eyes grow heavy the longer you listened to the almost hypnotic sound of heavy rainfall. It wasn’t until your phone vibrated that you snapped out of it. You pulled your phone out of your pocket just in time to see the screen light up with a new message from your boyfriend. 

ɪ’ʟʟ ʙᴇ ʜᴏᴍᴇ ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴛᴏɴɪɢʜᴛ ʙᴀʙʏ. ɢᴏᴛ ᴄᴀᴜɢʜᴛ ᴜᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ꜰᴜɴ ^^  ɪᴛ’ꜱ ᴀ ꜱᴜʀᴘʀɪꜱᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ ♡ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴛɪᴅᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ♡

ɪᴍᴀɢᴇ.ᴘɴɢ

Yunho had sent you a photo of himself inside a stall at his workplace bathroom, his pants pooled around his hips, his belt splayed open, one of his hands pulling the lip of his boxers down enough so that he could comfortably hold his hard, heavy cock, clear drops of pre-cum visibly dripping down along the sizable vein that led from his reddened cockhead to his balls. 

Fuck. So much for falling asleep. Now, you were wired. And was Yunho referring to that surprise? If he was, then you had a lot to be looking forward to that night. 

The image of Yunho holding his leaking cock stuck inside your mind like glue as you sifted through your toy collection inside your bedroom, trying to find something that would satiate the ache you felt in between your legs. Before you knew it, you had managed to grab your favorite toy. “Gotcha, bitch,” you mused to yourself, pulling out the clone-a-cock your boyfriend had bought for you. He filled the mold himself and everything, awarding you with a thick, nine inch suction-cup replica of his cock that you could use to fuck yourself dumb with whenever he wasn’t around. And there was no time better than the present. 

Once you threw on one of Yunho’s oversized t-shirts and a simple pair of panties, you made your way back into the living room, dildo and lube in hand, and a big perverted smile on your face. You stuck the dildo directly onto the glass of the sliding door, gazing past the streaks of rain and staring at the trees and foliage that lined your backyard. You could’ve sworn you saw something shuffling around inside one of the bushes, squinting your eyes a bit more, when your phone vibrated again. 

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍɪꜱꜱ ᴍᴇ ʙᴀʙʏ? ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪꜱʜ ɪ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜ ʀɴ? ᴡɪꜱʜ ᴍʏ ᴄᴏᴄᴋ ᴡᴀꜱ ɪɴꜱɪᴅᴇ ʏᴏᴜ?

ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ.ᴍᴘ3

Instead of a still image, Yunho provided you with a ninety second clip of him spitting into his hand and vigorously jerking himself off inside the stall, panting harshly into the mic, groaning out, “Y/N, fuck, babyyy,” until his words morphed into small, staccato moans, his hand squeezing around his cockhead just as spurts of liquid shot out and landed on his phone, creating a milky film over the camera lens before the clip ended. 

It seemed like Yunho was trying to drive you insane on purpose. Was that video your surprise? What else did you have to look forward to? The anticipation of what was to come filled you with adrenaline, lust, and clear desperation, already finding yourself with two hands around the long dildo that was hanging off of the glass, lubing it up with the water based warming gel you had previously squirted into your hands. Without wasting another second, you positioned yourself on your knees away from the window and pulled your shorts to the side, before you pushed back onto the thick silicone cock, moaning out as it filled you up. 

You fucked yourself to your heart’s content, driving yourself back over and over again, wishing you were getting pounded by your boyfriend, knowing he would manipulate your body like a doll’s to get you in the positon he wanted to fuck your brains out in. It felt so good to get filled up, you almost forgot to return Yunho’s message with a video of your own, one that showcased the way your cunt swallowed the toy as you rammed yourself back onto it, your hooded eyes gazing at the camera, your mouth forming an ‘o’, Yunho’s name gracing your lips. You hit send and dropped your phone onto the carpet to concentrate on reaching your high. 

Just as you were about to cum, a sudden flash of white went across your dark living room, causing your heart to stop momentarily. Something inside you told you that it wasn’t just a sudden bout of lightning, though the logical side of you told you otherwise. Either way, the build up of your orgasm began to fade away, encouraging you to slide off of the dripping dildo and check your phone, realizing you got a text from Yunho. 

ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴠɪᴅ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ɪꜱ ᴍᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴄᴏᴄᴋ ᴛʜʀᴏʙ ʙᴀʙʏ ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴅᴍɪᴛ

ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴠɪᴇᴡ ♡

ɪᴍᴀɢᴇ.ᴘɴɢ 

Your heart skipped one too many beats as your trembling fingers opened the image, seeing a voyeur’s view of your solo sexcapades in action, the flash clearly on due to the bright reflection in the window inside the 4K photo. Was this the surprise Yunho was talking about? Was he outside all along, getting off on you pleasuring yourself with what was supposed to be his cock? 

It was then that you heard a soft knocking sound coming from the other side of the sliding door. Your eyes darted up, seeing the dark outline of a tall man standing on the opposite side of the glass, just a foot away from you. What was even more frighteningly arousing was that the man was faceless, wearing a balaclava to hide his identity. 

You screamed instinctively, dropping your phone, unable to get up from the floor from how shocked you were, especially once the glass door began to slide open, the sound of rainfall even louder than before, the cold night air sending a slew of chill bumps across your exposed flesh. 

“Surprise, baby, I’m breaking in,” Yunho said in a low, almost melodic tone, one that he only used when he was in a special headspace, one that you mutually enjoyed. “I’m tired of seeing you play with your pussy like that. I want in.” 

“Go away! G-get out of here!” you yelled out, playing the part, your pulse quickening as you reached for a throw pillow that was sitting on the couch and tossed it at Yunho, doing your best to get up and get away from him. 

You barely made it to the hallway when Yunho grabbed you by the hair and pushed your head and chest into the wall, pressing himself against your ass, allowing you to feel just how hard he was underneath his damp joggers. “I-i can feel how hard you are…It’s disgusting…” 

Yunho groaned at your mean words, slowly rubbing his cock against the curve of your ass, chuckling at the way you automatically arched your back. “Now, now. Don’t pretend you’re not soaking wet for me, little slut. Your little body’s just begging me to use it.” He squeezed your tits through your shirt, making you jolt. 

“No, don’t touch me there,” you whined pathetically, arching more into his touch. 

Yunho nuzzled his face into your neck, taking a deep inhale of your warm, flowery scent, letting out a low ‘mmm’ onto your skin. “But, baby, you’re just asking to be touched when you wear something this thin, you know? Just look at the way it’s showing off your cute little tits. Shows just how needy you are,” he mused huskily into your ear, reaching around your body to grope at your tits through your oversized t-shirt, rubbing your nipples in slow, teasing circles, occasionally squeezing them roughly, feeling them harden up underneath his gloved finger tips, eliciting an unmistakable moan from you. “Oh, that’s it, huh? Like it rough, baby?”  

“Sh-shut up…” you whispered, melting into him the longer he groped and pulled at your tits, feeling his cock throb periodically against your ass, his hands slowly moving down your abdomen to your hips, then down to your inner thighs, his fingers ghosting over your bare pussy through your sleep shorts. 

“Mm, you wouldn’t be showing off this cute little cunt of yours if you didn’t want someone like me to play with it, either. If you didn’t want to be violated like this…” Yunho continued, appearing to breathe a little harder than before, rubbing your clit up and down, your shorts so nonexistent that his fingers found your plump, wet folds, the both of you able to hear how slick you were. “Jesus, you’re so fucking wet, baby. You like that I’m taking what I want?” 

“N-no…” you lied in a soft, breathy voice, your cheek smushed against the wall from the way Yunho had you pinned against it, suddenly finding yourself being spun around so that you had to face the masked man, just as he slipped two long, gloved fingers into your cunt up to the knuckle, Yunho parting his lips just as you did, moaning along with you once he began to roughly finger-fuck you. 

“Oh, baby, you’re such a bad liar…I can feel your pretty cunt squeezing hard around my fingers…Must feel good to be filled like this after trying so hard to cum around a fake cock. You must be aching for the real thing, aren’t you, Y/N?” 

“P-pleaseee…stop…” It was when Yunho curled his thrusting fingers that you tossed your head back against the wall, your thighs squeezing together. Yunho forced his knee in between them to keep them open, causing more slick to drip down his veiny forearm and onto the wood floor below. 

“Aww, you’re so cute when you think you’re in control,” Yunho sighed out, slowly lowering himself to his knees, not ceasing the violent movement of his squelching fingers for even a second. Your garbled little ‘mm-hmm’ made Yunho chuckle, lifting the bottom of his balaclava to expose the lower half of his face, bringing his nose to your clit, bumping it lightly against it as he inhaled your scent, lapping up the heavy wetness that dripped down your slit. “Mm, is my dirty little slut going to cum on my face?” 

“Y-eesssss…” As soon as Yunho slipped a third finger inside your cunt and stretched you out, your eyes rolled back, your body jolting against the wall, a spray of arousal shooting out of you and coating the bottom of Yunho’s partially masked face. He caught your squirt on his lips and tongue, moaning just from tasting your abundant arousal. 

“Good girl, that’s such a good girl,” Yunho praised you breathily, slipping his fingers out of you and spreading you open with his thumbs instead, so that he could noisily slurp your juices down his parched throat. 

Whining, you held his head down, pulling the balaclava off in the process to see his flushed, pretty face in its entirety, his soaked hair clinging to his forehead. “Feels so good, Yunnie…” you sighed, completely blissed out, rubbing your cunt along his lips and tongue once he stuck it out. 

“A-aaaah, such a naughty girl,” Yunho said with his mouth full, tonguing your cunt the best he could, using his fingers to rub your stiff clit in harsh circles until another wave of clear liquid splashed onto his face, some of it dripping along his bobbing throat, drinking down your arousal like he needed it to live. “Fucking hell, baby, I’m so hard right now…”

“Give me your cock, Yunho. I need it right now. Please,” you begged your boyfriend, who was still leaving licks and kisses over your pulsing cunt. 

Yunho eventually stood up, giving his lips a good lick, bringing his hands up around your head, slowly pushing you down until you were on your knees before him, your head pressed into the wall. “I’ll give you my cock, baby…Give it to you nice and deep…” 

 You watched with wide eyes as Yunho lowered his joggers and pulled out his leaking cock, catching the heavy tip on your tongue when he slapped it down. “In my throat?” you whispered, reaching up to place your hands on his slender hips. 

“Good girl,” Yunho praised, patting you on the head, before clutching it tightly with one hand, rubbing his cockhead around your face and lips, leaving a taste of bitter pre-cum on your lips.  “Since I made you cum that hard, I deserve to fuck your tight little throat just as hard and leave you with a tummy full of cum, don’t I? It’s only fair.” 

“I don’t swallow,” you lied, shaking your head, delighted by the way Yunho opened your jaw with his free hand and force fed you his oversized cock until your mouth was fully stuffed. 

“You’re gonna learn to swallow today, little slut. Now take my cock,” Yunho chuckled darkly, creating a makeshift ponytail around his fist, before he expertly sent his hips forward, driving his heavy cock into your mouth and down your willing throat. 

You moaned and gurgled on his rapidly moving cock, your throat making a new, much more obscene sound the longer he drove your face into his pelvis, his pubic hair tickling the tip of your nose, tears forming inside your eyes. “Mmmnnnn…”

“Oh my god, are you crying just for me, princess?” Yunho suddenly groaned, his cock pulsing inside your bulging throat, tugging roughly at your hair, keeping you pinned against the wall, only allowing you to take exactly what he decided to give you, which, this time, was a brutal throat fuck. “Why are you crying, baby? Cuz’ my cock’s down your throat? Does it feel that good?” 

All you could was let out choked, muddled moans, your hands squeezing into Yunho’s moving hips, your mind positively blank, the only thing you could focus on in the moment was one of Yunho’s gloved hands expertly wrapping around your throat to diminish your airways, leaving you pleasantly dizzy, your eyes rolling upwards. 

“I know how much my pretty girl loves to be choked. Wanna choke on my cum next?” your boyfriend mused softly, in between pants, smiling fondly down at you, a few drops of either sweat or rain landing on your face below, rubbing your tears away from your watery eyes, smearing your mascara down your cheek bones until Yunho’s hips began to stutter, more thick globs of pre-cum leaking down your throat. “Fuck, here it comes, it’s all for you, baby…”

Just as you began to swallow the obscene load of cum down your throat, Yunho pinched your nose, leading you to look up at him, more tears escaping your eyes, beginning to choke. 

“You can do it, baby…Go on and swallow for me…” Yunho whispered under his breath, clearly getting off on the way you struggled to breath with his load pouring into your raw throat. 

With your heart and cunt pounding incessantly, you gulped down the rest of your boyfriend’s load without hesitation, a few coughs bubbling out of you once Yunho let you go. “Holy fuck…” you exhaled, your gravelly voice proof of how you had been used. 

“Was that everything you dreamed of, my love?” Yunho asked softly, taking his soiled gloves off to caress your cheek lovingly, idly pushing a few strands of hair behind your ear.

“Yeah,” you replied instantly, nuzzling into his head, looking up at him with your big doe eyes. “Though…I need one more thing.” 

Yunho gave you a sweet smile, gently rubbing his thumb along your cheek. “What’s that, princess?” 

You pouted a bit. “Your cock. I wanna be fucked raw, Yunnie…” 

“I hear you, princess.” And with that, Yunho picked you up and hoisted you over his shoulder, making you squeak with delight, giving your ass a good squeeze on the way to your bedroom.  

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© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

DUFF AND IZZY WITH FEM READER ROUGH SEX. I'M TALKING BACK BLOWN OUT BY THESE TWO

Warnings: Smut, threesome, oral (f + m receiving), double penetration, fingering (f receiving), if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

It was known that Guns shared groupies all the time, and you were no exception.

They'd seen you in the crowd at one of their shows, you kept catching them eyeing you while whispering amongst themselves. Eventually Duff came right up to the front of the stage between songs while Axl was talking about something or other.

He leaned down, tapping securities shoulder to get the mans attention. You couldn't hear what he said but he pointed to you and you could only assume what that meant.

At the end of the show when people started leaving the stadium you were led backstage into one of the room. Duff and Izzy were on the couch, talking when you walked in but their heads snapped to you when you entered.

The look in their eyes said it all and you got on your knees in front of them.

"Oh, look at that." Duff mused, tilting your head up with two fingers under your chin. "We didn't even tell you to do that."

"Eager cockwhore." Izzy grinned, lighting a cigarette. He pat his thigh and you scooted closer to him.

You fumbled with his jeans and pulled his hard dick out of its confines, quickly taking him into your mouth. He was thick and heavy on your tongue, thick hair at his base leading up his abdomen.

Duff took your hair in his hand with a harsh grip, tugging your head back. "Playing favourites, are we?" You shook your head and tried to move closer to him. Izzy tapped your knee with his boot, catching your attention and stopping you.

"Come on, we pulled her out of the crowd, for all we know she's got a family she needs to get back to." Izzy said, pushing his boot to you and grinding it against you. "Gotta treat her like a proper guest."

Duff stood up and pushed his jeans down, his cock slapping you in the face. Your eyes practically bugged out of your head at the length, fuck, he was huge! And you'd already been worried about Izzy.

"Guess I could share." Duff smiled down at you, guiding your head to came him down your throat.

Izzy stood and you wrapped your hand around his girth, stroking him while Duff abused your mouth.

Tears welled in your eyes, heat pooling in your gut and you could feel your panties sticking to your pretty lips from how wet you were just from satisfying the two, hearing their grunts and groans.

"Fuck, my turn." Izzy demanded, pulling you off of Duff and shoving himself past your lips. Duff groaned and jerked himself off. You could tell he was close and tried to pull off of Izzy to swallow his cum but Izzy had a tight hold on your hair and held you down on his dick, strings of his own cum flowing down your throat.

Duff's groans and heavy breaths mixed with Izzy's as his cum spurted onto your face.

Izzy let go of you and you pulled off of him, coughing and wiping your lips. Duff stopped you, holding your wrist while Izzy forced his thumb into your mouth, pulling and tugging at your lips and cheek.

"Couldn't even swallow it all." He sighed, giving your cheek a soft pat. "Can't let you walk off thinking that's ok, can we?" He looked to Duff who shook his.

The blonde harshly pulled you to your feet, Izzy got to work taking your top off from behind while Duff got on his knees and made work on your pants.

He didn't wait and pulled them completely off of you, eagerly spreading your legs and shoving his face to your cunt, lapping at your folds and holding you in place with this calloused hands.

Izzy started kissing down your neck, Duff pushed a finger into you. You squealed, clutching his hair tightly. He stared up at you, watching your reactions closely as he added another digit.

Izzy was nice enough to wipe your face off, but he took you away from Duff just before you came. "No!" You whined, reaching out for Duff, your core aching for his tongue and fingers once more.

The raven haired man just laughed at you. Duff wiped his mouth as he stood up and walked over to you with a few strides of his long legs. "Sweet thing, all needy for us?"

"Yes, I-I need it so bad~" You smiled a crooked smile, drool dripping down your chin from sucking Izzy off.

"Don't worry," Izzy mused, lips caressing the shell of your ear, "we'll take care of you."

You had no say in what happened and you loved it. Izzy thrust into you, setting a harsh pace instantly. Duff closed the gap between you and you clung to him, moaning out, babbling out nonsense as Izzy fucked you dumb.

You could feel him twitching inside you, veins dragging against your gummy walls, repeatedly hitting that sweet spot.

"Hah! Ngh- Inside, inside, please!"

Duff pulled away from your neck, admiring the marks he'd left as he spoke. "Me?" You hadn't meant that, but now that he suggested it you couldn't say no, smiling widely as you nodded.

Duff looked to Izzy who momentarily paused at the idea.

Izzy slowed his thrusts nearly to a stop as Duff lined himself up with your hole. Izzy's hands gripped your hips while Duff's arms were wrapped around your waist, your own arms wrapped around his neck.

His pushed into you, just the tip, and your eyes shut open at the sting from the stretch. The pain faded to pleasure as he pushed further in, your soft whines turning to moans as the two started rocking in and out of you.

They sped up, playing tug-a-war with your cunt. Duff pressed his lips to yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth, his groans mixing in with your moans.

Izzy's fingers came down to rub your clit, teasing it, toying with it. "Don't cum yet." He ordered, his voice raspy. "Just-just wait." You did as he asked the best you could, clenching around them and pushing Izzy over the edge.

He moaned into your ear as he filled you with his cum. Duff picked you up effortlessly and pinned you against the nearest wall, hooking your knees over his shoulders as he came in you.

He set you down slowly, panting and holding you close. "Obedient slut." Izzy mused. "You listened, right? Didn't cum?" You shook your head, knees wobbling and tears trickling down your cheeks.

Izzy picked you up, letting you wrap yourself around him as he carried you to the couch. He sat down and turned you to face Duff who sat comfortably between your legs, your knees hooked over Izzy's.

"Don't worry, we're not done with you yet." Duff assured, licking between your folds once more and lapping up your juices, now mixed with his own and Izzy's.

[buckymorelikefuckme]

small but mighty

jake jensen x fem reader

words: 712

warnings & tags: **18+ ONLY** smut ahead besties, teasing, sex toys / use of sex toy (m receiving), handjob. pls let me know if i missed anything!

a/n: jakey baby go brrrr 🫨🫨🫨 lmao no but really this is just self indulgent filth idk what else to tell ya. i teased it here~ quickly read through but any and all mistakes are my own. feedback is greatly appreciated and highly encouraged! xoxo

jake jensen masterlist || main masterlist

He shouldn't have asked. It’s all he can think at the moment as his pulse throbs in his ears and his skin tingles with warmth. His entire being is humming with energy that he doesn't really know what to do with. He really shouldn't have asked.

But, like, he’s also kind of glad he did?

Listen. He found your toys—the whole trunk of them—and amidst the varying sizes and styles of dildos and nipple clamps and leather harnesses and bindings and every other thing that had him hard within minutes, he found a tiny and unassuming vibrator that he frowned at. Compared to everything else, he didn't really see what could be worth keeping this little toy for with the bells and whistles of the others.

So, naturally, after you found him sitting on the floor with your, ahem, toy box open and an expression on his face like he'd found a lost treasure, Jake asked what could be so great about it.

The grin you sent his way scared him and also made his dick twitch.

You told him a practical demonstration would be better. He'd been too blinded by his horniness to do anything besides hastily agree and immediately started stripping.

Which leads to the present. You're sitting on his legs in an effort to keep him still and it's only halfway working. But, in his defense, you've also got his cock in a firm grip, messy with lube and buzzing from the bullet vibrator he'd mistakenly judged too harshly. You've been dragging it along the length of him at an agonizing pace and he seriously can't help the way he writhes and twitches.

“Still think it's not a useful toy?” you ask, circling his tip with a look of concentration.

Jake’s hips buck beneath you, jostling you a bit. He apologizes breathlessly and tries to swallow past his dry mouth.

“N-No, I… I get it,” he acquiesces.

You smile at him, glancing at him from under your lashes. “Yeah? Do you think it feels good just here?” you wonder as you run it across his perineum. “Or do you think it would feel good elsewhere?”

“Wha…?”

His brain can't make sense of the question, but it catches on rather quickly when you take the vibrator away from his cock and tease his nipples with it. He gasps, gaze dropping where his nipples are becoming more sensitive than he ever thought they could. Goosebumps rise across his flesh and he shivers, closing his eyes as he pants for breath.

“They're very versatile,” you muse lightly.

“Yeah,” he replies, voice strained.

Slowly, you trail it down his chest and stomach, going past his leaking erection and to his balls. He jumps and lets out an undignified noise, and you choose that moment to begin stroking him in fast motions, slick sounds filling the air and mixing with his growing moans.

“Size doesn't matter, baby,” you tease.

He tries to laugh, but it comes out more like a sob. The muscles in his stomach clench and unclench, his hands torn between fisting the sheets and squeezing your hips as his orgasm creeps nearer. It's approaching rapidly and he tries to warn you, feels his thighs tense, but his jaw only slackens enough to let a guttural groan slip out.

“Come for me,” you whisper, and he can only do as he's told, shuddering as his cock pulses in your hand then spurts his release, dripping down your wrist and his balls.

He hears the vibrator get switched off, yet his ears are still buzzing from the pleasure racing through his veins. It takes him a moment to come down and to register the touch of your hands petting at his arms and shoulders.

“That thing packs a punch, huh?” he jokes.

You giggle and lean over him to give him a sweet kiss. “I know I said size doesn't matter,” you say, then bite your lip to contain your next giggle, “but I love your big dick, baby.”

Jake flushes and huffs, pinching your thigh and grunting when you pinch his nipple in retaliation. He's sated and more than happy that his silly question yielded such pleasing results.

Maybe he can ask about some more of your toys. You know, for science.

[sp-by-april]

Poll Winner!! (Sharing is caring!)

Kenny, Kyle, Stan x F!Reader

[Submit a prompt!] [Master Lists]

I was about to have one of the best orgasms of my life. Kyle had my hands and legs tied to the bedposts as he was buried deep inside of me, hitting my g-spot perfectly. I was moaning loudly, my toes were curled and it was my third of the night, so when I finally came it was earth-shattering.

Kyle’s face looked so smug and satisfied as he watched me writhe underneath him., I knew he was having just as much fun as I was. He always went the extra mile for me.

That’s why I was so surprised when the Stan and Kenny sauntered into our bedroom while he was still mid-stroke.

Stan smirked, “Do you need more time alone?”

“Uh, yeah–” I started to say, but Kyle cut me off.

“No, she’s primed and ready,” He kissed my forehead and jumped off of me.

“I’m what?”

Kyle looked at me, “You told me you wanted this,”

I did say that, but in my defense, “I was drunk! I was… musing,”

“Uh-huh,” He smirked, “I can send them home, but this is your only chance. Take it or leave it,”

It did sound like fun. And they did drive all the way across town. And Stan was already getting undressed.

So I rolled with it. Albeit, reluctantly.

Stan settled between my legs. Kenny was at the end of the bed and Kyle sat near my shoulders.

I looked up at him nervously, I couldn’t believe he was going to give me to his friends like this.

“Don’t look at me,” He smirked, “I’m not gonna save you,”

“She’s so wet,” Stan said as he rubbed his fingers over my naked slit and spread my arousal, “You didn’t come in her already?”

Kyle shook his head, “That’s all her. She can get a little messy,”

“Messy is fun,” Kenny grinned.

I was weirdly embarrassed. Here were these guys – Guys I thought I thought cared about me – appraising my body like a used car.

Stan leaned over me as his dick slid over my slit. I looked up at him and he flashed me this smile… One thing about these guys, they were great at putting me at ease.

I sucked in a sharp breath as he pushed into me, but soon settled and relaxed. He felt… really fucking good. Kyle was the only guy I’d been with and he felt so amazing, I was fine with it. Until now.

This was different. Not better, if that makes sense? Just fucking new and exciting and then Stan started rubbing my clit and I really couldn’t take it. I was already sensitive from three orgasms, but even if I hadn’t been – The way he touched me was fucking life-changing. I don’t think I’ll ever look at him the same way after that. Sometimes I still think about all the girls that he’d hooked up with after me and get jealous. He was that good.

I struggled against the restraints, not because I wanted to be free, but I just couldn’t control my body as the pleasure inside of me swelled and crested.

I was being so loud, I almost couldn’t hear him in my ear, “You moan like a little slut,”

Apparently, that was exactly what I needed to hear to push me over the edge. My muscles tensed up and I was gone. I must have squeezed Stan too tightly, because he quickly yanked himself off of me and I could feel hot wet spurts splash against my thigh.

I panted and tried to catch my breath as the three of them spoke above me.

“She’s loud,” Stan smiled and pushed himself against the sticky mess he left on my thigh.

Kyle crossed his arms, “Don’t pat yourself on the back too hard, I already made her come three times,”

“Oh,” Stan sounded a little disappointed.

I smiled up at him, “You still felt really good,”

Kyle pushed Stan’s shoulders back, “Your turn’s over,”

When Kenny climbed on top of me I was little nervous.

He turned to Kyle as he rubbed the head of his thick cock over my soaking wet slit, “What were the rules again?”

That question didn't help.

“Seriously?” Kyle rolled his eyes, “No mouth, no coming inside of her,”

“So.. I could fuck her ass if I wanted?”

Kyle shrugged, “Go for it, I hardly ever use it –“

“Can I come in her then?” Kenny asked with a grin.

“I guess –“

“What if I fucked her pussy and then come in her ass?”

I could already tell Kyle was getting pissed off as he looked down at me, “It’s up to you,”

“Um...” I wasn’t sure how to answer, part of me felt like this was a test I was already failing, “If you really want to,”

Kenny pushed inside of me and I gasped. My entire body shuddered as he buried himself as deep as the soft walls in my body would let him. He built up a quick and hard rhythm so fast, it almost made my head spin.

I know It was partially because I was fucked by all three of them in a row but I was surprised that while they were all so different, they were each so amazing. And fun.

I quickly discovered Kenny was a call-and-response guy.

His hot breath sank over my ear, “You like that?”

I nodded quickly. The way he was fucking me, I wasn’t sure I could talk.

“Are you gonna be a good girl?” He slammed hard into me, “Are you gonna let me fill you up?”

“Y-yeah,” I moaned back at him.

He studied my body with a smirk on his face, “Tell me what you want,”

“I want you to come inside me,” I whined.

Kenny ran his tongue from my collarbone up my neck, “Tell me again”

“Come inside –”

He nipped at my ear, “Again,”

I couldn’t take it anymore, “Fucking come inside me, Kenny,”

“Fuck, yeah?” His hips bucked up into me and he groaned low as I felt him pump spurt after spurt into the very place he was forbidden from just a little while ago.

Kenny took a deep breath as he looked down at me, “Sorry, are you okay?”

I nodded with a smile and he grinned back at me, “I might have to take you home with me,”

Kyle looked down at me, “Are you okay?”

I nodded again, “I’m fine, Kyle,”

Kyle pushed Kenny hard, “This is exactly why we never do this shit any more,”

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

The Naughty Nanny Chapter 4

Summary:  Bucky had a lovechild from a one night stand.  He barely even remembered it, and was surprised to find a baby on his doorstep 9 months later.  But one look at that little girl and he knew she was his and that he’d die for her.  The only problem was, he knew nothing about babies, and being an Avenger meant he couldn’t just drop everything and be a dad full time.  Then he found the perfect nanny…or so he thought.

**In this universe Steve never left, Tony never died.** **curvy reader** Warnings: talk of sexual harassment, unwanted/non-consensual touching/sexual assault, eventual smut

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Bucky woke up feeling groggy but well rested.  He turned to his nightstand and picked up his phone.  The time read 9:34 and he darted up.  Winnie hadn’t made a peep all night as far as he could tell.  Was she okay?  He lurched out of bed and sprang into the living room, looking around for Winnie then paused at the sight in front of him.  Y/N was cooking breakfast in the kitchen with Winnie in the bouncer next to her.  Music was playing and Y/N was singing along, turning to Winnie and dancing next to her, making Winnie laugh and screech as she watched Y/N.  Bucky smiled fondly as he tried to even out his breathing.

“G’morning,” he called out over the music.

Y/N turned quickly and looked at him in surprise then smiled.  Winnie looked toward him and clapped her hands together, her breaths coming out in excited pants.  “Good morning, Bucky,” Y/N greeted him.  “I’m making pancakes, you want some?”  

“That sounds amazing,” he said, smiling back at her.  He walked over to Winnie and picked her up out of the bouncer.  “Good morning, sweet girl.  How did she do last night?”  He turned to Y/N who was plating some pancakes and eggs.

“She woke up a couple of times, once at about midnight and again at almost four, just to eat, but otherwise she was awesome,” Y/N replied as she turned toward him and slid the plate to him.  “We were just having a dance party.”

“You did so good, Winnie!”  Bucky said excitedly and tickled Winnie’s tummy, making her giggle.  “I’m just glad she didn’t keep you up all night.”

“At her age it’s pretty common to have a sleep regression,” Y/N answered and reached out for Winnie, who happily obliged to go move into her arms.  “She could be going through a growth spurt, or maybe it’s this tooth you have coming in!”  She poked at Winnie’s mouth and Winnie opened her mouth wide in a laugh.

“A tooth?”  Bucky leaned in and thumbed at Winnie’s lip.  Sure enough, there was a tiny white tooth starting to poke through her gums on her lower gum line.  “My god, you’re getting too big too fast.”  

Y/N chuckled then gestured to his plate.  “You go ahead and eat, I’m getting her plate ready.”

“I can help,” Bucky suggested.

“No no, you go ahead,” Y/N shooed him away and turned back to Winnie’s high chair, placing her in it and buckling her in.  She pushed the high chair over to the table where Bucky moved to and then went back to the counter finishing Winnie’s plate.  “How did you sleep?”

“Better than I have in a long time,” Bucky sighed happily as he took a bite of pancake.  He groaned at the taste.  “Wow, this is delicious.  Thank you.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Y/N grinned as she brought Winnie’s plate over.  It was a small portion of cut up pancake, bananas and strawberries that Winnie gleefully started to grab and shove in her mouth.  “It’s an old sourdough recipe from my grandma.  Makes the pancakes thinner, but that means you can eat a lot more,” she pinched Winnie’s cheek lightly and went back to grab her own plate.  

“Sourdough pancakes.  Interesting,” Bucky mused as he chowed down on the small stack she gave him.  He finished way too quickly and went back for seconds and thirds.

“Jesus, that super soldier serum is no joke,” Y/N laughed when he sat down for a third time as she was just finishing her plate.

“Honestly,” Bucky sighed as he stuffed his mouth.  “Sometimes it feels like I’ll never get full.”

“That sounds frustrating,” Y/N said empathetically.

“It can be.  It is what it is,” Bucky mumbled around another bite.  

Y/N gave him a sad smile then focused back on Winnie, wiping her mouth with a wet washcloth.  “There’s a message for you.”

Bucky looked at her then up at the ceiling.  “Friday?”

“Good morning Sergeant Barnes.  There is one message for you from Steve Rogers.”

“Play it, please,” Bucky instructed as he looked back down at his plate and finished the pancakes.

“Hey pal, hope all went well last night!  Hi nanny Y/N!  When you get a chance could you meet me in the conference room?  See you soon.”

Bucky groaned and turned to Y/N.  “Would you be okay to keep her for a bit longer while I go handle this?”

“No problem,” Y/N said.  “We’re just gonna clean up and take a bath!” Winnie babbled at Y/N smiling at her.  

“Alright, thanks,” Bucky said.  He cleaned up his plate and helped do some of the dishes, then got ready and went down to meet Steve.  When he entered the conference room Steve was looking at a screen with multiple tabs going.  “Hey punk,” Bucky greeted him.

“Hey,” Steve said, smiling towards him.  “How did last night go?”

“She was great,” Bucky said.  “I don’t think I’ve had that good of a night of sleep since…well ever, really.”

“Good,” Steve said.  “I hate to burst your bubble, but something’s come up.”  After they spoke a little more about a game plan for a new mission Bucky went back up to his suite.  When he opened the door he saw Y/N and Winnie on the couch sleeping.  It was about time for Winnie’s first nap so he wasn’t surprised, but he couldn’t stop staring at Y/N holding her.  Winnie fit perfectly on Y/N’s chest that rose and fell slowly as she breathed.  Her hands were wrapped protectively around Winnie in a way that would make it so she wouldn’t fall, and her eyes fluttered every now and then as she dreamed.  He’d thought she was beautiful when he first saw her, but even more so now as she held his baby and was so loving towards her.  

He smiled and quietly closed the door before walking over to them.  He kneeled down and softly reached up to touch Winnie’s cheek then softly shook Y/N’s hand closest to him to wake her up.  She hummed and slowly opened her eyes, blinking at him.  “Oh, hey Buck,” she yawned and tried to sit up without waking Winnie.

“Hey, I’m sorry that took so long,” he whispered.

“It’s okay,” Y/N said as she held Winnie close and twisted so she could transfer her over to Bucky.  He wrapped his arms around Winnie and held her close to his chest as she squirmed, trying to keep her asleep for a little longer.  “She was perfect.  Got her bathed and changed.”

“Thank you,” Bucky said appreciatively.  “You can take a break if you want.”

“Sure,” Y/N nodded and he backed away to give her room to stand.  “I hope your meeting went well?”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Bucky answered.  “It was fine, just a new mission coming up soon.”

“Hm,” she hummed again.  “Well, I’ll just be in my room for a bit.  Holler if you need me.”

“Will do,” he grinned.  She gave him one last smile as she walked down the hall to her door.  He looked down at Winnie, a frown forming on his face.  His first mission pulling him away from his baby.  It seemed pretty standard, routine even, but one could never tell how these things were going to go.  He held her a little tighter as he tried to mentally prepare himself.

***

Get your ass back here NOW.

You can’t just quit.  You’re my one fat dancer.  The fetish dudes pay good money for you.

You fucking bitch.  You’ll regret this. Y/N sighed at the barrage of texts.  The burlesque club owner, Wilson Fisk, also known as the Kingpin, had made his intentions with her clear from the moment he’d bought the club out from the previous owner, and she had wanted no part of it, or him.  The rumors flew about his underground dealings, and she was the only one rebelling against him and his manipulative tactics.  She knew he wouldn’t let it go, but she felt safe in the Avengers compound.  She blocked the new number he texted her with again and silenced it.

@angelbabyyy99 @capswife @julvrs @bellabarnes1378 @mega-kittyglitter-1 @buckitostan @mostlymarvelgirl @drdbnkl2008 @wintrsoldrluvr @danzer8705

[bucknastysbabe]

Hiii can you write anything where like the reader is Aemond’s older sister, she���s kinda a bitch to him (in the way older sisters always are, not like vile just rude and sometimes mean but like in a “only I can make fun of him” way), but they’re betrothed and it’s their wedding night and she’s nervous

Lmfao I love Aemond and characterizing his persona of I Am The Toughest Targ Ever But I Am Socially Awkward. Thanks for the request, hope you enjoy xoxo

Get a load of this guy!

Rating: Explicit at the end. Other than that SFW

Tags: Teasing, Incest, Frottage, pnv!sex, Aemond’s religious issues, Aemond’s social issues, targaryen!Sister, background sibling stuff aka Aegon is still an idiot, she’s mean but loves him

You poked him in the shoulder in court. More of a jab really. Aemond’s sulky purple eyes glared at you. He mouthed, “What?” You smirked and leaned down, as he hadn’t hit his growth spurt yet and whispered, “Bow a bit harder to father and you might lick his boots next time.”

Aegon dissolved into a fit of snickers, hiding his smile behind a ringed hand. Helaena held hands with mother, staring off into the distance. Aemond grimaced and hissed, “Very funny. At least I show some decency.” He held his pointed chin up high, but you could see the embarrassed flush on his cheeks.

You grinned and shoved him, earning a sharp look from mother.

You sat with your father and Lord Strong, watching Aemond twirl his sword around. You had to admit he had…grown into a handsome young man. He was your betrothed. At some point it might’ve been Jacaerys, but that ended long ago with the loss of your brother’s eye. Seeing your nephew gawk at the much more skilled, handsome, and elegant Aemond made you not question the betrothal one bit.

“Nephews? Have you come to train,” he called with that dead serious look he always held.

The boys looked apt to soil their breeches. You would too, especially if you were little Luke. They stared in shock. You smirked and leaned over the stone, shouting, “Better run lads! Aemond here is of the touchy sort!” That got a smile on their face but a sword pointed up at you.

Your brother frowned deeply, brow furrowed. He sourly replied, “You’re a very becoming jester sister!” You shrugged and laughed, Viserys’ own laughing dissolving into a haggard cough. Aemond snapped back around to get settled by Ser Criston. He was so easy to rile up, regardless of how Aemond tried to act calm and collected.

Still, he was doing better than drunkard Aegon. Drunkard Aegon was entertaining in his own ways, but no fit for a king. Everyone knew that. You hoped Rhaenyra could take the throne and that was that. Emphasis on hoped.

Your mother had informed you that the wedding was to be rushed forward. She claimed both you and your brother were past age to procreate, since Hel and Aegon had already pushed out three. You raised a brow, wondering if Alicent considered she was 19 when she had Aegon. Aemond was eighteen and you twenty. Plenty of time.

“No more questions my child,” Alicent said.

You nodded, flexing your fingers to stare at your nails. It was something to focus on. Viserys’ ill health was the real reason. You opened your mouth to speak, earning a smack to the hand.

Still you uttered.

“Aemond know?”

“Yes.”

Fuck.

Aegon was plastered. Again. But that was perfect for you to get any information on your soon-to-be forever twerp’s sexual history. He lazed on a bench in Maegor’s Holdfast, stinking of the streets and sex. You wrinkled your nose and kicked him in the thigh.

He spluttered and hazy violet eyes stared up at you. Aegon sleepily slurred, “Whahyowan?” Rolling your eyes you sat down and tucked your legs to the side. You probably smelt of dragon, hopefully the dullard wouldn’t puke. Petting back his wild locks you said, “You took Aemond to a brothel, yes?”

His pouty lips curled into a tipsy grin, manic laugh bubbling out into the high ceiling. Aegon mused, “Yea! Like a’lil maid’n!” You moved your gloved hand in jerks to get him to keep talking. Aegon sat up a little and hummed, “Ya’ scared Aem’s gonna be impotent?” He shrugged, “Refused ta’ go back w’me but he can get the job done, dear sis!”

You flatly stared while the prince giggled and slapped his knee in hysteria.

“Ha-ha very funny Aegon. Good news he’ll be able to get it up,” you poked him, “Unlike someone I know!” Aegon gaped for a moment before laughing harder, clutching his stomach. You couldn’t help but join in with him, he had always kept you laughing.

A couple days before the wedding you approached Aemond in the library. He was pouring over scrolls per usual, one eye intense and rapidly moving across the words. He stiffened and sat up, primly addressing you, “Princess.”

You hopped onto the wooden table, placing your hand over his readings. Aemond huffed, crossing his arms and pursing fine lips. In an exasperated tone he asked, “Will you drop the terrorizing older sibling act when we are to be wed?” You almost laughed in his face before registering the tone of uncertainty, the dead honesty in his eye.

Slowly, softly, and quite nervously you placed your hand over his much bigger one. Aemond inhaled sharply, tilting his blonde head away. You sighed, “You know I mean nothing by teasing you right? It’s just fun to see the golden child get flustered.”

Aemond narrowed his one eye, lovely hair swaying as he snapped his head up, but didn’t move his hand away. He stated, “Golden child. Hm.” His jaw ticked as the second son thought over your words. You leaned in with a secretive smile, whispering, “Well obviously Aegon’s not fit and Hel is taking care of his kids, playing with bugs.”

Aemond scoffed at your dismissal of Helaena. He filled in, cocking his head, “What does that make you then? The troublesome elder sister who should’ve had offspring by now?” You smacked his shoulder lightly in dismay.

“Easy now Aemond,” you teased. His lips quirked slightly, that cute blush from embarrassment rearing it’s head. He stared at you quietly, cheeks pinkened. You raised a brow, nervously joking, “What? Why are you looking like that?”

The chair scraped back with a jolt, you yelped and jumped in surprise. Aemond’s big hands covered your shoulders as hard lips pressed to your own. He softened slightly, you moving your lips against his own. Your hand came up to tilt his head so his nose would stop mashing against yours. Little fool.

The kiss grew heated, Aemond’s hands squeezing softly. He tentatively lapped against your tongue, you gasping in excitement. The pair of you lazily moved together, pressing closer and closer. Your brother made a soft sigh, twirling his tongue against your own. You spread your legs to let him closer. He grunted and gripped harder, growing desperate. When you reached down to palm his hard length Aemond pulled back with a sharp gasp, readjusting himself.

You gasped in shock, biting out, “The hells Aem? Something wrong with you?”

He heaved, composing himself back to that cold demeanor. Aemond declared snootily, “We must wait until our wedding. As the gods intended.” A purple eye flicked down while he continued, “I think it’s best if you go for now.”

You were annoyed now. The bastard got you riled up and your cunt wet. What did it matter if the wedding was days away? You snapped, “Others take you! Do you always have to be so damn proper? Imp.”

Indignantly hopping down the table you couldn’t help but feel scorned, tugging your stays into place. Aemond stood stiff as a board, like his obviously interested cock in his trousers. He avoided your angry glare. You scoffed and stomped off. Atleast you knew he was hung.

You were properly wed now. Also very clothed with your nuisance of a brother pacing around— clothed too. He had forbidden the usual bawdy act of the bedding ceremony. Aegon had loudly complained the entire time, damn pervert. Nerves shook your body. Aemond muttered to himself, “Okay. Duty. I will fulfill my duty.”

You began to take off your beautiful dress, a bit dejected at his utilitarian approach to this. You had hoped the passion he had in the kiss earlier this week would come back.

Once your second stocking was off Aemond stopped pacing and gawked at you. He deadpanned, “What are you doing?” You spat, “Undressing myself so you can ‘fulfill your duty’ husband!” He looked upset, lips pursing in distaste. Aemond said almost imperceptibly, “Wait.”

You stopped and raised a brow. He came closer, now much larger frame crowding your own. He murmured, “That’s my job to undress my wife.” Your gaze softened, a hand reaching blindly for Aemond’s calloused one. You squeezed his hand gently.

As if struck by a force Aemond lifted and pushed you onto the bed. He yanked off his boots frantically, calling, “One second, okay? Stay still.” You couldn’t help but laugh, some of the nerves dissipating at the rigid brother hopping around stripping like a madman. Your laugh stopped as his hardened body was revealed to your eyes.

Fuck. He was handsome. That cock was terrifying to think about fitting inside of you. He stilled and asked, “I know I’m all scarred-,” you interrupted and hissed, “Take off the damn patch and undress me like you promised.”

He did so and busied himself ridding your dress and underclothes with steady hands. You complimented, “I love the sapphire, dolt.” He smacked your bare ass, yanking off your chemise. You moaned at the sharp pain, cunt beginning to ache.

Aemond flipped you over and crawled onto the bed, his sureness melting away. Like your own as the gravity of the situation hit you. Man and wife, naked as the day they were born, about to consummate their union. You shook with anxiety, panting under his strong body.

Aemond blinked slowly before saying, “It’s just your ‘imp’ of a brother, relax.” You closed the gap between your faces, closing into his lips like before. Aemond settled between your thighs, hard cock slotting against your bare cunt. Both of you gasped into the kiss, hands running wild across pale bodies. You deepened the kiss, licking inside Aemond’s warm mouth.

He responded with a low noise and a rut against your slick entrance. The tip of his cock drug against your bundle of nerves, drawing a surprised whine out of you. Aemond seemed to smile against your mouth, doing it again, even grabbing your hips to get a better angle.

You wrapped your thighs around his slim waist, moaning softly. Everything felt so nice. You nipped Aemond’s lip and begged, “Aem, Aem, ah- kiss my neck?” He hummed and lowered his mouth down your jaw and to the sensitive thin skin of your throat.

You threw your head back and let out a long whine, rutting back against him roughly. Your belly was tightening like it did when you pleasured yourself late, late at night. Aemond groaned quietly, sucking a mark onto your collarbone, one of his hands curiously groping your breast.

Your clit was growing more sensitive from the friction, gasping out, “Fuck! Aemond you better not stop!” He laughed breathily, “I won’t dear sister.” He snapped his hips a couple more times before you cried out and locked your thighs tight around him. Your cunt pulsed and wetted further along his cock.

Aemond groaned, “Gods, fucking hells. I need to fuck you.”

You nodded in a heated daze, begging, “Yes, yes, fuck me brother.”

He reached down to ease himself in, breathing going stuttered and harsh. You whined at the pinch, clinging to his wide shoulders, grabbing onto long blonde hair. He slid in until fully seated as best as he could in your tight pussy, desperately panting and kissing.

“Oh my,” was all he could utter.

The pair of you kissed until Aemond began to stroke into your now relaxed body. The pain had subsided, your slick easing the way. He gritted out against you, “Not- fuck- going to last my lady.” You babbled, “Don’t care, go wild you idiot.” He growled and wetly slapped harder into you, balls hitting your ass. You smiled— still so easy to piss off that one.

Aemond roughly fucked you, focusing all his energy like in the training yard. You yanked at his silky strands, moaning with abandon, crying his name with delight.

“That’s it! Fuck! Yes brother!”

Aem slapped your ass again, biting your lip until it bled. He groaned, “Yeah? Good?” You nodded with an echo, “Yes, s’good!” Aemond’s eye seemed to roll up as he fucked deeper, face falling to the sweaty crook of your neck. He grabbed so hard at your waist it would bruise later, snapping his hips with feral grunts.

You praised him along, the twitching of his cock growing more frequent. Aemond panted, “Close.” Squeezing around his length, you kissed at the tender scar around the bad eye. Your younger brother slammed into you a final time, filling you with his hot seed. The blonde rasped your name in a low timbre, mumbling nonsense as he shook.

He relaxed and slumped onto you, petting your hair in a haze. You’d never seen your brother so worn out, pliant. He sucked in breath, palms soothing the skin where he was practically tearing at your waist. You sighed at the feeling of completeness. It was done, and quite fantastic at that.

You couldn’t help but pinch Aemond’s sharp cheek and tease, “If only you fucked as well as you interact with others.” His annoyed grumble lit up your heart. So, so easy.

[lucygxybaird]

i've just a seen a face, i can't forget the time or place where we just met. she's just the girl for me, and i want all the world to see we've met. had it been another day, i might have looked the other way, and i'd have never been aware. but as it is, i'll dream of her tonight. (i've just seen a face - the beatles) Billy treats his mother to a night of live music, thinking she deserves to have a little bit of fun. He doesn't expect to meet a sweet, scintillating songbird named Lucy Gray Baird.

“Oh, Billy, I’m not sure about this—”

Kathleen McCarty hesitates on the threshold of the saloon, her hand tucked into the crook of Billy’s arm as though to restrain him from going inside. The double doors are thrown open to catch the hint of spring in the air, musing spilling out into the street along with the lamplight. It’s already crowded, a band going full swing on a makeshift stage at the back of the cavernous room. The dance floor is so packed that Billy can only catch a glimpse of an elbow here, a swirl of a skirt there, a tip of a hat or tap of a boot. 

He desperately wants to go in.

Billy offers his mother an encouraging smile. “Ma, come on, it’ll be fun. Please? Please? We won’t stay for very long, I promise,” he says, unabashedly wheedling. “Just a song or two. You deserve to have some fun.”

God knows that’s true. Between working herself to the bone, taking care of him and Joe, and dealing with Antrim’s special sort of bullshit, Kathleen doesn’t have any time for herself. And Billy remembers well how much she and his father used to love to dance. “I’ll ask the band if they know any Irish folk tunes,” he adds, grinning, and his expression only brightens when Kathleen smiles back at him. 

“Oh, well,” she says. “Alright. But only a song or two, do you hear?” She pauses. “Do you think the band knows Téir Abhaile Riú?”

Billy laughs, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “I’ll ask,” he says again. “Come on.”

He leads his mother inside, just as the band finishes their song. The young woman standing in center stage beams, and Billy thinks he actually feels his heart flutter for a second. She’s tiny — standing in her heeled boots, she may not even come up to his shoulder, although it’s hard to tell with her standing up there — but she exudes a blaze of energy, drawing the eye the way a fork of lightning will steal all eyes from the stars. 

“Thank you, thank you!” She spreads her arms wide as if to embrace the whole room. “My name is Lucy Gray Baird, we’re the Covey, and I promise, we’ll be right back after we wet our whistles for just a minute or two.”

She jumps down with the light, easy grace of a deer bounding through the woods, landing right in front of him. Billy is aware of the other members of the band — there’s a flash of blonde curls, the impossibly sharp angle of an elbow that can only belong to a teenage boy going through a growth spurt, and a young woman hauling a bass at her side — but he can’t take his eyes off Lucy Gray. When she smiles at him, his own smile is tugged from him as naturally as the moon pulling the tides toward shore.

“I think those might be the prettiest blue eyes I’ve ever seen, but it’s hard to tell with that hat hanging over your face,” she says. “Let me check.”

Reaching up, Lucy Gray actually picks his hat up off his head, holding it down by her side like it belongs to her. She tilts her head, wrinkling her nose as though considering the depth of color on his eyes. “Yep,” she says, putting the hat firmly back on for him. “Blue, just like I thought. Maybe the bluest. Definitely the prettiest.”

Billy, trying to cover the fact that he’s now blushing furiously, says: “Why don’t I buy you a drink for getting it right?” 

Lucy Gray smiles at him again. “What would I have gotten for being wrong?”

“A drink,” Billy says, and she laughs. 

She leads the way toward the bar, and slips onto the stool, swinging her booted feet idly. Billy slides onto the stool next to hers, waving down the bartender. “Whiskey,” he says. “And—”

He looks over at Lucy Gray. She raises an eyebrow, grinning up at him. “A whiskey for me, too, sugar.”

As the bartender pours them each a drink, Billy touches the brim of his hat, nodding at her. She giggles. “My name is Billy,” he says. “I brought my ma in to hear the music.”

He looks over at Kathleen, who has found a table near the door. She waves at him, and he waves back. Lucy Gray wiggles her fingers, blowing Kathleen a kiss. “I can see where you get those lovely eyes of yours from,” she says, propping her chin on the heel of her palm. 

She picks up her glass and takes a long sip, closing her eyes as if in pleasure. He watches the way her long, dark eyelashes flutter, how her lips purse on the rim of the glass. All of a sudden, he’s desperately thirsty in a way whiskey won’t fix, but he downs half his own order in one go anyway. 

Before he even has a chance to ask if she knows any Irish tunes, Lucy Gray says: “Does your ma wanna hear anything special?”

When Billy makes his request, she smiles and hops down from her stool. “You bring her right up front,” she says. “We’ll sing just for her.” 

Billy grins at her and crosses the room to his mother, as the band starts to gather up on stage again. “Come on, Ma,” he says, offering her his hand. “Lucy Gray says they’ll play your song.”

“Oh, Lucy Gray’s her name, is it?” Kathleen is smiling at him in the certain way all mothers have when they believe their children to be acting especially endearing. “I could see you two talking over there. She’s rather pretty.”

“Ma,” Billy groans softly, feeling more grateful than he can express in words that Lucy Gray is up on stage, in conversation with the willowy bass player, and she can’t possibly hear this conversation. Otherwise he would just have to hope for a very singular sinkhole to open up at his feet and swallow him whole. “We were just — I mean, I’m sure she has a…”

The words haven’t even left his mouth and already he finds them upsetting. Lucy Gray having a beau has only occurred to him just now, and he finds himself looking around the room, trying to find a a man young enough for her — one sitting alone, maybe, eyes trained on the stage like he can’t bear to look away. But it looks like every man here (apart from Billy himself) is too old, or with someone, or both. He relaxes a little. 

They find a place in front of the stage. Lucy Gray catches his eye, and she winks at him. Billy feels his face flush and wonders if the pink in his cheeks is visible with the lights of the stage shining in her eyes. 

“Oh, no, I saw the way she was looking at you,” Kathleen says, patting his arm. “If she’s seeing someone, she won’t be by the end of the evening, I’ll warrant.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but then music starts to tumble from the stage like a living thing -- drums gamboling and fiddles stepping lightly through the air, the strumming of a guitar twirling after them. Lucy Gray is standing center stage again, keeping time with a hand at her hip. 

“Look how the lights of the town, the lights of the town are shining now — tonight I’ll be dancing around, I’m off on the road to Galway now…” 

She steps lightly forward, arms sweeping in a graceful circle as her feet tap on the boards, the hem of her skirt belling outward as she twirls. He watches her light up from the inside out, beaming, eyes gleaming. 

“Look how she’s off on the town, she’s off on a search for sailors, though. There’s fine fellas here to be found, she’s never been on to stay at home—”

The bass player and the girl with blonde ringlets framing her face like a nimbus of gold lean forward, adding their voices to hers. 

“Home you’ll go and it’s there you’ll stay, and you’ll work to do in the morning. Give up your dreams of going away, forget your sailors in Galway.”

All the members of the band join in for the chorus, stamping their feet to the rhythm of the Irish tune. Kathleen is positively beaming at Billy’s side, clapping her hands in time. He keeps stealing glances at her in between drinking in Lucy Gray’s performance, thinking that he can’t remember the last time he’s seen his mother so happy. 

“Téir abhaile riú, tèir abhaile riu — téir abhaile ríu, Mherai, téir abhaile riú gus fan sa bhaile — mar tá do mhargadh déanta…”

The crowd around them has started to pair off, letting the fast, heady rush of the music carry them around the floor. Billy turns to his mother, grinning and holding out his hand once more — but before he can take it, he hears a light clatter of boots and turns to see Lucy Gray, grinning widely herself. She bobs a curtsey to Kathleen and puts out her own hand, beckoning encouragingly. 

“Come now and follow me down, down to the lights of Galway where there’s fine sailors walking the town, and waiting to meet the ladies there…”

He expects his mother to demure, huddle against him, but instead, she puts her hand in Lucy Gray’s like she’s known the girl all her life. Lucy Gray doesn’t miss a beat as the two girls left on stage carry on the tune. 

“Watch now, he’ll soon be along — he’s finer than any sailor, so, come now and pick up your spoons. He’s waiting to hear you play them, whoo!”

Billy can’t stop himself from laughing from sheer joy and pleasure as he watches the years fall away from his ma, her dark curls flying away from her face, her eyes brightening and her feet just as light as her partner’s twinkling toes. Lucy Gray is laughing even as she sings, the sweetness of her voice warming with ripples of joy. 

“Here today and she’s gone tomorrow, and next she’s going to Galway. Jiggin’ around and off to town, and won’t be back until the morning.”

He’s aware of a flash of yellow from the corner of his eye, and he looks down to see the little blonde singer, putting out her hands to him. Billy bows, one hand over his heart and the other folding behind his back, and the girl smiles up at him. He takes her by the hand and they whirl onto the floor, finding themselves by Lucy Gray and his mother. 

“Téir abhaile riú, tèir abhaile riu — téir abhaile ríu, Mherai, téir abhaile riú gus fan sa bhaile — mar tá do mhargadh déanta…”

He realizes, with a kick to his heart, that his ma is singing along. He can’t remember the last time he’s heard her sing, or even hum. Idly, picking up the girl and spinning around with her in his arms, he thinks he’ll have to ask his mother what the Gaelic chorus means. 

“Off with a spring in my step, the sailors are searching Galway for a young lady such as myself, for reels and jigs and maybe more…”

Lightly, with no signal at all except a flick of Lucy Gray’s dark head, she darts to one side and Billy’s partner to the other, with the blonde taking Kathleen’s hand and twirling under her arm. Kathleen laughs, and Lucy Gray snatches up Billy’s hands, tugging him closer. 

“Stay here and never you mind the lights of the town are blinding you. The sailors, they come and they go, but listen to what’s reminding you — handsome men surrounding you, dancing a reel around you…”

Singing of handsome men, Lucy Gray leans up on her toes, her lips at his ear, as if the words are just for him. He turns his head to hide his grin, but he catches a glimpse of her dark eyes, and he knows that she saw. It doesn’t really burn him, this idea. It doesn’t burn him at all, actually. 

“Home you’ll go and it’s there you’ll stay, and you’ve got work to do in the morning. Give up your dream of going away, forget your sailors in Galway…”

Billy knows most of the people on the dance floor, by sight if not by name — the old woman who works at the inn where they stayed when they first arrived in town; the owner of the Chinese laundry and his wife, neither of whom he’s seen smile this wide before; his mother’s friend Hattie, who is clasped in the arms of—

“Mr. Upson, is that you?” Billy calls to him over the music, unable to keep from laughing again. 

Mr. Upson just grins at him and frees a hand from Hattie’s waist to tip his hat toward Billy. 

“Téir abhaile riú, tèir abhaile riu — téir abhaile ríu, Mherai, téir abhaile riú gus fan sa bhaile — mar tá do mhargadh déanta…”

As Billy turns again, Lucy Gray still grasping his hands like she’ll never let go, she leans back on her heels. He whirls her around, easy as you please; she’s light as a feather, and in any case, he would sooner drop an anvil on his foot than drop this girl right now. 

“Listen to the music flow, I’m falling for the flow of home. I’m home to dance til dawning…”

Her voice warms him from the inside out, song flowing from her lips like the finest of wines, and he knows he’s not the only one getting drunk on the sound of her. Everyone, his mother included, is flushed with exertion and a giddy happiness that drives the years and their troubles away like the gentle mornings of spring driving away all thought of winter’s chill. 

“Téir abhaile riú, tèir abhaile riu — téir abhaile ríu, Mherai, téir abhaile riú gus fan sa bhaile — mar tá do mhargadh déanta…”

Lucy Gray keeps one of his hands in hers and reaches for other for Kathleen, who is still dancing with the tiny blonde singer. Kathleen grabs onto Lucy Gray’s hand, looking up at Billy with starlight still caught in her eyes; Billy, for the first time in his life, understands how one can cry for joy. It’s like he’s so happy that he can’t contain it, a sweet ache that starts in his chest and spreads upwards, until his throat is tight and the corners of his eyes sting. Still, he wouldn’t trade the decision to come in here tonight for anything in the world. 

For more reason than one. 

“Stay a while and we’ll dance together now, as the light is falling. We’ll reel away til the break of day, and dance together till morning…”

The blonde girl reaches for Mr. Upson’s hand, and on his other side, Hattie reaches for someone else. Soon the dancers on the floor have formed a ring, whirling around in a feverish, excited circle, as the song plunges toward the chorus one last time. 

“Téir abhaile riú, tèir abhaile riu — téir abhaile ríu, Mherai, téir abhaile riú gus fan sa bhaile — mar tá do mhargadh déanta…”

As the Covey members still up onstage bring the song to an end with a flourish, Lucy Gray jumps nimbly back onto the boards, twirling around and spreading her hands. Kathleen ends up pressed against Billy’s side, giggling like a girl, her hair a mess and her smile firmly fixed on her face. Billy puts an arm around his mother’s shoulders to steady her as the crowd collects itself enough to burst into rapturous applause.

“Thank you! Thank you for comin’ out tonight, and joinin’ me in our final song—!”

The crowd groans, Billy included. Kathleen digs an elbow into his ribs. 

“—for tonight!” Lucy Gray insists. “For tonight. I promise y’all, we’re not goin’ anywhere just yet. In case you forgot, I’m Lucy Gray Baird, we’re the Covey, and I swear, we’ll be back to sing for you soon!”

Billy guides his mother over to the bar, the better to escape the crush of people as they start to leave. It seems that with the Covey done for the evening, most of the crowd is done, too. A few stragglers follow them to the bar and occupy the stools, but a few moments later, the place is nearly empty. 

“Ready to go?” Billy says, putting a hand on the small of Kathleen’s back, ready to guide her out. 

Instead of answering him, she flicks her dark blue gaze to the side of him, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I’ll wait for you at the door,” she says, and Billy turns to see Lucy Gray standing at his side, looking up at him with a scrap of paper peeking between her fingertips.  

“Your ma is quite the dancer,” she says, and Billy chuckles. “So are you.”

“Oh, well, thank you.” He tips his hat to her again, and she bobs her head in response. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen Ma like that. It’s been…” He falters, thinking of how she used to be, before Pa died. He pulls a smile onto his face from somewhere deep. “It’s been a while.”

Lucy Gray surprises him by taking his hand and squeezing it lightly, once, before letting go. She doesn’t pry, but she says, “Well, you two should come back sometime.” 

Before he can say they (sure as hell) will, a voice calls out from the back room: “Lucy Gray! We’ve leaving!”

She smiles and leans up to kiss his cheek. “Maude Ivory,” she says. “Your little dance partner.” She puts a hand to her mouth and adds in a stage whisper, “She thinks you’re cute. So do I.”

With Billy befuddled and blushing, she turns to go, crossing the room in light, graceful strides. As she disappears through a curtained door by the bar, Billy feels the whisper of paper against his palm and turns his hand over. He smiles at the note she’s passed him. 

If you want to see me before our next show (Thursday, 8 p.m.), meet me at the meadow by the old Willow Ford farm tomorrow night. I like to watch the stars come out. 

- Lucy Gray Baird.

He isn’t sure what compels to do it, but he finds himself lifting the scrap of paper to his lips and kissing her signature on the page, before slipping it into his pocket. Billy goes to join his mother at the door, and he barely registers the way she’s looking at him with that indulgent little smile on her face. He walks her home in a sort of daze, thinking that the sun has only just now set, and he can’t wait for it to do it again tomorrow. 

The next time the sun goes down, and the stars start to twinkle in their sea of indigo velvet, he knows that’s when he’ll see her again. 

[churchobones]

DWC DAY 1: CASUALTY/FLIRT

|| NEXT>>

It was as Thil’s frosted glass emptied that he flirted with a ghost. “Well, ain’t you a shiny lookin’ coin!  Last I saw you, you were an ad for dead!  What happened?! ” "Like I said, I slipped the noose," Bruce mused as he ran a hand along his well-trimmed beard. Clearly, Kallarel wasn't the only one who took pride in her appearance; vanity ran deep in the glossy hair and nourished lips-- which turned up at the corners, despite his poorly feigned reluctance. "But if you're really curious...It weren't long after you got me in that I found 'im. Zelion Mournvalor. Does the name ring a bell?"

He was a slight thing; the enigmatic nature of elf age aside, he might have looked like a teenager who never had a growth spurt, stunted at five and a half feet tall.  His features were pale and pretty, almost cherubic were it not for the deathly glow off his blue eyes.  Shoulder length, jet black hair was neatly tied back in a tail, lest it get in his way.

It was as though he stepped out of the painting in that dilapidated estate; a cross between a proud father and a stern child.

“Mister Hawkins,” his voice was soft to match his size as he called the dog by the name the witch used.  “So nice you could make it.”

"Picture this: Two men meet in an extravagant ballroom, with shiny floors and every footfall echoing off  the thirty foot ceiling. Him: black void crystals swirling around his head and flanked by twelve guards. Me: well, I've always been a lone wolf, haven't I? Truth is, I wasn’t afraid to die. Never have been."

"Please, call me Bruce," he replied with a geniality befitting his working class accent. "I'm afraid Miss Mournin’vale didn't tell me your name," he went on, only for a haunting echo to finish the thought.

The stench of bloodstained stone walls and stale fear filled his nose once more. There's a lot of things Miss Mournin’vale didn't tell you, isn't there?

Bruce loosened his cuffs.

"But the nose don't lie. I could smell it on him the moment our eyes met: fear. Him an' all his men. They knew they were up against a thing of legends and nightmares.

“Bruce.”  It slipped awkwardly off the elf’s tongue; a word too stupid and thick for his delicate vernacular, but he was paid the courtesy all the same.  The little lord spread his hands in a gesture of momentary peace.  “Zelion Mournvalor.  Charmed, I’m sure.”

The Lord’s soldiers nickered and rumbled like stallions, the rattle of metal on metal as loud as their jangling nerves.  The ballroom cleared, they formed a quivering line behind Zelion.  The lord’s knights had grown fat and complacent, casualties waiting to happen.

"Let's talk," Bruce called across the room.

“But... it weren’t fear which plunged my heart like a knife. It was that this-- this pretty, petty asshole should know so much more about Kallarel than I ever would. And that I should be reduced to grovelin’ at his feet for answers.”

“Certainly… Bruce. And what is it you would care to talk about?”

He took a few steps forward.

“How Miss Mourningvale enabled the downfall of my family estate?”  Zelion tipped his head towards his right shoulder.  “How she stole and bastardized my family name?”  And then to his left before straightening with a raising of his chin.  “How she murdered my mother and father?”

"She did you a favor. They looked like a roight coupla pricks."

"S'alrigh," Bruce went on, stopping a conversational distance from the elf. "I come from pricks too. You knew her growin' up then? Did ya call 'er auntie Kallarel?"

Zelion’s chin tilted at the implication, upwards and defiant as this woeful creature dared to suggest a commonality between them.  “No, though I suppose I might have called her girl in passing, once or twice… but father didn’t make a habit of introducing us to his whores.”  

Bruce’s eyes narrowed. “If that’s all she is to you, why all the trouble? Why send assassins?”

“Assassins? Oh, no my hounds weren’t sent to kill, but to fetch.  Well, her.  Failing to kill you was an oversight already paid for.”

"You haven't paid for it yet," Bruce replied with some amusement. “I'm gonna break your pre'y lil nose for calling my girlfriend a whore."

Zelion batted his eyes.  “Oh?”

“I know there's things Kallarel will never tell me. You showed me that when you opened the way to that damnable basement in her old shop.”

"Is that where she got a taste for huntin' men for sport?" the Gilnean guessed, unbuttoning his black embroidered vest.. "Your asshole dad?"

“Of course not,” the dainty elf answered, taking a keen interest in the infection bubbling around Bruce’s clumsily placed crystal as he continued to disrobe.  In turn, Zelion removed his chain of state, taking time to ensure it was properly folded at each connecting point before dropping it into his coat pocket for safe keeping. “But even a filthy satyr in a dead slut’s skin needs to feed.”

@daily-writing-challenge

[twoidiotwriters1]

Almighty (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: Apollo is here and I couldn't be happier I love him -Danny Words: 2,554 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter // Next Chapter Listen to: 'Paul Revere' -by Noah Kahan

VIII: Dang Bitch, You Live Like This?

Ara stares at him in shock. "Come again?"

"He's the god Apollo." The little girl replies, eyeing her sword with massive interest.

"If you really are Apollo, tell me something only he would know." It's no secret that Ara's looking for the sun god, so asking for proof makes sense.

The boy cleans his bloody nose and thinks hard, looking rather pathetic. "Your boyfriend gave me a Valdezinator that sounds exactly like the piece Michael wrote to heal people."

The demigod lowers her sword immediately and urges them forward. "Go in."

Ara opens the door to her apartment and speaks over her shoulder. "Stay here. Do not leave." She rushes to the kitchen where Sally and Percy are laughing. Ara clears her throat and Percy smiles at her. 

"Birdy—"

"Apollo's at the door," she announces quickly. "I think he's mortal."

Percy stops smiling. "What?"

"I can't leave him outside, so they're coming in," Ara walks back to the entrance. "He's got a little girl with him, Percy, so don't be scary!"

He follows her to the door. Ara opens it and curtsies. "Come in, my lord."

"Appreciated," the boy drags himself into the apartment, the young girl following close.

"Who's your friend?" Percy stares at the girl.

"This is Meg McCaffrey, a demigod who must be taken to Camp Half-Blood. She rescued me from street thugs."

"Rescued..." Percy glances at his sister. "You mean the 'beat-up teenager' look isn't just a disguise? Dude, what happened to you?"

"I may have mentioned the street thugs."

"But you're a god."

"About that... I was a god."

"Prove it," Ara demands. The boy pulls out an ID with his picture and the name Lester Papadopoulos. "Zeus is really angry at you, huh?"

Apollo scoffs but he doesn't argue. "Oh! Before I forget, my dear muse," he flashes her a weak smile. "I'm fairly certain we're being followed by malicious spirits."

"What?" Ara locks the door a second time. "Why didn't you say that before I brought you up to my mother's apartment?!"

"Well, you must ensure my safety, and you will take care of this, won't you?" Apollo questions off-handedly.

Percy inches closer and whispers. "Can't believe he came looking for you..."

"I'm a hero now, of course he would look for me," she grumbles.

"Yeah, but—"

"Sacred Sibyl!" Apollo—Lester—gasps when their mother comes out of the kitchen. "Madam, there is something wrong with your midsection!"

"Well, I'm seven months pregnant," Sally stops in her tracks.

"How can you bear it?" The god moans in despair. "My mother, Leto, suffered through a long pregnancy, but only because Hera cursed her. Are you cursed?"

"Um, Apollo? She's not cursed," Percy steps in. "And can you not mention Hera?"

"You poor woman." Apollo sighs. "A goddess would never allow herself to be so encumbered. She would give birth as soon as she felt like it."

"Let's focus on your issues, my lord." So we can get rid of you faster.

Percy clears his throat. "Mom, this is Apollo and his friend Meg. Guys, this is our mom."

"Call me Sally." She examines Apollo's injured face. "Dear, that looks painful. What happened? I tell you what—Percy can help you get bandaged and cleaned up." 

"I can?" Percy asks with annoyance. 

Ara elbows him before gesturing at Apollo. "This way, lord..."

"Ara, you give Meg your old clothes, pre-growth spurt," Sally says bemusedly.

The girl nods. "Sure. Come along, Meg."

"What are we gonna do?"

"I'll take care of it."

"Ara..."

"Before you say anything, remember I'm turning sixteen this year," she glares at him. "You fought your prophecy when you were my age."

"Yeah, I..." Percy blinks as if just realizing that she's right. "Gods, you're turning sixteen already?"

"This is Mike's father we're talking about," Ara brushes that aside. "The song I use to heal people? Michael wrote it. I do this for him, Percy, I have to help."

He pauses, some kind of understanding that isn't helping him feel better dawns upon him, and causes his shoulders to slump. The door to their bathroom opens and Apollo comes out of it, sheepish but clean. "What happened to you, man?" Percy grimaces. "The war ended in August. It's January."

"It is?"

Ara and Percy share a look. "I knew this would happen," she sighs. "I saw how Zeus treated you, I knew he was going to punish you."

"I—I don't know where I've been," Apollo fidgets with his shirt. "I have some memory gaps."

Percy wrinkles his nose. "I hate memory gaps. Last year I lost an entire semester thanks to Hera."

"It's normal," Ara tries to ease the god. "Either your consciousness is trying to adjust to a mortal brain, or Zeus took it on purpose so it's harder for you to return."

"Well, that's why I've come to you!" Apollo smiles. "I can't do it, but surely the daughter of Olympus can fix this! It's your job!"

Ara frowns. "I'd rather not test the King of the gods by helping his currently hormonal teenage son that he's trying to punish, besides, I have never turned anyone into a god."

"We can drive you and Meg to camp if that's what you want," Percy offers. "We never turn away a demigod who needs help—"

"Wonderful! Do you have something besides the Prius? A Maserati, perhaps? I'd settle for a Lamborghini."

Percy ignores that. "Apollo, I can't get involved in another Big Prophecy or whatever. I've made promises."

"Promises?"

"I lost most of my junior year because of the war with Gaea. I've spent this entire fall playing catch-up with my classes. If I want to go to college with Annabeth next fall, I have to stay out of trouble and get my diploma."

"Annabeth." Apollo squints. "She's the blond scary one?"

"That's her. I promised her specifically that I wouldn't get myself killed while she's gone." 

"Gone?"

"She's in Boston for a few weeks. Some family emergency. The point is—"

"You're saying you cannot offer me your undivided service to restore me to my throne?" 

"Yeah." He pointed at the bedroom doorway. "Besides, my mom's pregnant. We're going to have a baby sister. I'd like to be around to get to know her."

"Well, I understand that. I remember when Artemis was born—"

"Aren't you twins?"

"I've always regarded her as my little sister."

Percy glances at his sister. I need this guy out of here. "Anyway, my mom's got that going on, and her first novel is going to be published this spring as well, so I'd like to stay alive long enough to—"

"Wonderful! Remind her to burn the proper sacrifices. Calliope is quite touchy when novelists forget to thank her."

"Okay. But what I'm saying... I can't go off on another world-stomping quest. I can't do that to my family. I've already given my mom enough heart attacks for one lifetime. She's just about forgiven me for disappearing last year, but I swore to her and Paul that I wouldn't do anything like that again."

Percy and Apollo turn to her. Ara shrugs. "Yeah well, no parents are freaking out about me. They know I have to obey, and I'm a triple-R: Resilient radioactive roach."

"Do you think he counts, though?" Percy squints.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, look at him."

"You do understand that I must find a way to return to Olympus," Apollo sounds slightly offended. "This will probably involve many harrowing trials with a high chance of death. Can you turn down such glory?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure I can," Percy replies impatiently. "And Ara should too, if you're not a god anymore, that means she doesn't work for you."

"Percy!"

"What? It's the truth. Your second semester is only getting started, this guy shouldn't be distracting you."

The thing is, she wants a distraction. Ara can't stand another week of normalcy while her demigod life crumbles and gets more and more confusing. She has to fix things, and now she has a path to follow in the shape of a weak-looking deity.

"It wouldn't be wise to give him an advantage Zeus might not want for him," she leans on the wall. "But I can't say no just to be punished later. I won't decide anything until I figure it out."

"You will at least escort us to Camp Half-Blood?" Apollo asks sorely.

"That we can do." Percy gets up and pats Ara's shoulder. "Let's see if Meg's ready for a field trip." 

"Percy, your mom is so normal."

"Thanks, I guess." 

"I see you like to study," Apollo looks at the manuals on the coffee table. "Well done."

"I hate to study," Percy snorts. "I've been guaranteed admission with a full scholarship to New Rome University, but they're still requiring me to pass all my high school courses and score well on the SAT. Can you believe that? Not to mention I have to pass the DSTOMP."

"The what?" Meg wrinkles her nose.

"An exam for Roman demigods. The Demigod Standard Test of Mad Powers," Apollo explains.

"That's what it stands for?" Percy raises a brow.

"I should know. I wrote the music and poetry analysis sections."

"I will never forgive you for that," Her brother scoffs. "Ara's doing her best to help me out, but the truth is—"

"We're both equally dumb and painfully dyslexic," Ara grabs a cookie.

"So you're really demigods? Like me?" Meg asks, shifting around the couch with barely controlled energy.

"Afraid so. My dad is the godly one—Poseidon. Ara was born an Aphrodite but now she's the daughter of the gods, which means they all get to mistreat her as much as they please."

"Gee, you really know how to sell it," Ara mutters.

"What about your parents?" Percy asks the little girl.

Meg stares at her hands. "Never knew them... much."

Percy tilts his head. "Foster home? Stepparents?" Meg turns away from him. "Sorry. Didn't mean to pry. I'm just asking 'cause Ara's adopted, and most demigods got similar stories."

"I'm adopted?!" Ara gasps. Percy punches her arm lightly.

Meg looks up at the girl with the same amazed gaze as before. "You are?"

"You're twelve, aren't you?" Ara smiles. "I was your age when I got adopted. If you've been alone all this time, you must be tough." Meg blushes, looking away from her. She glows a bright leaf green that pulls Ara's air out of her lungs. It's identical to Mike's.

"So how did you guys meet?" Percy asks Apollo.

Apollo breaks it down for them: he landed on a dumpster, got jumped on an alleyway, and Meg saved him. While they talk, Sally brings more and more food and Ara watches Apollo and Meg shove fistful after fistful into their mouths. "Percy," Apollo moans as he finishes his plate. "Your mom is awesome."

"I know, right?" Percy cleans his mouth messily. "So back to your story... you have to be Meg's servant now? You guys barely know each other."

"Barely is generous. Nevertheless, yes. My fate is now linked with young McCaffrey." 

"We are cooperating," Meg says with satisfaction.

Ara rubs her forehead, nursing a headache while she listens. She's not really in pain, headaches aren't really aches but a strange pulsing behind her eyes, like a light that she keeps trying to put into focus, not painful, but dizzying. It usually happens when she spends too much time remembering things—and it gets stronger whenever she tries to recall her regressions. They're getting blurrier as time goes on.

"So, just to recap," Percy repeats. "You have to be Meg's servant for...?"

"Some unknown amount of time. Probably a year. Possibly more."

"And during that time—"

"I will undoubtedly face many trials and hardships."

"Like getting me my cows," Meg pipes in.

Apollo's jaw clenches. "What those trials will be, I do not yet know. But if I suffer through them and prove I am worthy, Zeus will forgive me and allow me to become a god again. I need time to get my bearings. Once we get to Camp Half-Blood, I can consult with Chiron. I can figure out which of my godly powers remain with me in this mortal form—and if the daughter of Olympus is allowed to serve me."

Percy runs a hand through his hair. "Any idea what kind of spirits are following you?"

"Shiny blobs," Meg responds. "They were shiny and sort of... blobby."

"Those are the worst kind." Percy nods solemnly.

"I've no idea what that could be," Ara mumbles.

"It hardly matters," Apollo brushes it off. "Whatever they are, we have to flee. Once we reach camp, the magical borders will protect me."

"You and Meg, you mean," Ara raises a brow. "I'm not fully certain you didn't kidnap her so we would take pity on you."

Percy realizes something. "Apollo, if you're really mortal, like, one hundred percent mortal, can you even get in to Camp Half-Blood?"

"Please don't say that," Apollo whines. "Of course I'll get in. I have to."

"But you could get hurt in battle now... Then again, maybe monsters would ignore you because you're not important?"

"Maybe he won't taste good in the state he is," Ara examines his looks. "Barely any meat..."

"Stop! I'm sure I've retained some powers, I'm still gorgeous, for instance, if I could just get rid of this acne and lose some flab. I must have other abilities!"

Ara and Percy share a look again, then they turn to Meg. "What about you?" Percy asks. "I hear you throw a mean garbage bag. Any other skills we should know about? Summoning lightning? Making toilets explode?"

Meg grins. "That's not a power."

"Sure it is," Percy replies sweetly. "Some of the best demigods have gotten their start by blowing up toilets." Meg's soul light comes back again as she giggles. Ara smiles too, Percy has that effect on... well, pretty much everyone. Even her, though her affection has always been molded to be platonic.

"How soon can we leave?" Apollo presses, not liking how he's not the center of attention.

Percy shrugs. "Right now, I guess. If you're being followed, I'd rather have monsters on our trail than sniffing around the apartment—I just have to be back tonight, and I'm taking Ara. Got a lot of studying. The first two times I took the SAT—ugh. If it wasn't for Annabeth and Birdy helping me out—"

"Who's that?"

"Annabeth's my girlfriend and Birdy's what I call Ara." Meg's soul light dies instantly. That is probably the fastest falling out Ara's seen when it comes to Percy, even faster than Lily's.

"So take a break!" Apollo claps. "Your brain will be refreshed after an easy drive to Long Island."

"Huh," Percy squints. "There's a lazy kind of logic to that. Okay. Let's do it." Sally comes in with a badge of cookies and the boy raises his hands as if about to calm a dangerous creature. "Mom, don't freak..."

Sally's expression drops. "I hate it when you say that."

"We're just going to take these two to camp. That's all. We'll be right back."

"I think I've heard that before."

"I promise," Percy seizes Ara's hand and squeezes. "We'll be back."

"At least one of us will," Ara replies sarcastically, earning a harsh elbow on the ribs.

"All right. Be careful. It was lovely meeting you both. Please try not to die." Percy kisses his mother's cheek and tries to get a cookie. "Oh, no! Apollo and Meg can have one, but I'm keeping the rest hostage until you're back safely. And hurry, it would be a shame if Paul ate them all when he gets home."

"You hear that, guys? A batch of cookies is depending on us," Percy scowls. "If you get any of us killed on the way to camp, I am going be ticked off."

Ara hums, trying not to look too pleased about having a quest. "I'll get my Octopus."

Next Chapter –>

Taglist.

@siriuslysirius1107 @ask-giggles1303 @im-planning-something-look @bandshirts-andbooks @coolninjapaper @thewaterlily @whenisthefall @1randomcomic @you-bloody-shank @sunflowergraves @owlalex44 @taylordaughter @typicalsolangelolover @writingmia @espressopatronum454 @slytherinnqueen @orbitingpolaris @obxstiles @ellipsisspelled @thepixiechicksh @ebony-reine-vibes

[rrachnid]

" with great power comes gr - f ⭒ ck !! i'm late for rent again . . . "

( ji hansol , for rejects hq . ) what's up, silver ?! ji hansol , jake , geomi . twenty three on the verge of turning twenty four . expert at staying up late to work on my latest ( and brightest ! ) idea . most definitely the guy in the friend group you'd host an intervention for ( my mom totally agrees that it's part of my charm , by the way . )

⭒ DOSSIER ⭒ ABILITIES ⭒ BACKSTORY ⭒ PLOTS ⭒ TAGLIST ⭒ REJECTS ⭒

you ever brain rot on a muse so hard you feel like your excited might just force you to implode ?! yeah . . . same here !!!! i'm tenzen, and i'm so eager to shove hansol down everyone's dash!!! ^0^ i am been WAITING and dreaming to write a spider mark and i hope that you all can truly forgive my unoriginality with this one but what was i supposed to do? simply ignore this blessing???? aaaanyways... here's the intro, which also serves as a tldr because i yapped a LOT in my backstory !! additionally, please like this post if you would like me to reach out for plotting !! if you'd like to add me on discord since it's easier to plot there, please let me know!

THE BASICS !! ⭒ born in vancouver, canada, on one of the hottest summer days ever - which is ironic, truly, considering how bad he hates the weather. ⭒ mostly known as jake, though he always secretly preferred to be called hansol. ⭒ though he knew of the gene, he still happened to be a late bloomer: got it in the middle of math class, spurted silky web threads all over the hair of his crush and became a social reject after that! ⭒ his ability is arachnid physiology, by the way. ⭒ which, as you can imagine, didn't do well with people considering that spiders are apparently enemy number one of the state! ⭒ regardless, he somehow got through high school: the lack of party invites forced him to focus more on his studies, which ultimately made him graduate with honours. ⭒ and there was the scholarship too - thank god for it, considering how broke his parents were. ⭒ ( real nice folks, by the way. ) ⭒ so went to college in software engineering and his parents moved back to south korea. it was fine, totally. got amazing grades until he started to slip ( which coincidentally happened when he began to play superhero with his friends at night. ⭒ and instead of studying, naturally, he thought it would be a good idea to hack into his grade portals to turn his d's into a's. ⭒ like, honestly, it worked for a month or two. until someone noticed, until he got expelled. ⭒ though truthfully, he honestly didn't care much for school anyways. his only ever felt real drive when perched over his desk at night, working on engineering his own suit: he would get scraps he'd find in mechanical engineering labs, he would spend nights dissecting little gadgets and incorporating them in his suits. he would spend a lot of time with spiders, too - though he hated them at first, he grew to love them. they were like him in more ways than one. so he would study them until he could fully and truly become them.

⭒ he spent the next year or so in vancouver doing just that: engineering his suit, swinging around buildings, and fighting petty ( and not so petty ! ) crimes behind his mask. ⭒ he also conveniently forgot to tell his parents about the whole college thing. ( they always sounded so proud and happy on the phone: did he HAVE to disappoint them ?! )

THE PRESENT . . . ISH !!

⭒ he rushes to south korea upon hearing that his mother is sick : they tell him that it isn't bad over the phone, but when he first visits her, he can see how much she has wilted in the cold hospital bed. ⭒ he doesn't hate seoul because it sucks - he hates it because he can feel it reject him. it doesn't feel like vancouver : he doesn't know each and every corner of the city, he doesn't understand the intricacies of it. ⭒ his parents are still under the impression that he attends school in software engineering, that he has a stable job, that he isn't late on rent every . single . month . ⭒ it takes him a hot minute to adjust, but soon enough he finds himself swinging between the tall buildings of the city. people begin to recognize him here and there, and while most of them talk about him like he is a nuisance (considering the damage he often causes when fighting crime), he still does some good. ⭒ maybe it isn't so bad, after all. maybe with time, it will get better. he has always preferred to be called hansol, anyways.

[brainrotlesbian]

Trubshaw, Sr. Part 2

Part 1 here: https://www.tumblr.com/brainrotlesbian/732216943553232896/trubshaw-sr

CW: chained, gagged, physical violence

He didn’t know how long he’d been hanging there. Weeks? Months? Years? Time all blurred together, meaninglessly. He was exhausted, the headache never-ending and growing in intensity. It was the same routine: wake up still chained, sometimes gagged, and be beaten by Mr. Trout and Mr. Pickles. Occasionally, Snatcher himself would do the himself, followed by insistence that he build him a death machine.

And every time, he would refuse. He couldn’t be made to destroy an entire species like that. But still, he was starving, and would only be given food if he cooperated. He knew he couldn’t give in, and yet—

Crack.

Herbert Trubshaw screamed as a fist connected with his face, breaking his nose. Blood spurted from his nostrils, causing him to choke and gag on it as it filled his windpipe. He coughed, unable to spit out the gag in his mouth, or the blood that filled it.

“Come on, Trubshaw, all you gotta do is agree to build my device, and this will stop,” Snatcher mused. “I’ll even get you some jelly! I know how much you liked jelly.”

“Mmm… nnph.” He shook his head, tasting the metallic tang of blood in his mouth, soaking into his gag.

He thought of his son, his boy. His baby. How old would he be now? He wasn’t sure. Was he safe? Was he still alive? Oh, he regretted the way things had played out. He wished he could be there with his son, protecting him. Raising him. Teaching him to be inventive, compassionate, kind, and understanding.

But, no. He couldn’t do that now. Not hanging upside down, chained and gagged, beaten within an inch of his life. He was breaking.

Jelly. Snatcher had mentioned jelly, and oh, how he loved jelly. He longed for a taste of it, rather than the dirty cloth shoved in his mouth, or the blood trickling down his throat. He groaned miserably.

“Are you breaking, Mr. Trubshaw?” Snatcher asked. “Tired of this?”

“Nnnuuuhhhh.” He was exhausted. He hurt. He was starving. He couldn’t take it anymore. “Plll— pfffff…”

“Is that a ‘no, stop, please, Mr. Snatcher, I’ll do whatever you want?’, Mr. Trubshaw?” Snatcher growled. “If not—”

“Mmmff!” He squirmed, choking further on the blood that never stopped flowing.

“Do you want me to stop? And do you agree to help me?”

Trubshaw nodded, tears flowing down his upside-down face. Snatcher’s face lit up, in a horribly grotesque way. His crooked, rotting teeth glinted in the dim light of the factory. He’d just made a horrible mistake, but he had no choice. It was cow to Snatcher’s demands, or die.

[sanjoongie]

FFF~ Day 18

♡Pairing: Park Seonghwa x Reader (f)

♡Genre: Smut with no plot :)

♡Au: apocalypse, god

♡Word Count: 2,676

♡Warnings: fem dom (m sub), seonghwa is a simp will always be a simp k thanks, Oral (f receiving, hair pulling, praise kink, begging, m and f orgasm

♡Rated: 18+ MDNI

♡Masterlist link~ | Previous Day~ Daddy, JYH | Next Day~ Double Penetration, KYS/KHJ

♡Dedication~@downtoamagicalland & @mejuii the unholy trinity beta team

The world you know does not exist anymore. The human race has been driven underground to escape from the machines that have taken over the world. Their numbers have dwindled, and they are at risk of dying off completely. But there is a solution, or so Park Seonghwa seems to think.

He is the high priest to one of the only religions that humans have clung to: fertility. If only they could breed like they used to! They'd have a fighting chance at getting back to the surface and reclaiming their world. So Seonghwa prays day and night, eyes unfocused and the skin around bruised with the lack of rest. All he wants is to be able to inspire passion back into the lost souls that flock around him.

But you never answer him.

"Oh Goddess of children, Goddess of love, Goddess of passion, I beg you, listen to my prayer!"

Seonghwa is desperate to reach out to you! So he prays the only way he knows… he masturbates to the Goddess. His long robes frame his body as he kneels to the moon. There is a porthole that lets in the moonlight and stars, and it is the only light he lets touch his skin. His hand is wrapped around his cock, jerking up and down, head thrown back in the pleasure of it all.

"Fulfill us! Make us full of your love once again! Allow us the gift of children!" His eyebrows furrowed together in a reverent manner. "Fulfill me! If only you would visit me. I am full of desire. I could be your muse!" His voice is desperate.

Seonghwa can't explain it, but he knows you're always watching him. Sometimes, in the aftermath of his orgasm after he prays, he swears he can feel your touch on his shoulder or your teasing laughter in his ear. He smells vanilla and sex in the air, and then it's gone. But Seonghwa knows in his heart of hearts, as long as he prays to you, and shows you his devotion, one day you will visit him.

Seonghwa, with a great throaty cry, comes upon the tiny patch of grass that grows due to the porthole to the overworld. His seed spurts on the ground, but he wishes it was buried inside of you. He lets his heart pang with disappointment once again that you did not deign him worthy to appear, and he moves to clean himself up after prayer.

~~~

You watched Seonghwa from the basin that acted as your window to the mortal realm. The goddess of wisdom and the goddess of war lounged behind you, eating delicacies no longer of the human realm.

“That poor priest,” the goddess of wisdom clucked her tongue behind you, “All that work, and you still won’t visit him. Not even in a dream!”

You rolled your eyes. “He’s not going to wither away without me.”

“No but he might stop praying to you soon,” The goddess of war said pointedly.

You wrinkled your nose. “It’s different for you.”

“I’ve already visited mine,” the goddess of war waved her hand, “Multiple times, I might add. He says that I inspire him for victory when he fights the machines.”

The goddess of wisdom giggled. “Mine just asks for wisdom, so I tell him I’ll give it to him as long as he makes me come.”

You sighed, “Yeah but yours pray normally. Mine…” Yeah, you still weren’t sure about Seonghwa deciding that the best way to lure you in was to masturbate for you.

The goddess of war put a firm hand on your shoulder. “You know what happens to goddesses that lose their followers.”

You shuddered. If the people stopped believing in you, you would go back to the void, much like it had been before the machine’s had taken over. You did not want that. 

“Tomorrow,” you vowed.

The goddess of war and wisdom exchanged a sneaky glance and bet each other whether you actually would visit Seonghwa or not. It was a game for them now.

~~~

Seonghwa prayed to you once again, this time for no reason, eager to rub one out in your name. He had been daydreaming all day of what your form truly was like. You probably had lush thighs, wide hips for childbearing, huge breasts to carry milk--his cock rose at these simple thoughts of you. So when he decided to pray, he let out a loud moan as his hand wrapped around his cock. 

“Please, Goddess of Pleasure, please visit me,” He whined, “I would pay homage to you in all the ways you deserve.”

“You seem to be doing fine on your own,” You said sarcastically.

Seonghwa’s eyes flew open, and he could not believe what he was seeing. There you were, the goddess he had dedicated his life to, before him. He let go of himself and reached out to touch the hem of your gown on the floor before him. He snatched back his hand as if he had been burnt because you were no illusion, but flesh and blood before him.

You smirked down at him. “Surprised that I finally showed up?”

Seonghwa shook his head. “No, my goddess, I am grateful that you are here and not merely a projection of yourself.”

“Well, it seems like all the other goddesses are throwing around their favors. I’m sure Hongjoong and Jongho told you about their experiences,” You pursed your mouth to the side in annoyance.

Seonghwa nodded. “They did, but you have been so elusive. I thought perhaps we were unworthy of receiving the gift of children.”

You sighed, sounding exactly like a bored goddess. “We have to give you hope. Otherwise, you might stop praying. It’s a job, but it’s my job nonetheless to inspire you. So here I am.” You threw your arms open wide to underline your sentence.

“I would never give up on you!” Seonghwa insisted, fists clinging to the skirts of your dress now.

You waved off his distress. “Oh please, I’m sure you would have made up another goddess and started praying to her. It’s a habit of you humans.”

Seonghwa rubbed his cheek against your thigh, sighing at the soft material under him, nothing like the dirty and rough fabrics they had now. “You are my one and only, my goddess.”

You lifted his chin to look up at you. "I cannot be. If I give you the gift of fertility, you must spread it amongst your followers."

Seonghwa stood, following your hand obediently. "I don't want to think about anyone else but you right now."

You sighed softly. "Good thing I interrupted your prayer, hmm?"

Seonghwa smiled tenderly and shook his head. "I'm not the high priest for nothing."

You arched an eyebrow at him. "Hopefully, you know better than to lie to a goddess, Seonghwa."

"How many times do you wish to come? I can come for you as little or a lot as you wish. I am yours." Seonghwa bowed his head in subservience. 

"Pray to me, Seonghwa." You put a hand on his chest and pushed him back. You lifted your skirts and looked at him expectantly. "I expect a lot from you since you are my high priest."

Seonghwa's eyes sparkled at the idea that you claimed him. He was yours. That made him feel special in of itself. "I will not disappoint, my goddess."

Seonghwa used both of his thumbs to spread your pussy lips and licked your clit. His eyes did not break your gaze as he watched your breath hitch at the feel of the wet appendage on your sex. He circled your clit, flicking it randomly to watch you react with a direct connection. You were extremely responsive and he soon grew addicted to making you gasp as he played with your clit. But this was not a good position for him to pray to you the way he'd like to.

Seonghwa removed his robe and laid it on the floor. "Please, recline on my robe. I cannot offer you fine furnishings but you should not dirty your dress."

You couldn't help but laugh under your breath. Seonghwa really was besotted with you. "My robes cannot be dirtied, Seonghwa. I'm a goddess. But I shall repay you for your thought of kindness."

You gingerly settled onto Seonghwa's robe but removed your dress completely. "Pray to me at my temple, High Priest. And when you're finished, I will bestow upon you the favor of children."

Seonghwa nodded quickly. "Yes, my goddess."

He wrapped his arms around your thighs and began to pleasure you. You had to give him this: he knew what to do with his tongue. He licked at your hole first, like he wanted to taste you first and foremost. He moaned into your cunt when his tongue touched you. He dived in deeper, thrusting his tongue into your hole. You gasped, surprised that it could reach that far inside of you. Seonghwa’s eyes rolled up to watch you. You decided to put on a show, cupping your breasts and tossing your head backwards. Seonghwa, encouraged by your responses, thrusted his tongue into you at a faster pace, his nose brushing your clit now.

You dug your fingers into Seonghwa’s scalp, gripping him sharply and pulling him back. Seonghwa whimpered in the back of his throat. "You're good at this, Seonghwa. A little too good at this," you growled.

Eager pleas quickly fell from Seonghwa’s mouth, pink from lick-fucking your cunt. "Please, my goddess, I've only just started. You taste heavenly and your moans are like music to my ears. Let me please you."

You pushed his face into your pussy and he whined at the smell of you. He pursed his pretty lips to suck on your clit and you groaned. "You know, Seonghwa," You said as you pushed his hair out of his face, "Us goddesses are very territorial. If you do good, I might not want to share you with the rest of humanity. If you make me come hard enough, I might want to keep you all to myself."

Seonghwa’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, as if your words were giving him physical pleasure. His head was squeezed by your thighs and you bucked up into his mouth as he sucked your clit. He licked at like it was a sweet candy that he couldn't get enough of. He was truly dedicated in his worship, of that you were certain.

You were quick to come to your orgasm, hips lifting off the ground as your back arched, and you cried out in ecstasy. Pleasure stroked all your nerves in the right way. "That's it, my little human, give me all your prayers," you murmured into the sex-scent filled air.

Seonghwa sat up, a genuine happy smile picking up his cheeks. His face was covered in your slick, and he made no move to remove it. So you leaned over and licked it off his skin. He moaned when you kissed him, the taste of yourself in his tongue still. When you broke the kiss, Seonghwa’s eyes were blown out with desire.

"You seem both nothing and everything like I imagined," He whispered fervently. 

Your eyes zeroed in on the cock that was straining out of his pants and colored yourself impressed. That was quite the impression he was giving. Seonghwa smiled, proud of your attention to him. "That's also the other reason they made me the high priest. Surely you blessed me with such a long tongue and long cock. I was made to pleasure a woman."

You shook your head. "No, Seonghwa, you were made to pleasure a goddess."

Seonghwa removed his baggy pants, letting them drop to the floor and neatly stepped out of them. There wasn't an imperfection on him. He was the perfect candidate to be your high priest. Along with those big brown eyes that seemed to shine with the stars in them, he was made to be yours.

"I am ready for your gift, My Goddess."

You laid back on your side now. You coyly smirked over your shoulder. "Come and get it then."

Seonghwa straddled your leg against the ground and then curled your other leg around his side. When he pushed inside of you, he panted as each inch slipped inside of you. His eyes were screwed shut in concentration.

"Something wrong?" You goaded him.

"So…warm…so…tight…so…wet…" Seonghwa was clearly fighting with how well your pussy was sucking him in. 

"Can you handle it, Seonghwa?" You continued to tease him.

"I can I can I can," he chanted.

"You sure?" He couldn't see, but you were biting down on your lip as he bottomed out. 

His eyes flew open at the tiny threat that you would take your pussy away from him. "I can," he said with more conviction.

"Show me, Hwa," You encouraged him. He waved his body against yours. "That's it, show me what you can do for me, my High Priest."

His fingers dug into the flesh of your thighs as he fucked into you. He whined at the feel of you around him. "So good, so good, I've wanted this for so long, it's so good."

"Gonna fuck me good, Seonghwa? You gonna make me come before you do?"

Seonghwa’s eyebrows furrowed. "Please."

You laughed under your breath, switching positions to straddle him. You took over, putting Seonghwa out of his misery. You rode his cock, eager to chase your own pleasure. You grabbed his hands and placed them on your breasts, encouraging him to squeeze and enjoy your body. 

"Goddess," he hissed.

"You don't need to ask for me, Seonghwa, I'm right here," you smiled.

"Please, bless me with the gift of your orgasm. Take whatever you want from me, I am yours, completely, utterly, forever." 

You pulled him upwards, hand curling around the nape of his neck. "I give this gift to you, Seonghwa, High Priest of Fertility. I give you the gift of the orgasm of a goddess so you may spread the wealth amongst your people."

You worked your hips against his, slotting your lips over his, until you came loudly and gutterly. You fed the blessing of a goddess into him, and then Seonghwa came. His eyes rolled into the the back of his head, and he moaned so deliciously you decided it was your new favorite sound. 

"Such a good priests for me, little human," You praised him, "You did so good for me."

Seonghwa panted against your mouth, the small puffs of air hitting your bruised lips from the kiss. "Did…I?"

You fondly kissed his forehead. "Perfectly."

You separated from his body and Seonghwa collapsed on the ground. "I just…wanna be… perfect for… you."

You smiled to yourself. He was cute for a human. "You are free to pass my gift to your followers. I hold you to no possession. Humans need a chance for hope for the future."

"Thank you, my Goddess." Seonghwa calmed his heart down, a happy smile on his face. Then he realized what you had said. "Wait!" He sat back up, eyes wide, but you were already gone.

Seonghwa raked his hand through his hair in frustration. He would do as instructed; he would spread his seed to his followers so that there would be children. But he would spend every night praying to you, hoping and wishing for the chance to be between your thighs once again.

♡Masterlist link~ | Previous Day~ Daddy, JYH | Next Day~ Double Penetration, KYS/KHJ

[therosebunpost]

Paint your face 

Warnings/Info you should know going in: SMUT! 18+ only, lest I bonk you on the head with a pole, Oral (M/F receiving) insecurities being talked about (Reader worries about accidentally hurting Steve when giving him head) Fem!Reader with implied facial differences, Hints to Bi!Steve if you squint

----

Part of my Regret Series with Steve x Disabled! Disfigured! Reader, but can be read as a Stand alone story.

--

"...Face paint?" Steve muttered, picking up the acrylic case of colors with interest. 

"I want to do more colorful looks." You explain, settling down in front of your vanity. It was mostly unused, well, until now. "And it seems like a pretty inexpensive option. I mean, look at the size of those color pots." Grabbing a brush, a big bushy thing, you squirt some concealer on it. You washed your face already,  scrubbing to get your skin all soft and raw before going in. 

Steve comes around, settling down next to you. "So, what were you thinking then?" He watches the way you rub at your face, nose scrunching in that way where you know he wants to say something but you ignore him. It was a trust the process kinda thing. 

"You know that dress? The one with the primary flowers?" You offer once you are sufficiently covered in primer. Maybe a little cakey but it just needed some time to settle into your skin. You remember hearing that somewhere. "I kinda wanna do some flowers on my cheeks. I saw someone do that and it looked really cool." 

Steve rest his chin on your shoulder. "That would look pretty." Biting his lip as he eyes your face. "....Don't bite my head off but I think that might be too much." 

You frown, sighing softly. "Maybe some blush? Here, hand me the pallette." You scoop up a makeup sponge and consider the colors before dabbing at one of the pinks. "I've seen some people go mad heavy with the blush." You muse, dabbing at your face like you've seen your mother do. Tapping at your cheek bones, trying not to let your uneven features deter you. Even if one side of your face looks so much pinker then the other. Steve presses his face into your back, swallowing down a giggle. "Honey-"

"Im covering it up! It's like painting!" You counter before he can finish, grabbing at your brush and concealer. You press at the bottle but only small spurts of cream lands on the bristles. "Shit-" You rummage around in your bag, contemplating your mishmash of supplies before picking up the power concealer. You rub it on your face, thankfully dulling the pink. "Painting?" Steve asks and you're happy for the topic. 

"When you paint, like with oils and acrylic," you say while turning your face from side to side, "its all about layering. So that blush was just one layer and now this is the second."

"What about before the blush?"

"That was a base coat. That lays a foundation for the rest to lay on."

"Like a house?"

"Yeah."

You smile at him through the mirror before going back to your face. You pick up a brush, a literal paint brush, and start trying to do your eyelids. But needing your glasses and being half blind made it so your hand kept getting in the way.. 

"Want some help?" Steve asks, shifting around until he was settled in front of you. Hands eagerly reaching for the brush, which you hand over to him in defeat. "I gotta learn how to do this by myself sometime."

"Nah." Steve muses, dipping the brush into the oily paint you chose. "I'll help you." He carefully, delicately, fearlessly grasps your jaw in his hand. His thumb pressing against your chin while his fore finger caresses your affected side so sweetly, you could have purred. "Every morning, whenever you want."

"But Steve-" 

"Shhhh," he grins while feathering the brush over your skin in a tickle, "you'll make me smudge all my hard work." You resist the urge to roll your eyes but your lips curl up into a smile anyway. "Fine." You relax into his touch, melting from the warmth of his hand and the gentle caress of his finger and the brush. 

"Besides, its kinda for me too, y'know?" Steve continues as he tries to blend it like he's seen countless other girls wear. 

"People don't always wear makeup for their partners, Steve-" You groan but he was quick to speak.

"No! I mean, I know. But like, helping you means I get to look at you." Steve explains, tracing his thumb along your cheeks. "I get to make you giggle and hold your face and even do this-" Suddenly he was squishing your cheeks together and you squeal, whacking at his chest which made him laugh. “I’m sorry, you just look so cute!”

“Steve!” You whine and he snickers, kissing the top of your head with a snort. “Lemme do the next eye, I’ll behave.”

You seriously doubted that, but you close your eyes again anyway. You could get used to this, honestly. The warmth of his hand capturing your jaw, the light flutters of his breath on your face, the steady swipe of the brush across your eyelids. It was enough to have you melting into him. 

God, you loved this man. Truly, it felt like he’d stepped right out of one of your novels, but even better, he was real. He was right there in front of you and you relished in that fact with some of your own teasing. You let your hands wander along his thighs, lips turning up in a smirk at his hitch of breath.

“Honey.”

“Mm?” You muse innocently, dragging your hands higher up. The fabric of his jeans stretched across his thighs and you squeezed them. 

“Maybe you have a point, I can’t focus in these conditions.” Steve snarks and you giggle, scooting closer. “But you promised? Whenever I want, right?” You counter and he groans a little when you open your eyes to look up at him. “Please Stevie, m’almost done.” You counter, letting your voice do that breathy thing he likes. The thing that has him folding like a piece of paper. 

“Jesus- Fine, fine, stay still for me though, alright?” Easing you back into a sitting position, he finishes your eyeshadow before going to work on your lipstick. Your mortal enemy. 

Given the shape of your mouth, lipstick never quite looked good on you, at least you didn’t think so. Steve disagreed, gleefully picking out his favorite color on you and going to town on your lips. He wasn’t great at applying it, but he’d get better with time. “Y’gotta blot it afterwards.” You mumble after a moment, praying to the heavens you didn’t look clownish. 

“Blot?”

“Like, you gotta take some of it off.” You try to explain, reaching for a napkin but Steve was faster. Capturing your chin, he laid a sweet kiss onto your lips. Then another one, and then one more for good measure. “Like that?”

You eye the lipstick on his lips. The color was smudged and kissed on, but he looked so cute that you kind of loved it on him. “Yeah, like that.” 

“Hell yeah, that’s going to be my favorite part.” He giggles and you join him while reaching out for the paint brushes. Though he’s quick to intervene, huffing. “Hey! I’m not done?”

“Steve, I can paint the flowers-“

“Please? You can paint them next time.” Steve counters and you relent, also folding easily when he gave you those puppy dog eyes.

Steve wasn’t an artist by any means, but he has a steady hand as he paints. You direct him, pointing out the colors you wanted and even showing him how to mix certain colors until they matched your dress perfectly. The garment was laid out on the bed, for both your reference. 

“Okay, I think I’m done?” Steve offers, setting the brush down and grabbing the mirror instead. “What do you think?”

Honestly, it wasn’t that bad. The lipstick was only a little smeared, the eyeshadow patchy but doable. The flowers were actually pretty accurate and you had a feeling Steve would catch on with time. 

“I think it’s good for the first time.” You admit and Steve blooms under the praise. His smile lit up the room. “Do you…do you really want to help me with this when I want to wear it?” You ask, truly feeling him out on the offer. Sure, it was easy to offer it up now, but he could just be sweetly joking. 

“Yeah.” Steve assures, helping you pack away your things. “Baby, I don’t mind. It���s like..oh, it’s like when you help me with my tie in the morning. Or when you hair spray my hair when my arms won’t lift up all the way after a work out.”

“Yeah, but like, it’s…it’s not really a guy thing.” You counter, unsure why you’re even using that as an argument. Makeup was just makeup, you didn’t care who wore it, but the words spilled out before you could think. 

Steve pauses at that, eyeing the makeup. “Do you…really not want my help?” His voice is soft, eyes meeting yours as he wavers between sadness and resolve. You wilt, quickly shaking your head and getting close to him. 

“I’d love your help.” You take his hand and squeeze. “I’m sorry, I just…A lot of people do it by themselves and I’m frustrated that I can’t do it, and I don’t want to burden you-“

“Not everybody does it by themselves.” Steve counters with a little snort, his shoulders easing. “Don’t actors have people to do it for them? Or just people on television in general?” He counters and you lift your brows in confusion. 

“Just pretend like, you’re going out on TV and I’m your little makeup boy.” Steve explains with a slowly growing grin. “You can even order me around, we both know I don’t mind.” He eases close to you, his voice dipping a bit and you giggle. He chuckles, kissing at your cheeks until his own skin sports painted flowers on it. 

“You’re not a burden, babe.” He mumbles after a moment, rubbing your sides. “Not at all. Besides, you can do it, I just want to because its fun.” He admits, nuzzling your neck as you both ease down onto the bed. “And it’s kinda hot, knowing m’the one who put it on you.” 

“Really?” You never thought of it that way before. How it’s almost like a secret way to show the world that you were his and he was yours. “Even if we’re running late in the morning and we’re both stressing about getting it done?”

“Would you even want to put on makeup when that happens?” Steve counters, shifting to rest his chin on your chest. You consider it, knowing that convenience was part of the reason you hesitated about makeup in the past. “Probably not.” 

Steve hums knowingly, arms wrapping around your waist while he just lays on you for the moment. “I’d still will, though. Help you with it.” He promises and you kiss the top of his head in thanks. He presses a few kisses along your collarbones, some along your neck before slowly dragging down. He nudges your shirt over your stomach, kissing the soft skin there while you resist the urge to laugh. “Steve-“

“Mm?” He hums innocently, kissing at your hip bone and letting his teeth scrape along the scar there from one of your surgeries. You gasp, hand tangling itself in his hair while he groans in response. “Wh-what are you doing?” You stutter out, heat crawling up your neck as he gets even lower. 

“Wanna show you how much I like taking care of you.” Steve offers, pausing and looking up at you. “…Can I?” 

There was a silence as you thought it over. Hell yes, you’d love to have him show you, but the reciprocation…

“Could you…finger me instead, please? I’ll happily return the favor with my hand.” You counter with a hopeful smile, slowly sitting up. Steve rises with you, but there was a visible disappointment in his eyes. “Honey, but I want too, really, you don’t have to return the favor-“

You shake your head, nudging your bottoms off. “I want to make you feel good and it’s not fair if you give me head and I can’t.” You insist, pausing at your underwear. “I mean, if we don’t do it then we won’t know what we’re missing, right?”

Steve can’t hide the snort he makes and you’re quickly reminded of the fact that no, that wouldn’t apply to the both of you. Your fingers hesitate at the band of your underwear and suddenly you don’t feel in the mood anymore. “How about I just use my hand on you? I don’t think I feel like it right now.” 

There’s a startled look in his eyes and you’re quick to move. Instead crowding close to him and reaching for his belt instead. Though before you can even get the fly open, he captures your hands in his. “Hey, talk to me.” He counters and you wilt. 

Steve rubs your knuckles and presses your hands to his chest instead. “Why don’t you want to go down on me?” He asks, and there’s so much sincerity in his tone. He doesn’t look upset by it, just confused, seeking your reasoning instead of being left in the dark.

“It’s not that I don't want to.” You admit, unable to meet his gaze. You’ve been intimate before, but never like this. Usually you’d have him finger you and you’d rub him down before taking him with the help of a lot of lube. “It’s that I don't think I can. Like, physically.” 

“Oh.” There was a sudden understanding in his eyes. “Wait, have you tried before?” 

“I mean, I don’t need to. I know my mouth isn’t shaped quite right.” You point out, briefly glancing at the lipstick. “And I dunno about my gag reflex, or like, what if I accidentally bite you?” 

Steve winces and you pull your hands away from him. “Exactly.”

“But honey, m’not asking you to go down on me, I want to go down on you.” He insists, chasing your hands by crawling on the bed until he’s hovering close to you again. “And I’ll make a promise that I won’t bite.” He offers a grin, his eyes so full of desire and want. 

“…But I won’t feel good knowing I can’t give that to you back.” You whisper, hushed by the close proximity. Steve sighed, resting your foreheads together. “…..What if you just..try it?” He offers, nudging his nose against yours before kissing your lips sweetly. “You haven’t actually tried it, right? So, practice on me. You don't need to take it all into your mouth to make me feel good babe, trust me.” 

“But what if I hurt you, or it doesn’t feel good?”

“I can teach you.” Steve assures, rubbing the back of your neck. “I’ll show you, and hey, if we really can’t then you can use your hand all you want and I’ll have you squirting on my fingers in no time. Deal?” His smirk is wolfsh and you laugh, your face burning. 

“Fine, fine, we’ll try it.” You kiss him and he hums into your lips. “Awesome.” 

You have him lay down, his bare legs spread out to give you all the room you need. His cock is already half hard, resting on his stomach and the happy trail that led to the neatly trimmed bush at the base of his dick. He looks up at you, propping himself on his forearms in a lounge. 

"You ready?" He prompts softly and you nod. Sinking between his legs, you grasp his cock. This part was easy, and the sweet groans he gave you were enough to spur you on. "So, where can I start?" You ask, leaning closer to where your breath was ghosting along his head. "Like this?" 

You ever so gently lick your tongue along his head. He grunts, fingers digging into the plush sheets below. "Fuck- Wait, thats a little sensative. Little lower?" He directs and you follow. You slide down, tongue lapping just under it while your hands rub the rest. He sighs then, melting into the feeling with a moan. "Thats it, fuck, Honey~" He arches into you, thighs flexing as you keep kitten licking the head so sweetly.

You adore the sounds spilling from his lips as you go to kiss at his shaft. You rub at his girth, squeezing and twisting your wrist for more friction while you try and curl your tongue around the pearling tip. "Shit- Think y'gonna make me cum-" Steve hisses, reaching out and laying his hand on top of your head. "Can you take more honey? Can you try?" He pleads with literal tears of pleasure in his eyes. A rush of power blooms in your chest and you slowly take more of him into your mouth. He's not small, the stretch uncomfortable but possible. You grip the bedspread underneath him, willing your gag reflex away. 

"Can you swallow?" Steve asks and you make a nervous noise in the back of your throat. "Its okay honey, can you try f'me- Shit!" His back arches when you manage to swallow around his cock. He twitches, his own lips a 'O' of pleasure. "Oh fuck, y'so good, so fuckin' good-" He arches when you do it again, a soft whine escaping him. There's an ache in your jaw, and without thinking you close it a bit. Your teeth gently brushing against his cock.

Steve moans at the sensation, the shock of danger racing up his spine while he whines. "Fuck! Sh-shit-" He pants, and you scrape your teeth against him again to make him shudder. He's so sensitive, so responsive, it's fantastic. You scoot closer, crowd him more while you speed up. You need to hear him come, you wanna hear that voice of his shoot up into the stratosphere because of you. Because of you.

One second your boy was gazing at you, the next he was slumped back on the bed, your tastebuds finally getting a good sampling of Steve, and holy fuck, it was not bad. Nothing like the things you’ve heard other people mention. You swallow, slowly pulling away and cleaning the remains from your face, not liking the sticky feeling even with the taste. 

Steve lies there for a long moment, and you slowly crawl closer to him. “Steve? Are you-“ Big hands grip your hips and you squeal as your boyfriend rolls the two of you over with a grunt until he’s hovering above you, pearly whites on display in a grin. “Honey, that was-“ He stops himself, ducking down to kiss you. “Oh my god, you're amazing.” He mumbles against your lips and you can’t help but laugh. “Steve I just- Steve!” You gently bat your hands at him as he creates a line of kisses along your throat. It’s hard to talk when he’s creating hickies along your thrumming pulse. 

“It wasn’t that good, I just put my mouth on you-“ You try to dissuade the praise, but Steve just shakes his head against your shoulder. The chestnut strands rocking your jawline with the movement. “It was amazin’ cuz it’s you. Oh fuck, I wish you could see how hot you looked. Lookin’ up at me, taking me so well.”

You want to tell him to be honest, but there was no lie in his voice. Just the one your own inner thoughts hissed beneath his sweet words. “I’m glad you liked it.” You say instead, nuzzling his temple while he hums against your pulse. 

“How did you feel?” He asked after a moment, slowly pulling away to meet your eyes. “How’s your jaw? Does it hurt? It hurts after a while.” He rambles, but you gently cup his cheeks and kiss him. “I’m fine.” You admit, your slightly turned nose brushing against his. “I liked it. My jaw aches a little, but I think with time it’ll be okay? But I liked it, I really liked it.” You run your fingers through his hair while he relaxes on top of you with a sigh. “Yeah? It didn’t like….taste funny to you?”

“Is it supposed to?” You counter, brows knitting in concern because it really wasn’t that bad. Though your senses have always been a little different then the rest. 

“I don’t think so. Depends on the person, both the uh..giver and the uh..recipient..?” Steve offers while you giggle at him. “The blower and the blowee?” You counter and he barks out a laugh, shaking with it while you join him. 

“I thought it was…okay. Nothing weird.” You rub your hand along his spine, marveling at the plains of his back as he snuggles closer to your warmth. “I think you sounded amazing, though.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

There was a silence then, just the thump of your hearts and the occasional car that drove past your house. Your eyes felt so heavy with contentment, you’d have slept right there if it wasn’t for Steve slowly shifting out of your hold. You blink, looking down and flushing as he settles between your legs with determination. “My turn?” He checks, hopeful. You answer with a parting of your thighs, your hand’s scooping under your knees to hold them open for him, which he groans at. He kisses your inner thigh, his hand joining yours on your thigh while the other explores your silky center. 

“Let’s see if you can top my sounds, huh?” Steve muses with a smirk. 

[reigningqueenofwords]

Jessie

Word count: 1,478 Warnings: Talk of child death, talk of child abduction Request: @atcamillanorrman Dean and 78 ♥️ “Seven billion people in the world and I got put in a room with you. Either I’m cursed or God likes playing house with us.”

Read on AO3

You’d grown up hunting, just like the Winchester boys. They had their father, you had your mother. You were a year older than Dean, but every time your parents teamed up over the years… he took it upon himself to put himself in charge. It was honestly one of the most irritating things about him. As the pair of you got older, the more the pair of you butted heads. The only thing you could agree on? Keeping Sammy safe. That’s it. You liked Sammy. He was nothing like his older brother. If you had a brother, you wished he would be like Sammy. 

Your mom was killed on a hunt when you were 17, and you went on hunting. Alone. Then Sammy went by Sam and took off for college. You couldn’t blame him one bit. While there had been a time in your life you wanted the same, it had passed quickly. 

Shockingly, you didn’t come across John and Dean in those years that Sam was gone. You’d heard whispers about them, of course. It was hard not to. Bobby would ask you to give them a call now and then when you were on the trail of something nasty, but you refused. Why would you ask for help from Dean? John, sure. But with John, came Dean. 

Then you heard the other whispers: Sam Winchester was back, and John was in the wind. It piqued your interest. What would cause John to leave Dean? What the hell would cause Sam to ditch school? You’d caved and called Dean. “I want to check on Sam.” You told him. “I’m in Maryland, where are you two?” 

“What, not gonna check in on me? Am I not important to you?” He asked. 

You rolled your eyes. “Dean, just because you’re John’s favorite, doesn’t mean you’re mine.” You countered. “Can I please meet you guys somewhere? Three hunters is better than one or two.” 

He let out a sigh. “We’re about to hit the road. Hunt in Mississippi. I’ll text you the info.” 

“Cool.” You figured one hunt wouldn’t hurt, and then you’d be on your way. 

“Sammy! You got tall!” You grinned as you saw him. 

His face lit up, moving in for a hug, which you happily gave him. “It’s good to see you.” He lifted you slightly, making you laugh. “It’s been years.” 

You nodded. “What, like 8 or something?” You mused. “You were still tiny last time I saw you.” You reached up to ruffle his hair. “Talk about a growth spurt!” He was a good six or so inches taller than you, and the last time you’d seen him he’d been a good six inches shorter than you. Either that, or you remembering him as being way shorter than he actually was. 

“Do I get a hug?” Dean asked, smirk on his face. “I haven’t seen you in that long, either.” 

“No, I don’t know where you’ve been.” You shook his head, stepping into the room. “My room is right next door, so let’s get on with this hunt.” 

Dean huffed and nodded. “Fine.” He agreed, going to sit at the little table. “It’s looking like werewolves.” He started as you sat across from him. 

“Fucking hell.” You shook your head. 

“We’re alive, does that count for nothing?” He sighed, trying to wiggle open a window. It wasn’t doing a damn thing. “Sammy will get us out of here in no time.” 

You rolled your eyes, slamming yourself into the door. The door didn’t budge, and you let out a groan when you hit the ground bouncing off of it. You were doing everything in your power not to let your pain show. Breathing deep, you slowly got up. 

“Shit, Y/N. You okay?” Dean abandoned the window to help you. 

“I’m fine.” You snapped, pulling away from him once you were standing. “Seven billion people in the world and I got put in a room with you. Either I’m cursed or God likes playing house with us.” You grumbled. 

He put his hands on his hips, a hard look on his face. “What the hell is your problem with me? I haven’t even seen you in like 8 years, and you’re acting like I’ve done something to personally warrant you hating me.” He glared. “What gives?” 

You shook your head. “Whenever our parents would team up and we’d get left alone, you suddenly had to be in charge. Despite the fact that I’m older, and was told to look out for you two! As soon as they left, you got a bug up your ass that you were top dog.” You snapped. “And believe me, the things I’ve heard about Dean Winchester himself over the years don’t help. Cocky, arrogant, and a womanizer.” You glared right back at him. 

“I put myself in charge because I didn’t think you should have to look after a kid that isn’t yours.” He defended himself. “Sammy was, and is, my responsibility. Not yours. I was used to looking after us, why the hell would I want you to come in and take over? I figured you’d like only looking after yourself!” He argued. “Or are you that bossy that you have to tell everyone what to do? And I don’t know who the hell you’re talking to, either. Just because I like woman doesn’t mean I’m a womanizer. They go to the bar for the same thing I do: a night to just forget and have a good time.” 

“I love Sammy, why wouldn’t I want to look after him? I lost my baby brother, so it was like for a moment I got to watch out for him again.” 

He furrowed his brows. “Wait, what? I didn’t know you had a brother.” He admitted, a pang in his heart. 

You sighed. “He was a year younger than me. It was right after my mom started hunting.” Licking your lips, you focused. He wasn’t someone you talked about. Ever. “We were playing at a park. Mom was with us, too.” Dean watched as the pain took over your eyes. “I was 5, Jessie was 4. There were a few kids there, and as kids do…we all started playing. We were playing hide and seek while mom was chatting with another mom.” The tears started to well in your eyes. “After a few minutes, I couldn’t find him. I looked everywhere, and called his name. I thought he was being a brat and ignoring me.” You sniffed, shaking your head. It felt like it was just yesterday. You could still feel the breeze in the air, hear the leaves crunching under your feet, and hear the other kids laughing. “Finally, I went to tell my mom Jessie wasn’t playing fair. He’d been taken. No one had seen or heard anything.” 

“Jesus.” He breathed, getting emotional himself. 

“They found his little body a week later.” Your voice cracked. “And Sammy kinda reminded me of him, ya know?” Wiping your cheeks, you just wanted out of this damn house. “I couldn’t keep Jessie safe, but I could keep an eye on Sammy. I figured you were old enough, but Sammy wasn’t.” 

Without thinking, Dean pulled you into a hug. “Jessie being killed wasn’t your fault.” He managed, knowing that he’d feel responsible if something happened to Sam, too. 

You found yourself hugging him back with one arm. “It feels like it was.” You buried your face in his neck. Crying over Jessie wasn’t something you let yourself do. You cried when he was taken, and when he was buried. That was it. After that you bottled it up, not letting those feelings come to the surface. You’d let it turn into anger over the years, channeling it into hunting and hating Dean.

He rubbed your back gently. “After this hunt I’ll buy you a beer and you can tell me all about him. How’s that?” He offered. 

“Okay.” You instantly caved. Maybe talking about him would help you somewhat. “First we need to get out of his dump.” You sighed, pulling out of his arms. “Any ideas? Since windows and doors are a bust?” 

“We’ll figure something out.” He said confidently. 

Sam had busted you free a couple hours later. The pair of you had looked over every nook and cranny of that place, and had no luck. “Oh, good. You’re both still alive.” He breathed when he saw you both. “I was seriously afraid what I’d find behind that door.” 

You chuckled lightly. “Sorry, you’re not getting rid of one of us that easily.” You patted his arm. “I’m gonna be tagging along for a bit.” 

He looked surprised, his eyes going to Dean. “She serious?” He asked, making Dean nod. “Huh. I wish I thought of locking you guys in a room together.” He half joked.