#vaginal imagery lol

[thatlesbiancrow]

the cake my brother made for my mom's birthday!

it uh... took on an interesting shape

[reikunrei]

maaaan I’ve really got my brain stuck on the lack of period/menstruation explicitly mentioned in st. bc that’s weird right??? like… I understand that a lot of any sort of vaginal imagery would be bc of the tie to birth, and menstruation is almost explicitly a lack of pregnancy so it’s like opposite but. it goes hand in hand you know? so why…

[justporo]

Rooted within each other

The two of you shared tender glances, loving touches and slight laughs as you imagined what it could be like: to truly be with each other. All the while though neither of you dared to speak what was on both of your minds.

This pleasant back and forth went on for seemingly an eternity until both of your bodies were covered in a sheen of sweat, hair dripping and messily falling into your faces, skin glowing feverhot.

MASTERLIST | AO3 | PART 3

Author's Note: It's time for dessert and thereby the hopefully sweet and overly emotional conclusion to this smut fic. Partly inspired by this post here by @brain-rot-central and another by @davenswitcher

Gif by @cheekylittlepupp (pls follow them!)

Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav (You) Warnings: explicit sexual content, porn with feelings, vaginal sex, creampie, slight religious imagery, aftercare, Astarion speaking Elvish, lol Wordcount: 3,1k

Astarion’s words gently waved the oncoming dreams and rest away. You slowly blinked your eyes open laying on his chest and cuddled up even closer to him. There was no way you could tell when you had last felt this at peace.

“What?” you asked sheepishly as you had to fight to keep your eyes open. Post-orgasm haze and the way Astarion’s hand on your back had slowly caressed you close to slumber were making it difficult for you to grasp onto his meaning.

“Let me take care of you, darling,” Astarion muttered again. The words tumbled out of his mouth a little too quick - as if they had to be pushed out before they got lost elsewhere.

“Please,” he added. Which made you frown even more than the way he had spoken before.

Your arms still felt wobbly from the sex before but you pushed up with a bit of struggle to be able to look into the vampire’s eyes.

His hand on your back dropped slightly but stayed there a bit helplessly as you observed Astarion with some concern on your face. Red eyes were already wide and surprisingly vulnerable but while you just looked at him for several heartbeats they began flitting around nervously, tongue darting out to wet his lips and he cleared his throat as if the words had left an unpleasant, dry feeling behind.

Suddenly the fact that you were both completely naked and had just been deeply entwined felt like nothing anymore. In an instance Astarion second-guessed everything. Despite the physical closeness he suddenly feared you being far away. Just like it had been with so many others. Nothing but a transaction at best.

Astarion almost wished he could take back his words as you kept staring at him without saying anything. He’d been pushing his luck already he felt like. You had already been so generous with him.

That was exactly it though: he felt like he owed you. But not in the way he thought before, in that way he had dealt with way too often over the past couple of centuries. He had meant his words: he wanted to take care of you in turn after you had given him so much: blood, safety - and now so much tender and honest affection, he could feel his undead heart in his chest clench just looking at you. He hadn’t felt like this in centuries. Maybe he had never quite felt like this before.

And he just wanted to give you something in return. Not with an ulterior motive behind it. Solely because he wanted to see you smile at him. So you would laugh at one of his stupid jokes again, so you would whisper his name again when you came shivering in his arms and there was nothing and no one else on your mind.

Solely because Astarion  found - he liked you; in lack of better words (or lack of courage to use them, yet).

But the longer the silence drew out between you, insecurity took the better of him. He should have just kept quiet and enjoyed the serene silence with you in his arms.

Astarion was just about to wave off his request when you finally spoke.

“You know, Astarion,” you began and the vampire’s chest clenched, anxious for your next words “you don’t owe me anything in return.”

You cocked your head to one side, strands of your hair falling over your shoulder. Your fingers wandered lightly over Astarion’s chest.

He was immediately lost for words.

Out of everything that was not the reaction he would have anticipated. Immediately this felt wrong. There always was a price to be paid, a debt to be claimed some time - right?

You saw his sceptic thoughts on his face almost as clearly as if he had spoken them aloud. The time, and especially the nights spent together, when Astarion had sometimes allowed you to take a peek behind his tightly worn armour, had made you good at reading him.

And you knew that he wouldn’t deal well with a rejection - even if it was entirely out of pure motives. Not right now. So you opted for something that you thought might be even better - for both of you.

“How about-,” you started and placed your hand on Astarion’s chest firmly - right over where his heart must be. He immediately covered it with his own as he cautiously waited for your reply.

The way his crimson gaze glinted despite there being barely any light made you almost forget what you were trying to say. Three little words once more almost pushed themselves to the front, almost tumbling from your mouth.

Whatever this was that had seemingly manifested between the two of you this night, you hoped it wasn’t only a temporary spell. You hoped it would stay. Because the way Astarion stared up at you, eyes so open and his thumb tenderly brushing over your hand on his chest gave you a whole new desire to overcome all of these hardships that had been thrown your way. For him. And for you. Maybe even together.

“How about we take care of each other? Make it equal,” you proposed and immediately bit your lip after the words had left your tongue.

Astarion’s eyebrows lifted as your words surprised him once more. But a genuine, happy smile spread over his face rather quickly.

“I think I would like that, my dear,” Astarion replied and you felt how his remaining hand on your back slid over it as he nudged you to lean down to him.

He didn’t want to waste another precious moment with words if his lips could be otherwise occupied with kissing you. You leaned into him with a huge grin at how eager the rogue had suddenly become.

But when your open mouth met his and he kissed you like a starving man while your arms wrapped around his neck you quickly got lost in the moment. Never had he kissed you like this: his tongue slipped into your mouth, toyed with yours while his head turned to get more of this, of you. His free hand lifted to the nape of your neck, gently pulling you in closer while he dragged you right on top of him.

You sighed into his mouth as your body squished against his, your heart beginning to beat faster again as your naked body slid along his. Your softer curves fit perfectly with the harder lines of his body as you melted together - made for each other.

Astarion’s kiss was so greedy and hungry and giving and offering at the same time. Your hands wandered to his face, cupping it, thumbs wandering over his cheekbones, the line of his jaw, trying to really feel him. So you would remember this forever.

He moaned so softly it was barely perceptible when your fingers touched his sensitive elven ears. Your hands dug into his lush, white curls, fingertips dragging along Astarion’s scalp.

Simultaneously, the urge to feel you, everywhere and all around him became almost unbearable for Astarion.

Desire for each other grew quickly within you, generously laced with feelings reaching much deeper. Depths the two of you had barely scratched the surface off.

With roguish quickness Astarion grabbed you and flipped you over, immediately climbing on top of you, leaning on his elbows above you, holding himself there for a moment to take in the sight of you.

You gasped at the sudden change of position. Without hesitation you moved your hand to his face again as you drank him in much the same: a few curls were falling into his face in some disarray, lips parted and swollen from kissing, red eyes molten.

You were awestruck.

And much the same was true for Astarion. The way you stared up at him, one arm stretched out to him lovingly, your eyes so wide and yearning and full with nothing but love and wonder and that delightful full body flush turning your cheeks the most pleasant shade of pink.

He almost made confessions of love right then and there as he kept gazing upon you and knew he was a changed man. But before he felt he said something foolish that might ruin it all he busied his mouth again by pressing it to your neck.

The vampire held your head up much more tenderly than in the beginning of the night. Again feeling your quickening pulse under his lips and his fangs only an inch away from where they had been buried in your neck not so long ago, right when this night and everything had started.

He breathed in your intoxicating scent and kept kissing and caressing your delicate skin, leaving a wet, sloppy trail where he pressed his lips and tongue to you. Occasionally he suckled at your skin, leaving slight marks.

He just wanted to make you his, if only temporarily so.

You felt your own lust rear its head again inside of you as Astarion kept mouthing down your throat and his hands were once more roaming your body: cupping your breasts, redrawing the lines of your ribs, squeezing your butt as you wrapped your legs around his slender hips and arched towards his body.

Gasps from each of you filled the night air but neither of you spoke as your hands explored his body as well. Your hands wandered over his shoulders, his arms, felt the muscles tense up under your touch.

You didn’t even stop at the gruesome ridges on his back. With flat hands you stroked over them at an even pace while Astarion slightly shivered under your touch but didn’t withdraw. He just kept seeking the comfort in your touch and your body as you held him in your embrace.

Neither of you had any intention of stopping anytime soon as you kept exploring each other’s bodies unlike you had done before. You simply wanted to truly see and feel each other - not a layer between you.

In between Astarion lifted his head up again, locked eyes up with you while your touch wandered over his tortured back. You didn’t stop. He didn’t want you to you realised as you locked eyes with him.

You saw him, accepted him with everything that came along with him.

And Astarion felt seen, truly, maybe for the first time in his life.

What followed then was messy and sloppy as your limbs tangled even more, hands, mouths and eyes solely focused on each other. It wasn't practised or neat, not an act. It was raw and tender and loving and passionate. And more than anything: it was honest and real.

You dragged your bodies along each other as you felt your core throbbing with lust and Astarion’s hardened length kept rubbing against your heated skin.

The two of you kept writhing against each other, desire rising agonisingly slow as you took your time. The flames had been high all night but now they lazily rose higher until the embers were glowing white and hot beneath.

For all you cared, this could well go on forever. You wouldn't have minded staying in this limbo of lust and love - maybe forever.

Lazily you went through all sorts of different caresses and new positions to press yourself against each other: you on top, dragging your core along his cock, Astarion diving between your legs to pleasure you with his mouth until you almost already fell for him again, kneeling in front of each other as your hands each stroked each other's most sensitive parts, rolling around in the small space of Astarion's tent until you had gotten lost even in the tiny bit of room you had there.

You drew out this small piece of heaven for each other for as long as you could while keeping the other just right off that edge so you could let yourself fall down together when you chose to do so later on.

The two of you shared tender glances, loving touches and slight laughs as you imagined what it could be like: to truly be with each other. All the while though neither of you dared to speak what was on both of your minds.

This pleasant back and forth went on for seemingly an eternity until both of your bodies were covered in a sheen of sweat, hair dripping and messily falling into your faces, skin glowing feverhot.

You were sitting on his lap, Astarion kneeling on his bedroll, both arms wrapped around you to hold you close to him. His hard and weeping cock was pressed pleasantly between your hot bodies as you were kissing again. Your time much better spent with your mouth on each other but with words you couldn’t be sure you might regret come the next morning. Your arms were holding onto his face as you kissed him messily, rocking back and forth, heads leaning and gasps and moans passed between each other. 

Astarion’s hands were grabbing onto your thighs like a drowning man would a lifeline - and that was pretty much what he felt like with you. He’d been drowning, already dead inside. But then you came along, offering him another shot at something he’d long thought forgotten.

Then you broke the kiss, cradling his face in your hands as he looked upon you as if you were a deity finally descended from the heavens to answer all of his prayers.

His white curls were falling into his face, dripping with sweat as he breathed heavily, eyes so full of yearning it made your chest clench. This was probably the most vulnerable you had ever seen him. And you wished to cradle his heart just as gently as you did his face.

“Do you even have an idea,” Astarion whispered as he gazed upon you with wonder in his eyes and began to lift you by your thighs until your entrance was lined up with the head of his cock “how much I want you?”

You could merely hold onto him and feel your pulse race even faster as you anticipated being one with him once more.

With his words he slowly but firmly pulled you down on him. He immediately bottomed out, leaving you only to let your head fall back and groan his name as you got to experience the pleasure of Astarion filling you for the second time this night.

The vampire began to engage a gentle rhythm, more rocking than thrusting for now. But heat was quickly rising even higher now that you finally felt him inside of you again, your walls already clenching around him in desperation to feel, to have more. The way you wrapped your arms around him was just as desperate: trying to be as close and joint with him as possible.

“I have an inkling,” you breathed and heard Astarion softly chuckle in response, feeling the soft vibration echo through your wrapped up bodies.

You kept moving with a tenderness that was at odds with how you had indulged each other before. But it seemed this night was made out of differences and shifting them.

Astarion began to fuck you gently. You rocked your hips in rhythm with his slow but forceful movements, each of you savouring every moment.

It became rougher and faster and harder as you went - the air filled with nothing but gasps and moans. No more room or breath for sweet nothings or words of affection that merely danced around the real thing.

Your breaths become rugged as you felt yourself rocked to the core, orgasm fast approaching as Astarion kept thrusting into you - the sounds he made just as desperate as yours. Different feelings within you became nearly overwhelming as you skyrocketed towards the end of this road.

Your head fell back with a mewl as you felt you were only moments away from completely unravelling for the vampire. And you already knew your only wish was  to keep doing this again and again and again - until maybe someday you would have nothing left to give, but the vampire finally would feel loved.

As your head lolled back Astarion wrapped his arms even closer around you as he kept speeding up the pace and he was making you come undone. He felt lost in you - but pleasantly. The way his chest swelled as he gazed upon you, saw drops of sweat run down your already glistening, exposed throat and he heard his name on your lips like the sweetest promise.

In a final effort he bowed you on his lap while his cock plunged in and out of you and you felt the edges of your existence fray.

“Come for me, darling,” Astarion murmured with a voice barely above a whisper, hands on your spine and neck, bowing you to him further as he willed you over the edge. His mouth licked and suckled on the space in between your breasts, feeling your fluttering heartbeat and he sensed and heard you comply to his request - positively falling for him but only to be caught by him.

Astarion felt you clench down around him, his own demise only a blink or two away. But he needed to watch you, see the utter bliss on your face as you fell without hesitating.

And when he knew you were completely lost in the magic of moment he finally couldn’t resist anymore. As he fell himself, dick inside of you twitching and spilling himself inside of you, Astarion heaved a breath against your trembling chest, words barely distinguishable as he mumbled them: whispering them in hopes you wouldn’t hear and understand but with the desperate wish to put them out there to give them some reality.

“Ai Armiel Telere Maenen Hir!*” Elvish words dancing over your glistening skin, Astarion’s breath between your breasts making you shiver without you knowing why.

The words kept ringing in his own ears as he held your trembling form afterwards. More sweet words, touches and glances were exchanged as you snuggled up with each other in the aftermath. Meanwhile each of your yearning grew almost unbearable.

And as you lay there in his arms Astarion made a realisation and a decision: he couldn’t go on like this anymore. Either his earlier words became real and so the thing that had formed between the two of you - or he would perish.

Tomorrow, he vowed to himself, tomorrow he would tell you.

For now he was too lost in how your head was resting on his chest, low light and shadows painting your face lovingly - and Astarion couldn’t imagine a more beautiful sight to behold for the rest of his immortal life.

(*You hold my heart forever)

~~~

If you enjoyed this you can support me by reblogging this! You can also support me on Kofi (pinned post on my profile)!

Taglist (DM if you want to be added): @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @darlingxdragon @hereliesblackdragon @ayselluna @ajokeformur-ray @i-cant-get-into-my-other-account @rikuyrk06 @marina-and-the-memes @somewhatclear @divineknightmare @linllewellyn @makeitmagical @jwera @honeyluvender @miss-rebel-without-applause @generalstephkenobi @v3ntis-lyr3 @trinswhimsys

[nerdy-arty]

6, 10, 25, 26, 30 :3

6. Is there anything that inspires you subconsciously?

I swear to god everyone says that my art style reeks of MLP influence even though it's hardly ever on my mind when I'm not drawing ponies for the lols. Cannot escape pony hell I guess

10. Fave piece of clothing to draw?

Chunky sweaters! Or anything with loose baggy folds! It's so much fun to play with shape or decide which parts are more baggy and which are more fitted

25. Something your art has been compared to but not inspired by:

Honestly, I can't think of anything off the top of my head. I know some people have pointed out different sources, but there isn't any one big piece of media that my has been compared to which I'm completely ambivalent to.

26. What's a piece that got a wildly different interpretation than what you intended?

Tbh this happens a lot in art school, especially because I'm not one to give deep meanings to my own work and focus more on aesthetics and visual easter eggs. I think the most infamous moment of people seeing shit I didn’t intend was when a classmate said that some horror inspired art I made had vaginal imagery in it. That was.... something.

Lemme know if he had merrit, but it was a really embarrassing moment during crit.

30. What piece of yours do you think is underrated?

My Miku art from her birthday last year. There are no sales on her mini print and under 50 notes on tumblr. But I love the pose I drew her in, and it was my phone background for about 8 months

[theharrowing]

The Hooksborough Demon

You and two friends ventured into the location of an urban legend with the intention of exploring an abandoned building and having a laugh at small town lore for clout.

But after a series of mysterious events, you have turned to a forum a year later to try to piece everything together, and to find out what the fuck happened to Yoongi & Jimin.

🤍 Yoongi x Female Reader x Jimin 🤍 word count: 19.1k + "forum comments" 🤍 paranormal au, urban legend au, found footage horror, gore, poly, smut, nsfw, slash, 21+ 🤍 warnings: disappearance & possible major character death, mental instability, unreliable narrator, haunting imagery, blood, gore, explicit smut, vaginal sex, anal sex, oral sex, mmf threesome, double penetration, unresolved cliffhanger ending. | to give the story that uncomfortable found footage horror vibe, there is a sense that the townsfolk are not friendly to outsiders in the second chapter. there is nothing specifically mentioned, nor any blatant racism or anything of that vein. 🤍 note: please don’t read this before bed lol. i get so many distressed comments about being scared before bed. read this at noon with all the lights on and with a refreshing cup of tea. 💜✨ also, if this story feels like a fever dream at times, that is because i had covid while writing most of it, and took a lot of cough medicine, and many of these scenes actually did come from my dreams. 🤍 beta read by @neoneunnajimin 🤍 posted dec. 2021 & jan. 2022 | read on ao3

INDEX:

1: An Introduction | 500 words + comments

2: The vibes were off | 1.8k words + comments

3: From smiling to...something else | 2k words + comments

4: maybe i'll wake up | 118 words + comments

5: A big black mass | 1.8k words + comments

6: Another night chasing medication down with whiskey | 2.2k words + comments

7: Oddly calm | 2.1k words + comments

8: Wake up, wake up, wake up! | 1.4k words

9: Difference instances | 2.7k words + comments

10: I have wanted this for so long | 2.1k words + comments

11: Rushed and frantic and diagonal | 1.1k words + comments

12: I can't stay here until I find both of you together | 260 words + comments

13: Once I eat you heart, you're mine forever | 500 words + comments

14: This is it | 560 words + comments

and this fic will end not with a bang but with a swirling, heavy mass sitting at the center of your chest.

if you would like to interact with this story as a commenter in the forum, leave your comment or send and ask for the appropriate chapter with a /f/ to signal to me that that's your intention. your username will be your forum username; anons will need to make up a username or i'll randomly generate one. as a forum commenter you cannot interact with the // narrator's thoughts and feelings //, only what's given within the forum itself. although the story is over, you are still welcome to leave comments!

do: doubt the narration, ask questions, challenge ideas, sow seeds of disbelief

don't: try to write any lore that hasn't been established (unless you wanna be shot down on purpose)

The Hooksborough Demon is copyright 2021-2022 theharrowing, all rights reserved.  Don’t be a silent reader! I love to hear from you!

[nessinborderland]

Forgive Me, Father

Pairing: Priest!Niragi x Reader

Genre: smut, priest!AU

Word Count: 1,4k

Summary: You go to church every Sunday; you confess several times a week; you're part of the church choir. What people don't know is that you're not devoted to God, but to someone else who lives in His house.

Warnings: Blasphemy, Church Sex, Priest Kink, Alternate Universe - Priests, priest!Niragi, Vaginal Sex, Blow Jobs, Oral Sex, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Corruption, Loss of Innocence, Dom/sub Undertones, Religion, Breaking Celibacy Vows, Semi-Public Sex, Alternate Universe - 1960s

Notes: You know this ask from an eternety ago?

Yeah, I did it lol. Hope you enjoy. If it’s not your thing, don’t read it and come cry to me later, please.

"And remember," his voice echoed through the large room, reverberating off the high stone walls of the church. You pressed your thighs together, trying to focus on his speech instead of how handsome he looked in the ceremonial robes, "God is with you, always." Your eyes locked just for a split of a second, but you noticed how the corners of his lips moved up before he kept looking at the rest of his congregation. "The Mass has ended, go in peace to love and serve the Lord."

"Thanks be to God," the crowd answered in unison, some kneeling to pray while others stood up, prayer book in hand. 

You stood behind your mother and father as they walked closer to the pier, eyes on the point of your shiny new shoes as you tried not to stare at the priest. 

"Father Niragi," your mother greeted, a big smile on her face as the young cleric turned to focus on your family.

"Ah, Mrs. Smith," you glanced at him at the sound of his voice, eyes locking immediately as he looked over your mother's shoulder, "Nice to see you all here on this glorious Sunday. Hope you enjoyed the mass?" 

"Very much, Father," your mother answered enthusiastically as your dad hummed in agreement. "Your love for God and this congregation is so clear in the way you give your speeches. You even got Y/N to attend every mass and join the choir. That means more than you think."

His smile got bigger as he nodded and took your mother's hands in his.

"I'm glad I could fill your daughter's heart with faith," he said with a nod in your direction. Your mind was immediately pulled back to a particular night just a few days ago; the way his hips slapped against your ass as he fucked you right on that altar – cock stretching you at every thrust before he filled you up with his cum, grunting such filthy things in your ear that even a demon would blush. 

"I'm going to fuck you so deep that they'll hear your screams in Heaven… and Hell."

It was hard just standing there when the feeling of his cum running down your thighs was still so fresh in your memory. 

"You should pray to God every night for the blessing that is my seed inside you."

You stared at him as he kept talking with your mother, his gaze darkening every time he glanced at you. You admired how tall and fit he looked, raven black hair pulled back in a low ponytail that accentuated his handsome features. You knew you weren't the only one ogling the young priest, the stares and giggles of other members of the congregation clear to you and everyone else. But you were the one that got to receive his special blessing. It was you he fucked in secrecy behind the altar; it was you he pleased with his mouth and fingers; it was you he made promises of marriage.

"Such a pretty lil wife that you're gonna make, always so ready to please."

You had what every other girl wanted. One day he would make you his wife, you were sure of it.

Your sinful thoughts were interrupted when your mother repeated your name, looking at you with a raised brow.

“What?” you asked, eyes wide. Niragi chuckled and winked at you, no doubt aware of the thoughts that were going through your mind. You would need to confess later.

"Don't you have something to give Father Niragi?" she asked, an accentuated look to the bag you had been mindlessly carrying until now.

"Oh!" you exclaimed as you retrieved a box from the bag, "I made you cookies, Father. Chocolate chip ones." You sent him a copy smile as you handed him the box, grinning as his fingers brushed against yours. You remembered how they felt around your throat or curled inside you.

"She made them herself!" Your mother chimed in, "She has a talent for baking, my girl. I'm sure you'll love them."

"I'm sure I will," he said, the tip of his tongue poking out to lick his bottom lip as he smirked. It surprised you how no one else seemed to notice how lewd your priest could be at times, "Your daughter is talented in a lot of things."

You felt yourself get hot under his stare, remembering how good his tongue felt on you; inside you. The way his hands gripped your thighs – keeping your legs open as he feasted on your juices like a starved man – mouth working wonders in your most sensitive spot.

"Such a pretty cunt…"

"Hmm," a moan of satisfaction interrupted your thoughts once again, "These are amazing," the priest said as he chewed on a cookie, lips smacking as he ate another. "Talented indeed. Blessed by God himself."

You swallowed as you remembered what had transpired just the day before. How hot and heavy his cock had felt on your tongue as you sucked him off, his hand on your hair as he forced you to swallow all of him.

It was by luck that no one had needed a confession at that time, or they would have heard your moaning and choking on his cock while listening to how dirty the priest of their church was capable of cursing.

"You take my cock so well for such an innocent little thing," he had moaned as your head bobbed up and down on his shaft, spit sliding down your chin. "So ready to get on your knees to please me. Good girl."

"I would like to have a word with Y/N in private, if that's okay with you, Mr. and Mrs. Smith?" his hand on your shoulder startled you as you got reminded once again where you were, "We won't take long."

You kept quiet as he took you to a room next to the altar, where you knew his office to be located. He had never taken you there before, though. Every time he possessed you, he did it in places where you could be easily seen; if not by a sinner looking for absolution, definitely by Jesus on the cross.

His lips were on your neck the moment he closed the door, hands going up to cup your breasts over your conservative cotton dress. You let out a moan as he sucked on your pulse, hand raised to grab his soft hair.

"Please no marking, people are going to see," you begged as he pressed his front to your back, forcing you to bend over his desk. He said nothing as he lifted your skirts over your hips, long fingers tracing your white underwear before he pushed it to the side.

"I want people to see," was all he said before you felt his tip at your entrance. "Look at you, already so wet." He shoved himself inside you without another moment's notice, hand covering your mouth as you let out a strangled scream. 

You opened your legs wider as he started fucking you at a fast pace, his fingers in your mouth as you tried to keep quiet. It was almost impossible though, his cock making a mess of your swollen pussy as he thrust into you over and over.

"You know who confessed to me today?" Niragi grunted in your ear, hand gripping your hip in place as he filled you to the brim, "That Kai boy you were so smitten with when I first met you." You barely registered his words, clenching around him when his fingers started massaging your clit over your panties. "Want to know what he said to me?" he asked with a thrust so hard that the desk moved. "That he wanted to marry you. That he would ask your father for your hand." The priest chuckled, "Like anyone would marry you after I get you pregnant with my bastard."

"S- Suguru…" you moaned his name, focusing on his words, "I- I don't wanna marry him. I want you."

"As God intended," he moaned. "Good girl."

He came with a guttural grunt, forehead pressed against the back of your head as you felt his cum fill you up before it started coating the inside of your thighs. He was quick at pulling out before making himself presentable, leaving you to do the same. 

You caught your disheveled image in a small mirror on the opposite wall, taking in your crazy hair, marked neck, and rumpled dress.

"Beautiful," he whispered behind you. You saw his reflection in the mirror, noticing how his brown eyes turned a reddish color when the light hit them just right. The eyes that had pulled you in the first time you saw him at the church's cemetery. "Now promise me, in God's name, that you're going to be mine and only mine."

[janumun]

Being Your First: Lucifer (NSFW Headcanon)

Pairing: Lucifer/Female Reader Rated: NSFW/18+ (far explicit than most of my other works, please proceed at your own discretion!)

Tags: inexperienced reader, first kisses, loss of virginity, vaginal fingering and intercourse, oral sex, possession, explicit imagery Summary: Let Lucifer instruct you in the art of all there is to learn about the pleasures of the flesh.

Author’s Notes: Requested during my Followers’ Celebration last year by this very sweet Anon (thank you so much, you’re going to have me crying at your kind words!). 

I am indeed still working through the backlog of requests I received last year (I’ll need to plan this out better the next time I open requests LOL) and have been slow since I did not expect the overwhelming response I received then. 

Thank you, thank you all a bunch for your kind words and for taking part in celebrating my blog milestone last year and to all those who requested! 

Happy Reading!

Lucifer’s been watching over you since the very beginning: your astute handling of the various situations you’re faced with, sharp wit and an uncanny faculty to win over his brothers, reeling his interest in slow, and then affections, to witness you grow by their sides.

How you seem to be in possession of the ability to hold every single entity in your sway should you will it, demonic or otherwise — and out of them all, you choose to turn his way, granting your affections to the Avatar of Pride. A woman of courage along with that captivating charm; you are his joy, his beloved.

And so, it comes as rather a surprise to learn that the woman Lucifer has chosen to hold in his eternity has allowed herself to remain untouched throughout her human years. Attractive as he finds you; the fact is hard for him to wrap his head around.

The confession comes up on the occasion of your first kiss...

 When gloved digits lift to curve around the shape of your cheeks. Thumb dragging delicate across the skin beneath your eye, earnest, in love. He watches momentarily; the quickenings of your breath, chest rising in subtle puffs of breath through pink, parted lips— delectable — the beats of your heart, rapid, he hears within. Lashes fluttering before they begin to fall, a fan of dark against flushed skin and he takes it permission, at last to tip your head upwards.

Pressing his lips against yours until he feels your entire body go lax beneath his touch, the longer he holds your kiss. Savoring each ecstatic shudder, until your mouth parts for his and he slides his tongue into you, testing against yours, he does not miss the momentary stiffness that takes your shoulders once he does.

Withdrawing slow, Lucifer observes you once more, for reluctance or discomfort. “Did you not like that? Perhaps, we are taking this too fast—”

Before you move to refute him, at once. “No! No... that’s not it at all. I liked it, very much so, might I add.” Cheeks flushed, he watches that gaze trek over his own features now as if watching for a reaction, you begin to speak slow. “That was my first kiss, that’s all.  But it felt really good, Lucifer. Would you kiss me again?”  

To say he’s rendered speechless for a few moments is an understatement. Several emotions; surprise, to know you have never been touched in this manner before. Pleasure to know he is the first one you’ve allowed yourself to have.

A sense of primal possession; at the knowledge that he alone shall stand as one who knows of his lover’s body in intimacy — the sole owner of your heart, mind and body — and to be the one to guide you through the pleasures to be had, of the flesh; a pride and honor. A vow made; to let you experience the heights of ecstasy to be reached, far out of bounds of mortal ability.

And so, Lucifer smiles; gentle love and adoration, at your request. “If it is what you wish for, princess.”

And he sinks back towards you, gloved fingers twining through your hair to drag you close as his mouth settles onto yours once more to bring you back to falling apart in his arms.

Believing in the set order to a relationship; Lucifer makes sure to take the time, however long it is, to prepare you, mind and body, long before he takes you to his bed.

Although you have more than once tried to further your advances, his mouth leaving you wanting more each time, Lucifer is quick to still the grind of your hips against his and silence the protests that fall from an unsatisfied tongue.

“You’re going to be patient for me, my love.” He chides in a low voice, withdrawing wet from your lips. “I have no desire to hurt you when you are yet unprepared.”

“But I’m not.” You protest, even as part of you agrees, a frisson of nervous energy running through each time Lucifer touches you this intimately. To not know what lies beyond, to want him this much; the prospect of it terrifies you, to not possess the knowledge to channel your desires in a manner adequate enough.

You want to have sex with this man you so love but you’re not sure you’re brave enough to take that first step all on your own.

Lucifer’s claret gaze sweeps over you at your answer, darkening, it steals a gasp from you just as sure as the possessive hands that settle at the shell of your hips, holding firm, before Lucifer’s thrusting himself forward; his own burgeoning arousal, hard and intimidating, grinding against your clothed pussy. “Are you then? Prepared as you say?”

You flush at the sheer size of him you feel through cloth alone, hard and hot, it steals your words effectively. “I…”

Impossible.

You don’t think you could accommodate him inside of you, at all.

His gaze loses part of its ferocity as gentle fingers curl into your hair to tug you close, Lucifer laying a kiss against your forehead, “Don’t worry so. When I do make you mine at last, I’ll carve into your body, pleasure so overwhelming, you’ll be begging for me to never stop, my love. And when that happens… I shall not let you leave my bed.”

You shiver in his embrace for an entirely different reason at his delectable threat.

“You have my word, princess.”

No opportunities are wasted, Lucifer’s making good on his promise to work you out, slow and torturous, for him.

And he teaches you, in turn. There are several ways, aside from penetration, that can have you unraveling from him just as easy.

Gloved fingers pinching at the hardened peaks of your breasts above cloth, he instructs you to let out your tongue, hot mouth closing around and swallowing your moans entirely when you buck against him, impatient and needy.

Reaching for one of his hands to guide towards your mouth; restless teeth closing around the fabric of his gloved index till you tug it off of his hand, exposing him at last. The pull of his lips; devious. Dark lust coloring that scarlet gaze, blood-red as the wine that intoxicates your cheeks to see it.

Bare digits reach to nudge a space in between your thighs before he settles the pad of curious fingers against your soaked entrance. Tracing you above underwear as if mapping the shape of you, before Lucifer’s tugging aside your panties to test a finger within your depths. You arc into him, head thrown back at the electricity that spills up your spine at the press of his thumb into your clit.

Breath juddering out of your lungs and then swept entirely from you with the sudden tumble of you back into his sheets, legs cleaved apart until you see that dark head disappear into the space of your thighs. Lust clouding your thoughts, slowing them entirely until you feel the warmth of his tongue against that tight bead of pleasure, sweeping your slick into his mouth. Edging that deft tongue into your depths, you cannot speak anymore from how good he’s making you feel, you’re convulsing around him, vehement, all too soon.

You cannot count the number of times he’s had you releasing yourself, on his fingers, into his mouth. Bringing you to the Heavens until you see the stars above, or burn as hot as the fires of Hell itself, with merely but a touch.

Dragging you to the heights of ecstasy until you’re entirely addicted to the taste of him within you, around you; your love for your majestic demon serving only to heighten your desires for him, building until they almost overflow.

You want him in his entirety, to feel him within, to know he is joined to you as deeply as your bodies will allow you to. The desire is almost unbearable, until Lucifer allows you to have him, at last.

The fated night — he spoke of it to you several days earlier, of how he would make you his — arrives.

Dressed smart and regal, he’s reaching to fold your hand into the crook of his arm as he escorts you out to dinner at a private establishment.

And right after, a room he had booked prior, for the night. 

Peeling your coat off for you as soon as you’re inside, followed after by gloved fingers dancing across the skin of your shoulders, dragging fabric down to reveal you to his sight.

Left in your underwear alone while he remains fully clothed still, you let that claret gaze sweep across you, the emotions buried within, inscrutable and you flush under the intense scrutiny of his gaze.

Guiding you into the showers where Lucifer insists on ‘bathing’ you, thoroughly, fingers pressing into your pussy, drenched, long before he even touches you. Leaving you to drown your embarrassment against a hot tongue pulsing into your mouth. 

His clothes yet unremoved, the dark fabric of his shirt drenched beneath the hot flow of water. Clinging delectable to the firm spread of his pectorals… and down further, mapping the shape and ridge of his abdomen, you swallow at the erotic sight of it. Arousal running free down your thighs as he presses a flutter of kisses down the expanse of your neck and breasts, fingers scissoring into your depths.

Rendering you dazed with an orgasm that has you swaying into him. Before he sweeps you up and into his arms and out into the bedroom. 

Striding towards the bed before depositing you, careful, onto the sheets, flushed, wet and so very naked beneath him.

You drag him closer, eager hands wrestling his clothes off of him and he lets you. Parting your thighs before you can do much else, to sink into the space in between. Hot mouth closing around and sucking at your clit until you almost scream for him, so very sensitive and throbbing. Fingers twining through yours to hold your hand down captive against the sheets when you try and reach for his cock in an attempt to make him feel just as good, you writhe underneath him, unable to do much but call for him on breathless cries.

Satin sheets, rose red, you sink further into the mattress, inhaling the intoxicating mix of arousal and demon musk in the air. 

Watching how utterly beautiful Lucifer looks in his uncharacteristic impatience tonight; dark locks tousled underneath the assault of your fingers as he’d gone down on you for hours on end earlier.

Your legs, now gathered within the grip of a muscled arm and thrown over one of his shoulders, dark desire burning vicious within the scarlet of his gaze, along with the love you see heightened within.

His gaze trekking over your skin: almost a predator’s caress and you shudder to feel the roll of his cock, hot and heavy, in between your thighs.

The tremble to the proud set of his shoulders, the sharp press of canines into lower lip, as you see him reign in control to watch his length slip slow into your tight, wet depths and you gasp at the foreign feeling. So full of him, it feels as if he reaches every single part within your aching pussy. It’s a feeling you do not entirely dislike.

Your heart just as full to have every single inch of him sheathed within you, at last.

“Are you alright?” He inquires, fingers tracing sweat soaked locks aside from your forehead, his gaze fixated to yours.

And you answer in the affirmative, hips pressing up into him, asking for more.

Lucifer’s mouth falls open, dark eyes burning into yours as he sweeps in for a taste of your lips. Pelvis thrusting forwards for a taste of your body and you keen, loud and long, beneath him.

His hands are slipping underneath your thighs, lifting you upwards to ram his hips against yours. Hooking your legs over those broad, firm shoulders to reach places within you, you weren’t even aware could feel as good.

Your first orgasm underneath Lucifer’s just the beginning.

As if a dam’s burst at last, he’s seeking your body several times throughout the entirety of your night together. Pressing kisses into every single inch of you until he’s made sure his mouth, hands and eyes know of each and every single place that sparks pleasure across your nerves.

Leaving you so entirely satiated and full of him, you require his help after your long love-making, to clean you up of your mixed arousals that leaks onto the sheets even after his mouth settles back down against your overstimulated pussy, tongue pulsing into your depths, as if a man enslaved to the very taste of you.

Having made you his in your entirety.

End Notes: Thank you for reading!

♧° Link to Master List °♡

[whateveriwant]

Dreaming of Angels

Summary: Bucky finds himself dreaming about his girl. His gift from heaven. His angel.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Word Count: ~3.9k

Warnings: violence (blood, guns, death), SMUT 18+ (vaginal sex), biiiig ANGST (like, astronomical levels of angst)

Prompt: "Just Like Heaven" - The Cure

A/N: Hello! So, I have to warn you: this is a sad one, folks. Tbh this got much deeper than I expected (wow that sounds pretentious), but that’s life, I guess. Let me just say that I know some of Bucky’s actions may be OOC, but I did it for the angst, alright? So don’t @ me, lol. Also, given the title of the song and this fic, I went pretty heavy-handed with the religious theme. As this is written from Bucky’s POV, I wanted to portray how he interprets the world/his views on religion – not necessarily the reader's. But if my use of biblical imagery makes you feel uncomfortable/unrepresented, then I want to sincerely apologize. It was truly not my intention to exclude anyone in writing this fic, no matter the religious associations I made. With all that being said, this was written for @nellblazer​ 's 80’s Challenge! Congrats on your 6k followers, Nell! To any and everyone who reads this, I hope you enjoy!

Bucky reclines in his beach chair, letting the sun warm his skin. For once, it's a lazy day. Apparently, supervillains take days off, too. Thus, a gathering of Shield agents and Avengers decided to visit the Stark-donated private beach for their welcomed day of respite.

While most of the beach-goers are out in the water – playing chicken fight, Marco Polo, and other silly games – Bucky is content to stay lounging where it’s warm and dry. He watches Sam get knocked off of Steve’s shoulders by a well-timed push from Wanda, chuckling as he resurfaces to splutter out a mouthful of water.

Bucky continues to watch his team’s antics when he notices a figure approaching his flank. He turns his head, seeing the new Shield agent walking up to him.

Well… “new” is a bit of a misleading title. She’s been an agent for several months at this point – definitely long enough for Bucky to have bred a healthy infatuation with her – but she’s still technically the newest addition to the organization.

She stands before him, her head eclipsing the sun – her own personal halo formed from the obscured rays. It’s beautiful. Ethereal. Angelic.

“Why are you all the way over here?” She asks, bright eyes looking at him curiously. “You’re so far away from everyone.”

Bucky blinks a few times, ridding himself of his dazed expression. He shrugs casually, “Just didn’t feel like getting in the water today.”

But it’s more than that. He’s used to being alone. It’s familiar. Comfortable. Safe.

“I hear ya,” she laughs, giving him a beaming smile. “I might go dip my toes, but I’m not trying to get my hair wet, you know?”

Bucky grins, nodding to show his understanding.

“Mind if I sit here?” She points to the vacant chair beside him.

“Not at all. Please,” he extends his arm, giving her the go ahead.

She smiles again before sitting down, letting out a low sigh as her eyes slowly drift closed. Bucky watches her for a few minutes, admiring the glow she emits – how the sun kisses and reflects off her skin. His eyes travel over the length of her legs, the curve of her hips, the dip of her clavicle.

Does she know how beautiful she is? How breathtaking?

She sits up suddenly, snapping Bucky from his drifting thoughts.

“I think I’m gonna go walk along the shoreline. Want to join?” She turns to him, a slight quirk to her brow.

“Nah, I’m fine,” he shakes his head.

“You’re sure?”

He gives her a half-hearted nod and shrug, choosing to stay by his lonesome like usual.

“Or... I can stay and keep you company, if you’d like.”

He shakes his head again, more fervently this time. “No, please, don’t stay on my behalf.” 

He doesn’t want her to stay out of a sense of obligation. Or worse: pity.

“You go on ahead. I’m okay by myself," he tries giving her an encouraging look.

“Well… alright,” she smiles, but there’s a sadness hidden behind her eyes. “But feel free to join me.” She stands, making a start towards the water’s edge.

Bucky watches her pad down the beach, walking towards the horizon. A trail of delicate footprints follow after her – left behind in the sand, waiting to be swept away with the tide. 

Does she see the way I look at her? Does she know how much I've fallen for her?

No, probably not. She’s too good for me; too pure. What would she want with this broken soul anyway?

He doesn’t verbalize his thoughts, but he projects them outwards – letting them be swallowed up by the waves. Breathed in by the cosmos. Known only by God.

~*~

Suddenly, the image shifts. 

She’s walking away from him again. But this time, it's into a bunker. It’s just the two of them here; Sam and Wanda cover the sky, Steve and a few Shield agents are tunneling through an underground entrance, and the rest are on the other side of the fortification.

Bucky’s never had a mission partner before. And honestly? He’s never really wanted one. He prefers to fly solo. It’s just quicker that way. Easier. Better.

At least, that’s what he likes to tell himself.

Because, if he’s going to actually be truthful, he was beyond relieved when he found out she’d be his partner for this mission. They’re walking into this practically blind – what little intel they have doing next to nothing in warning them of the potential dangers that await.

It’s not that she’s incapable of defending herself, nor is it that other agents would do an inadequate job of watching her back. Rather, Bucky’s just more assured that he’s the one who’ll be looking out for her today – that he’ll be safeguarding her.

They enter through the thick, concrete archway, quickly descending to the subterranean levels of the facility. Following the desolate hallways, they come up empty handed. No intel. No enemies. Nothing.

At a fork in the hall, she turns to Bucky, being all business.

“You take the left, I’ll take the right,” she nods towards the respective corridors.

“Why don’t we just stick together?” He asks, puzzled by her suggestion.

On any other mission with any other partner, Bucky would’ve happily split up. But given the circumstances of this mission and this agent he’s paired with, Bucky is hesitant to separate the partnership.

“We’ll cover more ground in less time,” she states matter-of-factly. “Really, Sergeant Barnes, as a military man, I thought you’d be all about efficiency,” she smirks.

“I’m more concerned with safety, actually,” his voice is completely devoid of humor.

That being said, she does have a point. If they take separate paths, they’ll cut their time in half – meaning the sooner they’ll get back to the safe confines of the jet outside. While they haven’t encountered anything yet – or more specifically, anyone – that doesn’t mean the rest of the bunker is threat-free. 

But despite the ‘what-ifs’ that could await them, Bucky relents to her suggestion – wanting to expedite the mission and get out as soon as possible.

“But keep your comms on and have that at the ready,” he adds with unwavering conviction, indicating the firearm in her hands.

“You got it, Sarge,” she says seriously.

They trek down their separate corridors. All the while, Bucky has her talk through the comms – telling him everything she sees and finds. Again, it’s a whole lot of nothing.

As they descend further and further into the earth, their comm link starts crackling – struggling to penetrate the yards of concrete between them. Bucky stops in his tracks, tapping at his earpiece.

"You there?" He asks her, getting silence in return. He says her name, trying to catch her attention. "Agent? Report back."

Again, he's met with zero response from her end. Then suddenly, her voice breaks through the silence – sounding garbled and choppy.

"Sergeant… surroun… half a doz… Help!"

Even if it weren't for the sentence fragments he hears, the panic in her voice has Bucky flying down the hallway at a break-neck speed.

I knew we shouldn't have separated. I knew something would go wrong if I wasn't there to protect her.

Worry runs rampant through his thoughts as he winds through the maze of corridors, frantically trying to locate her. 

As he nears another passage, Bucky hears shouting coming from the end of the hallway. Turning the corner, he stumbles upon a gruesome scene.

Five bodies litter the floor – crimson pools lying beneath each hole-riddled corpse. At least she put her gun to good use, a proud tone paints his thoughts.

Bucky turns one more corner, unfortunately finding the sixth and final foe still alive and well. What's worse, the man has Bucky's partner pinned to the wall – choking the life out of her.

Bucky doesn't hesitate; he raises his rifle and sends a bullet through the man's temple. The man immediately slumps to the ground – Bucky's partner similarly falling down now that she's no longer being held up by her throat.

Bucky races over, kicking the man’s body out of the way as he goes to kneel before her. Blood covers her face. Though most of it belongs to the corpse on the floor beside them, the sight still sickens Bucky – defiling her usual purity.

One of her hands holds her chest to collect her breath while the other holds her thigh to stanch a gunshot wound. Bucky unzips his tactical vest to rip off a piece of his undershirt – quickly applying a makeshift tourniquet around her leg.

“We need to get you to the jet,” he says resolutely. “Can you stand?”

She nods, still struggling to breathe. Bucky helps her to her feet and, as soon as she’s standing, she tosses her arms around his neck. At first, he thinks she’s just lost her balance. But then she tightens her hold on him, pulling him into a suffocating hug.

Bucky is stunned for a second. Then, tentatively, he reciprocates – firmly wrapping his arms around her waist. He holds her for a few moments in complete silence – every thought banished from his mind other than the feeling of her body against his.

He eyes an outline on the wall behind her: a splatter of blood in the shape of a downward facing crescent moon – her head accounting for the negative space in the pattern. It’s a terrifying image. A crown of blood. A red halo.

A few sobs shake her frame and Bucky shushes her, rubbing a comforting hand over her back.

“It’s okay. You’re safe,” he whispers. He stares at the impression on the wall a while longer before finally shutting his eyes, turning his head to press his lips to her hair. “I’m here. I’ve got you, Angel.”

~*~

The image shifts once more.

She’s in his arms again. But this time, she’s in his bed. She lies beneath him, bared in all her glory. Her hair is splayed out around her head, creating a halo of locks.

“Do that thing with your hips,” she bites her lip, giving him a faux innocent look. “The thing that makes me scream.”

“You mean this?” He grinds against her, his length rubbing her bundle of nerves.

“YES!” She cries out. “THAT!”

He chuckles, continuing to grind his pelvis against hers. He doesn’t enter her yet – just simply rocks to and fro over her sensitive bud.

Her brows knit together, absorbed in the feeling he stirs in her belly. “Keep that up and you can make me wifey tomorrow,” she pants.

Bucky suddenly halts his hips, drawing a pathetic whine from her mouth. “What did you say?” He asks, bewilderment coloring his voice.

“We can go to the courthouse first thing in the morning for all I care,” she says breathlessly, trying to appease him. “Just keep moving,” she wriggles in an attempt to find that much-desired friction again.

He grabs her hips, forcing her to keep still. Cocking a brow, he gives her a confused look. “I’ve never asked you to marry me.”

She shrugs, “I know.”

“Then why did you say that?” He’s not angry, just perplexed.

Sighing, she pushes him onto his haunches, sitting up with him.

“Because... I know you want to ask me,” she says carefully, gauging his reaction. “And yet, you’re stopping yourself,” she frowns.

Bucky is stunned. She’s right. Totally, completely, one hundred percent right. He’s wanted to ask her for a while, but he’s never followed through. He doesn’t know how many times he’s caught himself browsing rings before stopping, refusing to humor the possibility of a marriage with her.

Matrimony is considered holy for a reason. It’s meant for those pure of heart and soul; people like her. Not for the damaged and broken; people like him. 

Thus, he can’t bring himself to subject her to that – to tether her to him when there’s so many others who are right for her. Better. Worthy.

She places a palm against his cheek, gently cradling his face. He leans into her hand, savoring the warmth her touch radiates.

“I love you, Bucky Barnes, more than anything in this world, and I don’t want to be with anyone else but you. So, if you’ll have me…,” she drops her hand from his face, grabbing his hand and weaving their fingers together. It’s a silent vow of unity. Commitment. Forever.

“...I’m all in.”

Bucky's speechless, his mind filled with disbelieving thoughts. This must be a dream. This seems too good to be true. This can't be real.

And yet, it is.

She wants him. This girl, this gift from God, this angel sent from heaven… wants him. Bucky's never felt more blessed in his life.

He rears forward, pulling her into a passionate kiss. She giggles against his mouth as he lays her back down, settling between her thighs. He lines up and slides into her with ease, feeling the way her warm walls hug him. 

Being with her like this is Earth-shattering. It steals his breath every time, lest his lecherous words desecrate such a wonderful, sacred act. 

This is bliss. Peace. Paradise.

~~~~~

Bucky wakes with a start, a whisper of her name falling from his lips. The bedsheets are twisted around his legs, trapping him in their cotton embrace. One of his hands is outstretched, grasping at the space beside him in bed. Cold. Empty. Alone. 

It’s been a while since he’s dreamed about her.

But no, they’re not just dreams. Memories. Things he’d actually experienced once upon a time – what feels like a lifetime ago. Really though, it’s not nearly been that long.

He grabs the pillow beside him, burying his face in the silk. It doesn’t smell like her. It hasn’t in a long time. A choked sob leaves his throat and Bucky’s quick to wipe away his tears – not wanting them to stain the pillowcase; it’d just be one more thing of hers he’d ruin.

He tosses and turns, willing himself to fall back asleep. This time, hopefully, without her beautiful visage filling his dreams. He’s not sure he could handle any more tonight.

~~~~~

Several more nights pass and each one has Bucky dreaming about her again and again – getting progressively more difficult as the nights roll on. It’s torture finding such sweet solace in his dreams only to wake back up to his bleak reality.

Of all the terrible things that have happened to Bucky, this is the cruelest joke God’s ever played on him. Bucky should’ve known there was a catch to meeting an angel. To loving one and being loved in return. To calling her his. 

In truth, Bucky always knew she was never his. She always belonged to Him. She was just on loan – just another one of His creations that had a 'return by' date. And that date has come and gone.

Bucky can’t keep doing this night after night. Seeing her face, hearing her voice, feeling her skin, but knowing it’s just a dream – knowing he’ll wake up alone once more – is the most painful thing he’s ever experienced. He’s tried enduring it for her sake – really tried with all his might – but he can’t do it anymore. He’s not strong enough.

Bucky never thought it would come to this – that he’d ever willingly subject himself to the decision he’s chosen. Not after what Hydra put him through for so many years. 

It took a lot on his part to convince the rest of the team, but he was able to make them see that this is the only thing that can mend his broken heart. Splintered soul. Fractured mind. 

Call him a coward, but it was easier being alone when he didn’t have anything else to compare it to. It wasn't quite living – that Bucky is certain of – but it was better than the mere surviving he does now.

His fingers graze the picture frame in his hand. He’s collected all of the other images of her, but this is the last one – his favorite one. Thus, he wants to enjoy one last look at it. 

She stands in a field of coral- and blush-colored peonies, a golden sun setting behind her. She smiles brightly at the camera. Glowing. Beaming. Radiant. Bucky traces the angle of her jaw, the curve of her lip, the line of her neck – all the places he used to do on her warm flesh. That feeling's now replaced by the cold glass in the frame.

“I love you,” he whispers, tears pricking his eyes. And if God is merciful... “Maybe I’ll see you again some day.”

He leans down, pressing a soft kiss against the glass. As the tears obscure his vision, he wipes them away – needing his final look at her to be through clear eyes.

“Goodbye, Angel.”

He sets the frame face down before exiting the room, heading to where Wanda waits for him.

~~~~~

Bucky paces back and forth in his room. He’s restless, but he’s not sure why. He feels like this day is important – that there’s something he should be doing – but he can’t remember what exactly. For all he knows, it’s just another mid-Spring day.

As he continues his tread, he hears a noise coming from the hall. Peeking into the corridor, he sees the remainder of the team not currently on a mission walking by. They’re dressed well – in their “Sunday best” as Bucky’s mother would’ve said – and Steve’s even holding a bouquet of some kind of pink flowers.

“...gonna visit her like we do every year,” Bucky hears Steve say. “He’d want us to, even if he doesn’t remember.”

Bucky steps into the hallway, curiosity piqued. “Who are you visiting?” He asks the group, stopping them in their tracks. “And why are you dressed like that? It’s like you’re going to church.”

They’re all silent for a moment, exchanging unreadable looks with one another. Finally, Steve speaks up. “Uh… we’re visiting my mom, Sarah. It’s the anniversary of her passing so I wanted to leave her these,” he gently waves around the flowers.

“And we thought we’d come along for, um, moral support,” Wanda adds, gesturing to her and Sam.

Oh. So that’s why Bucky felt like today held some importance. He’d apparently forgotten the date of Sarah Rogers’ passing.

“Do you mind if I come along?” Mrs. Rogers was an important woman to Bucky – almost like a second mother to him – and he wants to pay his respects.

The group exchanges another round of looks before eventually conceding, nodding for Bucky to join them. He quickly changes into more formal attire before heading out with the others.

The trip to the cemetery is relatively quick. However, along the way, the congregation makes a stop at a local florist’s – picking up a couple of additional bouquets.

“For Winnifred,” Steve offers one to Bucky.

“Right. Thanks,” Bucky accepts the white roses, realizing he should pay his own mother a visit since he’ll already be there. And while he finds it strange, Bucky doesn’t question why two bunches of flowers were purchased from the shop; he figures it’s none of his business.

The group arrives at the cemetery and traipses along the cobblestone path. Everywhere they turn, they’re surrounded by a maze of headstones. A sea of epitaphs. A monument of loss. 

They stop first at Sarah Rogers’ grave. Steve hands Wanda the bouquet of pink flowers before placing the roses atop the headstone. He tilts his head downwards, saying a few words of grace, before standing in silence.

Bucky closes his eyes, internally reflecting on his own words for Mrs. Rogers. After a few moments, he feels a hand on his shoulder.

“Come on. Let’s give him some time to himself,” Sam whispers.

Bucky opens his eyes, spotting Wanda rubbing a consoling hand over Steve’s back. Bucky looks over to Sam, nodding in agreement.

Bucky and Sam make their way over to Winnifred Barnes’ plot several rows away from where Steve and Wanda remain. Bucky sets the roses down before repeating his motions from earlier: closing his eyes and internally voicing his words.

After several minutes, Steve and Wanda rejoin their side – the pink flowers having disappeared from Wanda’s hand. Steve whispers something to Sam to which he nods.

“Excuse me for a moment,” Sam says, taking off towards the direction of the entrance.

Bucky watches after him, seeing him stop before another headstone.

“Would you like me to say a few words?” Steve asks, drawing Bucky’s attention back to Winnifred’s grave.

“Please,” Bucky gestures for Steve to go ahead.

As Steve begins talking, Bucky looks back over to Sam. He sees him press a kiss to his fingers before placing them against the headstone. Sam wipes at his cheeks, regaining his composure, before returning to the group.

Once Steve has finished his speech, the group heads to leave – having no other plots to visit. As they’re walking towards the entrance, Bucky dawdles at the back of the group. When he gets a chance, he separates from the others. He's curious to see who Sam paid a visit to and thus wants to investigate.

Bucky walks over a row or two, easily finding the plot he had seen Sam standing before. It’s a beautiful headstone: impressively large, rectangular-cut, white marble; someone must’ve really cherished this person to choose such an elegant monument for them. 

He notices the fresh, pink bouquet set atop the marble. It’s oddly similar to the one Wanda had been holding earlier, though, Bucky can’t imagine it is the same bunch. Why would Wanda have left it here?

Bucky doesn’t recognize the name engraved in the marble. While the woman shares his surname, so do many other thousands of people in New York. Besides, the hyphen in her name tells Bucky this woman is most likely not a blood relative of his – “Barnes” having been the surname she adopted from her partner in life.

He looks over the inscription on the headstone. There are no specific dates mentioned, just simply the years of her birth and death – the latter being only a few years ago. She was still a young woman – still had a long life ahead of her. He wonders what could’ve brought about an early demise for someone with so much life left to live.

Bucky reads over the rest of the engraved elegy. The last words impart a final goodbye from the woman’s loved ones.

A beloved daughter, friend, and wife. Rest in Paradise, “Angel”.

Bucky doesn’t know who this woman is, but whoever she was, she must have been deeply loved by those she left behind. And judging by the reaction Sam had while standing by her plot, she must have really been something special.

As with the other two graves he visited, Bucky thinks a few words of grace. It doesn’t matter that he doesn’t know her; it’s simply the respectful thing to do.

“It was nice to meet you…,” Bucky looks again at the plaque – the last word seemingly a term of endearment for her. “...Angel,” he addresses her.

The nickname rings with familiarity as it rolls off his tongue, but Bucky can’t place why. He lets his fingers lightly graze the marble as he passes it, walking back to join his team. After a day full of mourning, they all need a bit of a breather.

Once they arrive home, Bucky slinks to his room, shutting out the rest of the world with his door. He lays down in bed, closing his eyes as the sheets tenderly embrace him.

When it’s my time, will there be someone to leave me flowers? Would anyone ever want to?

Bucky doesn’t know the answers to these questions – completely unsure about what his future holds. For now, he’s resigned to continue living his life as he always has. 

Comfortable. Peaceful. Alone.

__________

A/N: I’m sorry, but I did tell you it was sad. Also, I hope I didn’t ruin this song for anyone. It’s actually quite upbeat and not at all depressing like this fic lol. Anyways, I’d love to know what you thought! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!

[fandomfluffandfuck]

33 opposite of your blog 🤣🤣🤣

33. What turns you off?

Literally exactly the opposite of my blog haha, usually its all about what turns me on lmao.

TW: mentions of jealousy, knives, & self harm under the cut

The immediate turn off I think of is sincere and serious jealousy. I'm not even really into play jealousy all that much if I'm honest. It just doesn't do it for me. Play jealously that isn't grounded in reality and is just dirty talk, I don't mind. It's not my go-to though, by far lol. And I even find the occassional moaning "mine"/"yours" thing read in erotica to be hot, so I get the appeal on some level. However, in real life, it's not for me. I don't know why. Personally, I find that it's an emotion that should be addressed and I suppose I can't separate the fantasy easy? Who knows lol. No hate if you like it though!

Another would be coprophilia/scatophilia which I feel is self explanatory. Gimmie cum/semen, vaginal fluid/slick, lube, sweat, drool, tears, even blood, and even piss and I'm fine. I'm even fine with a little, tiny bit of scat because... anal be like that sometimes and you gotta move on lol. Just not that fetish, it's not my thing.

Also what aways pops into my head as a no-go/turn off is edge play with actual cutting happening. Knife/edge play without breaking the skin can sometimes even be something I don't want to see, however it doesn't freak me totally out or anything. I just scroll past it if I see it, it's not something I, like, blacklist, y’know? For me (and this is about to get a little dark, fair warning) the imagery of edge play like that is too correlated to self harm. Just in my head. So, yeah, it's very hard for that to ever be sexy to me :/

Rapid fire, as to not end on that note:

TPE (total power exchange) with a Master/Slave dynamic that is 24/7. It's too much power in my hands and sounds too exhausting lol. Not my thing again lol, I, personally, could never.

Any IRL non-consensual thing that's not premeditated (as in CNC (consensual non-consensual). Non-consensual erotica is different (as in I will, occasionally, read HTP (HYDRA trash party)).

Fetishized "bug chasing" (a.k.a intentionally attempting to be infected with some kind of STI (usually HIV). Although, unfortunately I do understand that bug chasing is big in some areas because unhoused people want to get HIV because in certain US states, if you're HIV+ you get access to free healthcare and even housing. That is desperation and that isn't a turn on or a turn off, nor should it be. It's the fetish of it that turns me off, not because HIV+ people are gross or unable to be attractive/desirable/whatever, just because... I don't get it. The crisis of HIV in the LGBTQ+ community and wider world is too deeply burned in me.)

Negative/close minded people?

Uhhh, I think that's it lol. I hope the answer was interesting!

[lolabangtan]

the lady with the flaming sword | ksj

Kim Seokjin, crown prince of a flowery and lush southern kingdom, is sent along with his troops to no man’s land in search of a group of grave robbers that had been seen prowling around the sepulchre of King Yong, who was once his father’s greatest ally. However, the prince loses sight of his men and ends up at the gates of a black castle that feels rather familiar.

Word count: 9k

Warnings: BDSM (masochist/sadist dynamics), paranormal, horror, angst (don’t read it if you’re feeling specially sad today lol it ruined me too), emotional manipulation.

# sub!Seokjin, prince!jin, dom!reader, princess!reader, ‘friends’ to ‘enemies’ to ‘lovers’, no the title is not an analogy for dick, vaginal sex, oral sex (both male and female receiving), use of restraints, choking, knife and blood play, seokjin is a painslut.

Blood play is pretty dangerous, even if I ignore any of its risks in this fic for literary purposes. Be careful of major blood vessels and STDs. Summing up, this story does not portray blood play in a realistic way (or in the way that should be in real life, at least). Honestly, i went feral with this one, too.

Those were dangerous lands. Plagued by demons and dark creatures, the road that supposedly led behind the mountains was rocky, and riding his horse was becoming incredibly painful, especially in his buttocks. Seokjin should rush if he didn’t want to end up as some beast’s supper.

“I have to turn left next… And follow the river,” he managed to read, turning the map upside down in an attempt to clarify the drawings. “What river? What road! I can’t even see beyond my own nose!”

The land on which his mare trotted was dry and barren, allowing the silhouettes of its horseshoes to be marked on it, but the wild wind would take only a few seconds to blow them away.

Seokjin had lost his men in the most ridicule of the ways—after ordering them to split so they could explore more of the area at once. The wind, however, blew the sand into the already dusty and dimmed sky, and soon he could no longer see any of the soldiers that were with him roughly a few minutes before. And there was no sound around him, only the mocking whistling of the wind.

The prince wanted to trust them and hoped to reunite with them at some point, even if the Forgotten Lands were elusive in their directions and all the rocks that appeared on the road in front of him looked the same.

The Forgotten Lands were dark and wilted—they had been forgotten for a reason. A place where one had to walk carefully to stay alive, it was a territory surrounding other kingdoms and whose history was no longer known. One could still distinguish roads and ruined houses, burned by the fires of battles led by those who did not want to risk destroying their own land.

As far as Seokjin could remember, the ruins of King Yong’s kingdom had to be near there, on the border with the Led Mountains.

All his father told him before he left was that a handful of robbers had been seen by neighbouring kingdoms prowling the grave of the northern royal family. That, and that he should be careful—after the Great Terror of the warlords who took power after the Revolution, the lands of the late King Yong were infested with outlaws, banshees, succubus, and other creatures from hell.

Fortunately, Seokjin hadn’t encountered any of them yet, and his main worry now was finding his men so he could catch the raiders.

The northern kingdom had never been known for its beauty, he remembered, but he could never have imagined that it could look like this. Dry, infertile, riddled with black ash and a reddish sky. It was truly a heart-breaking landscape when Seokjin recalled what it used to look like.

But his priority now was to find them. He couldn’t waste any more time plainly thinking.

The hours passed and only more arid and ruined land opened up in front of him. Some of the ruined constructions were still burning, probably lit by an assault or encounter between bandits.

Beyond the large pointy stones that pierced the thick clouds of ashes, an esplanade of lava and fire stretched as far as the eye could see. Seokjin gently pulled his mare’s reins to slow the pace and guided the animal through each of the stones after ensuring that they were solid.

He really wanted to take off his helmet, and his cuirass, and practically every single piece of his armour until he was wearing nothing but his aketon and underpants—the heat was barbarous.

However, if he did so, he’d probably get killed, and Seokjin certainly was much keener to keep himself out of the morgue rather than suffering through a bit of sweat and the sweltering feeling of his fringe dampened and pasted to his forehead.

“This map is useless,” he resolved.

The illustrations and patterns were certainly not helping at all. The place where he was probably wasn’t even appearing in the map.

Suddenly, a loud roar made the ground shake.

Seokjin’s mare baulked when he tried to move his legs slightly back, so he pressed softly with both knees to stop her from bolting. “Whoa! Duchess, halt! You’ll make me fall off you!” he exclaimed. Then Seokjin put his hand on her neck. “Lower your head, just like that. Good girl.” He realised he was gasping, too, so the man forced himself to calm down. “Let’s take a deep breath.”

Where could a howl like that have come from? Everyone knew of the beasts that swarmed the Forgotten Lands, all the banshees and sirens and demons, for they were the best place for those vermin to be left alone, but Seokjin knew of no animal that could produce such a sound.

Without looking away from the bright scarlet horizon, he listlessly beckoned Duchess to continue trotting along the side of the esplanade.

The rocks seemed more stable there, and he still did not want to demand much concentration from the mare, so they advanced towards the rocky hills where the noise had come from.

Seokjin soon realised that the growls were not growls per se—instead, they were the sounds made by the black stones of a half-ruined castle crashing as they twined around each other with the quietude of a snake. As crumbling as it seemed, the fortress stood. Barely, in tears, under the terrifying red sky and buried under the thick ash.

But it stood.

The stone walls and ramparts seemed to have come to life, although they were already dying. They writhed like a wounded man, they struggled with death, they moved though they wished to collapse. What kind of heartless desire was keeping them up?

He knocked on the gate and it opened at once.

The wood creaked slowly as it shifted backwards. The gate was scorched in the centre and splintered at the corners, but it moved firmly, as if offering him to enter at will.

Behind the giant gatehouse lay a deserted courtyard of dirt. Banners and flags, whose imagery had been erased by time, still waved in the strong wind. The battlements, on the other hand, had collapsed, and the gaps they left had breached the stones of the wall with their weight.

Seokjin approached the keep despite Duchess’ neighing. Surely she was only frightened by the grunts caused by the stones.

When he reached the entrance to the keep, he got off his mare to inspect the gateway.

“Hello?” The hall behind the half-ruined door was empty. Lamps and curtains flickered with the wind that blew through holes in the walls and whistled through the corridors. A chill ran down Seokjin’s back. “Is anyone here? I come in peace! I’m Kim Seo-”

“I don’t allow just anyone into my castle, Sire,” he heard, the gloomy voice echoing throughout the stone walls, “And I don’t let anyone out of it, either.”

You had waited for him to move into the room, and now you had cornered the man, blocking the exit to the door. Seokjin stared at you as he stepped back, getting deeper and deeper into the bowels of your castle.

“Run.” You could use a hunt, a chase, to entertain yourself today. The days were endless in the lands no one remembered. “Run and get out of this place if you don’t want to be killed.”

“Who are you? What is this place?”

But you raised your sword, and Seokjin flinched, having finally understood that no gallant act would get him out of that situation. He would have time to seek an answer to his questions when he left that castle safe and sound. Only the wind enclosed within the walls and the stone that ringed beneath his running feet would witness his cowardice.

Seokjin ran up the spiral staircase that would likely lead him to the top of the tower. From there, he could jump down the collapsed stones on the battlements and go back to the gateway.

The sound of your footsteps made it clear that you, on the contrary, were not in a hurry.

However, as Seokjin ran, the charred figures around him began to come alive. Suddenly, the statues and paintings pulsed in his memory, regaining their colour. The walls seemed to be reborn in his mind, and he recognized it instantly.

Stopping to catch his breath, he smiled, cheeks aching from the happy grimace.

The sudden life seemed surreal, but they throbbed within his memory, moving, rummaging through the dirt of what he thought was already forgotten, for his own healing, slow as it had been. For the sake of his sanity. The lights and glows of people chatting and walking, and the idle ado of the market outside the keep.

Seokjin approached the statue of a young woman and caressed her chin, feeling warmth under his finger pads.

Your cold fingers appeared as a ghostly presence around his nape, drawing him towards you to whisper in his ear. “I think I’ve had enough of playing cat and mouse. Who are you? I don’t like it when people show up at my castle unannounced—stay still or else I’ll slit your throat.”

“Nice,” he blurted out with an amused grin when you made him hold his hands up to chain him, “I like things like this.”

You scoffed, taking off his helmet and throwing it to the ground. “Freak.”

“So mean. You haven’t changed a bit.”

The way your eyes shone, sharply lit by the orangish candlelight, sent a shiver, both of thrill and the most absolute happiness, down his spine. But you shook your head and hung the chains onto a free wall-candlestick hook.

“I don’t know what could you possibly mean, sire.”

“It’s me,” sobbed Seokjin, pulling the chains to draw your attention towards him with the clinging sound, “It’s me, Y/N. Seokjin. I can’t have aged so much that you can’t recognise me anymore. In that case, consider me deeply aggrieved.”

He was bending his back, offering himself to you. With utter trust. Raising your hands to stare at them for a moment, you realised that only a man who had known you all his life could show himself in such a way and with such a smile. So you looked back at him, frowning upon the sound of his name.

“Seokjin?”

“Y/N,” he breathed.

You cupped his face, drinking from each and every one of his features. His dark hair falling on his forehead. His lips, pillow-like and wet—painfully so, perhaps waiting for a kiss from yours. “Is it really you? Seokjin as in…?”

“Yes, I’m Prince Seokjin. It’s me, Y/N. And this is-this is you! Princess… Y/N, it’s you.” Seokjin sipped his nose as two thick tears rolled down his cheeks. A wide smile, however, decorated his face. “How is it possible? How can you be alive? The king, the queen, your brothers… Are they…?”

Looking down, you shook your head.

“There’s only me left.”

Seokjin’s arrival was definitely a pleasing surprise. It had been so many years since your loneliness began that you didn’t expect to see anyone ever again.

“Please,” you heard, “Take them off.” He was squirming, his arms hanging from the chains and his thighs restless.

You smiled. “It’s been so long… How long already? I can’t remember. But I finally have you all chained up for me, and you want to leave already?” Taking his face in your hands again, your lips hovering over his, you saw a blush taking hold of his neck and creeping up to his cheeks. “Won’t you at least kiss me?”

“That—that wouldn’t be right, Y/N,” he babbled, looking down at your lips either way.

“Let me feed you, then. You’re safe here.”

Once you unchained him, you led him into the Great Hall, where you offered him a feast of which he had no doubt, as he told you that he had come to the Forgotten Lands to capture some grave robbers but had lost sight of his men during the journey.

You were lucky you could take some food from the thoughtless mavericks who wouldn’t blink twice before delving into the Forgotten Lands.

“It would be impossible to bring these lands back to life,” you explained, “Farming was never enough and the mountains have always made trade difficult. King Chong was more enthusiastic about war treaties than-” You looked up to Seokjin, who was devouring the meat as if he had been starving for years. “Is it good? The bath will be ready by the time you finish.”

Sitting in the middle of the deserted hall, with the only company of your presence and the shadows that projected the red light, the man finally looked at you and smiled. “Sounds good. Then… Can I stay a while longer? We have so much to talk about, Y/N… About whether you’ll come back with me.”

“Come back… with you?”

The seconds of silence in which you looked into his eyes passed for him like sharp blades cutting through his chest.

“Let’s not talk about it now, Seokjin,” you continued, “Eat a little more. You must be starving.”

“Why? Do you want to stay here?”

“I like it here. Nobody bothers me, nobody expects me to be anything. It’s so different from the heartless nest of snakes where I grew up,” you mumbled, chin resting on your palm, as you watched him swallow one of the grapes in the bunch, “What did you remember this place to be like?”

“It was so warm,” Seokjin retorted with a frown, “despite being a cold place. Your family was so warm, so… welcoming. It was a place full of life, always. So colourful. I loved coming to visit you.” His gloomy smile broke your heart. “We’d sneak into the kitchens when night fell to steal scones and buns, remember? And I’d take the blame whenever we got caught so you wouldn’t miss any of the balls and dance with me.”

“Deep down, you have always been my knight in shining armour, haven’t you?” you mumbled, caressing his chin to wipe away a drop of wine on his chin.

Seokjin licked the pad of your thumb without hesitation when you offered it to him.

“You never let me.” He was staring at you—challenging you? You weren’t sure. But the way his dark eyes glowed with the dim candlelight made you feel a delicious and exciting knot in your belly. “There was always something stopping you. You never… fully let me into your heart.”

You chuckled. “There are so many things you didn’t know back then.”

“Tell me, then.”

His question was clear. Seokjin wanted to know why his princess, the woman of his life, the one who would have been his future queen, had never been entirely his. You couldn’t blame him, and you were quite eager to understand it yourself. Why things had to turn out to be like that.

“What would be the point now?” you whispered.

“Seokjin.”

The fumes of the bath had left him drowsy, and he seemed to be engrossed in his thoughts, both arms resting on the black marble edge. The man heard your voice echoing through the bath and turned around, catching a glimpse of your figure approaching him from behind the darkness of the large room.

“Wait!” he spluttered. You could hear the sound of water splashing as the man moved nervously to reach for the robe you had given him. “Give me a second. I’m—I’m naked.”

Once you reached the bathtub, you smiled down at him, amused by his sudden embarrassment. “Do you mind if I join you?”

Your question took him by surprise.

Childhood friends as you had been, you were still the daughter of a king, a lady—the lady to whom he was devoted. The thought of seeing you bare was inconceivable to him. It had always been. Yours had been a body for him to admire from the most tender love and to imagine naked only in the solitude of his chamber.

Without a response, you took off your robe and let the thin fabric slip down your shoulders, exposing your breasts. Soon after, it fell to your feet, and the rest of your skin was at the disposal of his intrigued eyes.

“My sweet boy,” you laughed, stepping into the water.

Blushing before your naked figure, Seokjin looked away to stare at his own arms tangling around each other, but you grabbed his chin gently so he would look at you again. “I don’t wish to… spoil your maidenly decency, Y/N,” he managed to explain.

“I have no decency left, Seokjin,” you chuckled as your breath hit his lips, “Nor any desire to have one. Not with you finally here.”

After all those years of grieving and mourning both you and the love he felt towards you, the love that could have grown to be so splendid, had life and fate not been so merciless with you— all of it exploded sweetly when you kissed him, and it spilled over your lips like honey.

His hands travelled to your waist as yours moved to his cheeks, trying to deepen the embrace.

“We would have been so happy together,” he muttered, “If only I had refused to go and fight in Emperor Callas’ crusade… We would have been able to get married in time. You could have come to Orleil and avoided the siege.”

You listened carefully as you nibbled his earlobe. “It wasn’t your fault. I’m here with you—I’m fine.”

“Yes, and I can’t believe it, my love.” And then he looked up at you with the most hopeful and relieved smile that could ever exist.

“The rebels got what they deserved. The Great Terror ended the peace of this kingdom, and it ended them, too. Now oblivion is part of its history. This castle is mine. I am this castle’s. No king thinks his own kingdom will ever be considered a Forgotten Land. It was no one’s fault.”

Seokjin simply kissed you again, deeper, nipping your lips as he tried to swallow you and melt you into his arms. You felt his hardness brush your entrance with its tip, and he whimpered. “Forgive me,” he moaned, “I got carried away with… I’m sorry.”

“Do you still want to preserve my womanly decency, my love? I’d rather take you to my chamber.”

Clumsily and awkwardly, you led him by the hand to the sleeping quarters and slowly opened the door to your chamber, letting the expectation grow inside him as it also grew inside you.

“Earlier, when you were chained up at my mercy, you seemed to be quite fond of the restraints… The bulge in your trousers gave you away.” Seokjin looked up at you, mortified. “The curtain cords on my bed are quite sturdy—just ask me and I’ll have you at my disposal.”

He swallowed hard. “Please.”

“So polite,” you chuckled, pointing to the bed for him to lie on his back.

Once Seokjin got rid of his clothing, trying to escape from your piercing gaze, and lay down as you asked, you straddled him and tied his hands to the wooden headboard. The knot around his hands was not too tight, but it was tight enough to send a sweet chill of helplessness through him when he pulled to free himself.

In case you needed to get him rid of the restraints quickly, you took your dagger and stretched out to leave it close.

At the sight of your silver knife between your fingers, Seokjin trembled underneath you.

The way he did it, though, licking his lips, staring into your eyes, pulling at his restrictions to taste the helplessness, made you turn tilt head to the side and bend over his chest. One of your arms rested next to his head, and the other travelled to his cheek to caress the skin with the blade.

“Aren’t you scared of my little toy, Seokjin?” you purred, amused, and wondered if you could make him come only stroking his tip and putting your knife against his throat.

He rashly shook his head. “I-” But the man choked on his spit, making you pierce his beautiful neck with your eyes. “It makes my… my belly tingle, and feels somewhat… It makes me hot. It makes me-makes me want you to—I don’t know. Sorry.”

“Stop apologising for everything you say. Can’t you see how wet I am?”

He nodded and moved his head upwards until he forced you to push on his neck with your knife. “I have no money with me, my lady. I left my sack of gold with my braies,” he joked.

“Oh?” Licking your lips, you rested your butt on your thighs again. “I don’t believe your word, good sir. Perhaps I’ll have to take your wealth by force. You’re not afraid of my toy? Maybe you’ll be afraid of what I can do to you with it.”

His dick twitched between your butt cheeks, making you grind against his lower belly while losing your balance.

Your jerky move, however, accidentally brushed the blade of your knife against Seokjin’s belly, and a lonely tear of crimson, glossy blood flowed from his skin. As willing as you were to apologise, his sudden moan led you to bend down and lick it clean. It was sweet, just like you had imagined, and had a somewhat honey-like taste that made you drool all over him.

“Y/N,” he suddenly whispered, “I’m so hard. It-it feels good.”

“I see.”

Slowly, you dragged the blade across the skin of his inner thighs, fascinated by the sight of his flushed cock hardening beyond imagination.

You were going to have fun like you haven’t had in decades.

Seokjin’s deep groan encouraged you to bend down between his legs and lick the tear of blood that had spilled from the thin wound. “So good,” he moaned, the feeling of both your lips near his dick and the sting on his leg becoming too much to handle.

Then you sucked into the cut.

“Shit!” His cock twitched next to you. “Stop teasing me, please, Y/N.”

Wishing he could taste his blood on your lips, you reached down to bend over him and kissed him, wrapping your fingers around both sides of his hair.

“As my little prince wishes.”

After amusing yourself for a while with his whimpers, licking his tip with small, short strokes of your tongue, you decided to pull and end to his pleas and took his cock into your mouth, wrapping your lips around it and sucking.

“Mmh-shit! God, so good!”

Tightening his thighs highlighted the pain of the cuts on his inner thighs but, sickly enough, it gave him chills all over his body that built up in his belly. It only made him bend his back, trying to make you swallow more of him.

“Look at you, my prince, so ruined and close,” you whispered against his shaft, pumping it.

Then you travelled back to his legs and reopened the cuts with your fingertips, drawing more blood, to sucked into them without stopping the motion of your other hand.

Seokjin moaned from the depths of his chest and pulled on the restraints. “So close! So, so close!”

“Are you going to give it to me, my love? Give me all your seed, all your blood, all of you. Give it to me, come in my mouth. Don’t you want to fill it with your load, Seokjin? You’ll be doing it in a second if you’re good for me and let me suck your blood. True royal blood for me. All for me.”

“Cum… mouth! Yes! Suck me!” His loud pleas were making the walls tremble. So powerful. You obliged, excited for the upcoming meal. “Faster, please, don’t stop!”

“Did you ever picture me like this when we were younger, Seokjin? Kneeling between your legs and sucking your dripping cock after it got hard because you’re a pain-slut,” you asked against his opened flesh, peppering it with kisses.

When your hand noticed his dick twitching harder, you began to stroke the tip with the pad of your thumb, playing with the slit while your teeth took one last bite at his inner thigh. Then you sat on your knees to watch Seokjin squirming over your sheets.

“I asked you a quest-”

“You-fuck! You know I did! I did! I was so eager for us to get married, Y/N, so eager to take you home and lay you in my bed and bury—burying into your wet, warm cunt and never leave!”

“You earned your treat,” you muttered.

“Yes, please! It feels so-so good!” groaned Seokjin, “Thank you, thank you! Hng, shit, so good!”

With only a couple more strokes of your tongue on his length, you noticed the warm flesh twitching, and his load spurted into your mouth, bubbly and dense. It was full of life, full of him. So, you parsimoniously swallowed down everything you wanted.

“I want to taste you, too,” he groaned, “Please.”

Pursing your lips to hide a smirk, you straddled his head after taking off your robe and let him nuzzle your core and its wetness, hoping it’d drive him crazy. “Why don’t you lick it, my prince? Don’t be shy—I’ve been dwelling on those lusty lips of yours all over my soaked cunt since I first saw you.”

“Mmh-more!” he mumbled against your clit and did as told.

You obliged, burying yourself onto his face to leave him little room to breathe—but he was loving it, the slut, slurping and licking and kissing and fucking your core with his tongue, unravelling on the feeling of the soft flesh of your thighs brushing against his ears and the way his head would hit the pillow every time you rammed into his face.

And hell, you were loving it, too.

“So good, my love, you’re doing so well,” you moaned, throwing back your head, “I’m going to come, prince. See, you’re going to make me come with those sinful lips of yours!”

The anticipated climax finally hit, and you had to stop yourself from pulling his hair harder, or else you’d hurt him in a not so nice way. Seokjin drank any remains of arousal there could be left in your cunt and finally let go of you, allowing your exhausted hips to sit down on his chest.

You felt his hardness against your butt. “My god, Seokjin, I can’t believe you’re ready for more straight away,” you chuckled.

“Ride me.” His whimpered request made your core tingle, and you looked down at him, at his dark, glassy eyes, at his thick lips that still glowed with your arousal. “Please—ride me raw. I can’t believe this-that this is happening but, please, I need to be inside of you.”

Of course he did. He had been waiting for this moment all his life.

You straddled him, teasing your core with his tip until Seokjin was whining beneath you, using the ropes to propel up his hips. The message was clear.

The feeling of someone stretching you was reborn from their ashes. A groan escaped your lips and Seokjin smiled, overjoyed to know that you liked to feel him inside you. And so it was—you would never tire of his cock slowly sinking into your pussy, rubbing your walls until he bottomed out.

“Is it as good as you imagined when we were kids, you naughty boy?” you asked with a grin, nibbling his earlobe.

“Oh, mhf-fuck, it’s even better! You’re so tight, and wet, and warm, and I can feel you all-all around me, god! I can’t-” He began to thrust up into you, chasing his orgasm. “Yes, oh, shit! Ah-ah-mph! Please, please, I need to come, so bad, inside!” When you pushed your hips against his one more time, he hissed as he looked up at you. “Please, Y/N, I’m so close!”

With your hands cupping his face, you kissed him deeply. It ignited a fire within you that forced your body to go feral, to suck him into you completely and scratch his skin until even the tiniest portion of him was printed on your finger pads. The feeling of his cock rubbing on your walls was truly getting the best of you.

He was mesmerised by the picture of your figure straddling him, riding him into oblivion, and you couldn’t help yourself from drinking from his glossy gaze.

“Heavens, Seokjin, you feel so good,” you moaned against his lips.

“P-please,” he insisted out of breath.

Seokjin was noticeably getting harder inside of you, his balls tight and ready to give you all of him. “You’ve been doing so well, prince. Using your cock and your dirty mouth to get me off.”

“I’m close!” Seokjin turned his face to the side, unable to contain the pleasure within his body. “Please, don’t want to come with-without your permission! Please, please, princess, my lady, I’m so close!” he cried. His heels kicked the bedding as he writhed. “I’m-I’m coming!”

In a second—and without your permission—you had him spilling all his cum into you, throwing back his head so his dreamy, swan-like neck was at the disposal of your hungry mouth.

“I’d eat you up if I could, Seokjin, my love,” you growled as your lips sucked and bit into his skin.

Your hips ramming into his helped him ride out his climax, and soon he was begging you to stop and demanding a hug from you, to which you obliged with much enthusiasm. “Goodness, Y/N, I’m-I don’t think I know how to talk anymore.”

“You don’t need to,” you whispered against his lips.

Apart from eliciting an erection and consequently several orgasms from him, the knife you had taken out earlier fulfilled its mission and cut the cords with which you had tied the prince. Shortly after, as you tore yourself away from him, Seokjin stretched out on the sheets, fighting against the urge to sleep that was growing on him by the minute.

“You’re exhausted, my love. Time for bed.”

The fire and lava that surrounded the castle filled the room with violent reddish light. It used to make it difficult for you to sleep—it was terrifying—so you got out of bed and went to the window to draw the curtains while you put out the flame on your candlestick.

“Don’t-” His hand grabbed yours and you look down at him, staring at the way his eyes glowed with the dim candlelight. “I… I’m still afraid of the dark. Don’t blow them out.”

You nodded and put the candlestick back on the table. “As you wish.” After you opened back the curtains, you dipped a cloth in the water of the basin and approached Seokjin. “Spread your legs, love. I have to clean your cuts.”

“In the end, it was me who bled on your sheets.”

You smirked. “And you can’t pretend you didn’t enjoy it as much as I did.”

Seokjin had decided to stay in the castle until his men returned. They would be looking for him, surely, and the place was not difficult to find—there were hardly any buildings left standing in the Forgotten Lands.

When you two were not frolicking in bed, you spent your time around the keep and within the walls. Slowly, the light returned to the dark castle of the king in the north.

Seokjin loved to hear the birds chirping in the morning and to wake up with the woman he loved in his arms. He’d kiss your temple, turn you over to kiss you some more on the lips, whisper sweet nothings in your ear, and nuzzle your neck until you convinced him that both you and he had things to do.

The way he whined made you frown on your way to the bed, and Seokjin hugged you when you sat up next to him.

“What’s the matter?”

“Your cousin was such a brute,” he pouted, “I can still feel the cut on my ankle. He almost made me limp.”

You could only laugh at his complaints, welcoming into your arms as he put one of his legs on top of yours to pull you closer and hug your side. “What can I say—I kept all the wits of my bloodline, love,” you joked against the crown of his head.

“I’m so glad my grandfather banned inbreeding.”

Your breaths began to become even. The morning light was filtering more strongly through the windows, and the sound of the market people outside the keep hummed with mockery that you had to get out of bed.

Seokjin started caressing your bare belly with his finger pads, drawing invisible shapes on the skin while his head rested on your breasts. “What if you become pregnant?”

His question took you by surprise.

“Fortunately, that won’t happen,” you retorted.

Out of the blue, he got on top of you and aligned his dick with your entrance. You felt him slowly stretching you out and, soon after that, he was thrusting into you, pleadingly peppering your cheeks and neck with pecks. The lack of warming up made it take you a little longer to get used to his cock rubbing your walls, so you hissed against his hair.

“Co-come back with me. Be my princess, my queen, Y/N, please, please,” he gasped into the hollow of your neck, “Don’t you know how-how happy will e-everyone be when they find out you survived? My parents will be so… so happy!”

What you wouldn’t do to follow him. To go with him and be his queen, the queen you knew you could become. The life you knew you deserved. Not that black, ashy castle that only stood up because it lived on your famished spirit. Not your rotten, cursed existence.

But you had managed, with his delirious love, to make that dying fortress look a little bit like home. It was like magic.

You wanted your magic prince to stay with you forever.

“I’m the forgotten princess of a forgotten land,” you retorted anyways, breathing hard, “I’m a forgotten soul. There is no room for me in a place where things remain and queens give birth to future kings. This is my place now, Seokjin—I can’t leave.”

Your words were accompanied by a groan as Seokjin lowered his hand to your clit, rubbing it, perhaps hoping that, if he gave you enough pleasure, you would agree to go with him.

As for your hands, they moved to his neck and your thumbs pressed on his trachea. What you wouldn’t do to ruin him, to wreck him with your very hands, to suck him into your own body and see him vanish within you. Perhaps he’d ask for mercy. Perhaps he’d ask for more.

Perhaps, if you snuck into his mind with enough strength, if you pulled his strings and played with him just right, he’d be yours, yours, yours.

Seokjin shivered over you, gasping for air.

His thumb rubbing your clit had begun to take effect on you: your thighs tightened as you felt the knot in your stomach get wider, flooding your whole body with anticipation until it exploded and you shove his dick into your cunt, again and again, to ride out your orgasm.

Seokjin’s hand grabbed yours and it was not until then that you noticed his reddened face.

“I-I’m close,” he babbled, still trying to catch his breath after you let go of him. Once his chest finally began to rise and fall steadily, he looked at you in the eye. “I’m going to cum. Do that again, please.”

You nodded. “Pinch my arm when you want me to stop.”

Silly you. He was already yours—utterly yours. Handing himself over on a platter, you could ask him for his heart, ploughing his own chest open, and Seokjin would give it to you.

He thrust into you slowly, trying to move as evenly as possible not to rush his climax. Whimpers came from his contracted throat, as if they were struggling to surface, soft words of sweet nothings. Seokjin was getting closer and the lack of air was not helping him to hold it.

“You’re so tight,” he managed to say with a wet voice, drool trickling down his wide-open mouth. He was too close, too close, it felt too good. You thrust up to shove him deeper into you, and Seokjin pushed himself harder. If he could talk, he’d ask you to ruin him with your hands right away. Ruin him and keep him on your palms so he could be with you forever. “Shit! I-I’m coming!”

When you felt a pinch on your wrist, the vision above you of his red face contracting through his climax looked divine to you. So much that it took you most of your willpower to let go of his neck. But you did, and Seokjin came instantly as he pushed the remnants of his orgasm into you.

“So good! Y/N, so good, yes, thank you!” he moaned against your chest.

You moved your lips to his ear. “It would’ve been a pity not to put that swan neck of yours to good use… You did so well, my prince. You gave me so much. I can feel your seed dripping out of me.”

Seokjin raised his head to kiss you, and you accepted the gesture with a conciliatory and soothing smile, letting him sink onto you and merging with you in an embrace. However, his tongue slowly began to grow weaker, sleep taking its toll on his body, and he ended up falling asleep next to you while you played with his hair.

He was yours, yours, yours—and yet he was not.

You decided to close your eyes for a while next to him, and you ended up losing track of time until you noticed his stomach roaring next to you. You let out a gentle laugh through your nose.

When you opened your eyes, you saw him sitting on the bed.

Seokjin was rubbing his left ankle with a grimace but turned to look at you as soon as you made it known that you were awake. “Good morning.”

“Morning, my love,” you groaned, “I assume you are hungry. Or is it a beast what you’ve got roaring in there?”

“Do you want to find out?”

With a naughty laugh, you took his foot carefully to lift it and put a cushion under it.

“My cousin was indeed a brute. Heavens, does it still hurt?” you muttered then, grabbing a bandage. Perhaps that way it’d move around less and it wouldn’t hurt so much. “After all this time?”

Seokjin laughed. “It was the other ankle. I just bumped this one earlier.” You let go of his leg with an apology, but Seokjin smiled and turned over to nuzzle into your neck. “That doesn’t mean I don’t like it when you touch me, Y/N.”

“Silly boy… Are you tired?” He nodded, eyes closed and chest rising and falling quietly. “You stay in bed. I’ll take care of breakfast—need you with renewed strength to satiate me, my love. You can’t feed me with those tired little eyes of yours.”

“I need my beauty nap, too,” added the man.

“Nap? You just woke up!”

But Seokjin snorted, turning over once again and tucking himself into the blankets. You told him not to come down too late, or else he’d end up with a sick stomach. However, the concepts of too late and too early did not exist anymore in the castle, so you couldn’t really blame him.

You waited for him in the Great Hall for an hour, but he didn’t show up, so you decided to go back to the sleeping quarters and wake him up.

On the way to your room, you passed by the chapel and saw Seokjin.

Your dry heart stopped in terror.

He was standing in front of a perfectly arranged bunch of bones, still covered by a silk gown and decorated with tons of expensive jewellery, as if time hadn’t passed. A beautiful sword lay embedded in the ground, piercing its chest.

His eyes could not leave the image, however—and you feared that he’d come to the moment when he’d find out everything.

“I told you not to come in here,” you grunted, striding across the room.

Seokjin looked up at you, painfully, avoiding the sight of the bony skeleton lying on the ground. “This sword—this sword is mine. I gave it to you after I won your birthday tournament with it.”

“Yes,” you replied with a forced smile, “I’ve kept it since then.”

“And this was its ultimate role. To kill you.” It felt hard, escaping from his piercing gaze. “I can recognise your clothes and jewellery. That’s your corpse—you can’t fool me any further,” he uttered at your bewildered grimace.

“If you pull out that sword, this whole place will fall apart. It’s been stuck and burning since that day,” you muttered. His intense gaze was still fixed on your eyes.

“If I pull it out, will you fall apart, too?” You nodded absently. “Why?”

“You know why.”

Seokjin looked away from you, pursing his lips. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you,” he whispered then.

“It doesn’t matter, Seokjin,” you said as a cooing smile stretched your lips, “Your memory has been keeping me here all these years. Alive, in some way. Waiting for you… Waiting for you to stay here—with me.”

Then Seokjin turned to take you in his arms and kiss you. He pressed himself against your chest and kissed you with all his might as you moved your hands to the back of his head, assuring him that you were there with him.

“Is this the reason why you can’t leave? The reason you’re still here?” he asked against your lips.

You chuckled. “I am this castle now. I stand, but at what cost?”

He ended up asking to go somewhere else, for the picture of your corpse was engraved by fire in his mind and he claimed to be feeling weaker and weaker.

“So you can’t—you can’t really come back with me.”

His shivering voice broke the remains of your heart and you raised your hand to cup his sombre face, on the verge of tears.

“Of course,” you whispered, “And I can’t ask you to stay. You’re a prince, a future king. You’ll have to marry a well-bred lady, someone up to the standards and who won’t blink at the thought of being a queen. I can’t be that queen, Seokjin. Not anymore.”

He couldn’t believe he asked you to go to Orleil with him. He could not believe that he had put you through the pain of having to say no to him without explanation, all to prevent him from discovering such a painful truth—that you could never be his queen.

Seokjin grabbed your hands with a jerky move and kissed them a thousand times with a thousand pecks.

“I’ll come back. Whenever I can, I promise. I’ll come back to you,” he mumbled against your skin.

You chuckled, cupping his cheeks to draw him towards your lips. “Will you, my little prince? You’ll come back to feed my famished loneliness?” But a sudden clashing sound of the gate bursting open took you out of your reverie. “What was that?”

“I’ll go see,” said Seokjin, standing up, “You stay here.”

You, however, followed him downstairs quietly. No one would enter your castle without you allowing them to, and in order to do so you would protect it tooth and nail, and keep the shabby thread of your existence safe.

“Your Highness!”

The soldiers entered the fortress looking everywhere and you heard a horse whinnying in desperation.

“Lord Yunghae!” exclaimed the prince as he rushed down the last steps, “I’m here, I’m safe. I didn’t think you were all together. Why did it take you so long…?”

The man in the most ostentatious armour knelt the instant he saw Seokjin, and the others followed suit. “Thank God you’re okay, your Highness! We truly thought you were in danger or, worse, wounded by the raiders. It has been a month since the retinue got lost! What in heaven’s good name has kept you here for so long?”

Seokjin turned around and glimpsed you hidden behind a column, sword in hand.

“I stopped to inspect the place and decided to wait for you here.”

As the soldiers continued to talk, perhaps trying to convince him to resume the search with them, you saw the prince wink at you with complicity, almost oblivious to the pleas of his faithful men, and you winked back at him. A feeling of warm familiarity crept into his stomach.

“I haven’t finished with the castle,” he retorted. Seokjin then gestured you to leave, blowing a kiss when it was safe.

“The king is dying of worry, your Highness, and the raiders probably left after taking everything with them.”

You raised your hand to catch the kiss and pressed it against your lips with a mischievous smile, and turned around before having the chance to notice the way he frowned as the oh-so warm and familiar intimacy in his belly broke into pieces of ice all the way to the ground—at that moment, your face became that of an unknown ghost.

The stone staircase led you to your chamber, where you waited for Seokjin, wondering what he’d do with the soldiers. Would he come back to his kingdom?

The thought made you boil.

After a few minutes, you accepted that Seokjin was nowhere to be seen, but you needed him. Utterly. Your body was aching for him, and you were starting to feel famished and deprived of his touch and essence. A second without feeling him inside of you, or pressed against your skin, giving himself up to you, was a century of starvation.

You heard a sound coming from the chapel, and there you went, curious to know what had happened and, above all, what had taken him so long.

“What are you doing here alone?”

He pursed his lips, looking down. “It’s been a month since I left in search of the robbers, so my sister must have been helping my father in court all this time. I’m sure she’s doing much better than me.”

“I’ve told you so many times, Seokjin. You will make a good king. Just as much or even more than your sister. Wise, merciful, just.” You turned to leave the room with a suggestive smile, expecting him to follow you, and continued talking. “Stop doubting yourself.”

A broken cry brought you back to reality. “Who are you?”

Seokjin was dangerously close to your flaming sword. A single tug, no matter how gentle, would dislodge it slightly, and you would disappear forever.

“What do you mean?” you retorted with a fraught smile, “It’s me, Y/N, my love.”

“I am King Shihyuk’s only child.”

The chapel fell silent. You decided to remain quiet, too, as he tried to cut you open with his eyes. Maybe that way Seokjin could see what you were hiding inside, but he waited for you to say something, anything, and your silence only bled him out.

“Anyone who dares to cross this place ought to be careful,” recited the man with trembling lips. Two lonely tears threatened to spill over his cheeks. “For the Forgotten Lands are infested with sirens and succubi,” he continued, “Who take the form of those who are long gone and lure you into their lairs.”

You stared at him.

“All I want is to feed on your spirit.” Your voice was now cold, no grimace as an act of demeaning deception. “But it will slowly kill you—that is the deal I’m offering you. Seokjin, you wouldn’t have stayed here if you didn’t need me. If you pull out that sword, it’s all gone. Forever.”

His grip on the hilt of the flaming sword tightened as you approached him. His fingers were trembling. “You are a monster.”

“I would never dream of hurting you any more than what you beg me to,” you muttered. Smiling when his hand slowly withdrew from the sword, yours moved to his cheeks and wiped away his tears, whispering against his lips. “You can always come back to her, my love, as long as you come back to me.”

“She’s dead.”

“No, she’s not. Not when you are here,” you insisted.

Your kiss tasted like poison to him. Sweet, agonizing lips against his, teeth nipping them as you stuck your tongue in his mouth and your hands moved to his nape, wondering what he would taste like to you upon his discovery.

It was a salty flavour. Like spilled tears, they danced over your tongue. His pain gave you a feeling of euphoria.

You needed more—more of his sorrow, more of his lips, more of his whole being. Pulling up the skirts of your satin dress, you exposed your thighs and pushed Seokjin to the ground by his shoulders until he was sitting down. Then you straddled his lap without breaking the kiss and undid the laces of his trousers.

Seokjin hugged your waist in desperation as your cunt sucked him in, and he knew he was lost. Whatever sanity could have remained in him, had he pulled out that sword, it was all gone now. Part of his mind vanished like dust as you clenched around him, feeling his dick twitch inside of you, and you groaned and grabbed the hair of his neck to pull him closer, to make him go deeper.

“Tell me you are not ecstatic, my prince,” you whispered against his lips, breathing erratically as you moved up and down, “I dare you. Tell me you’re not elated, flying over the top of joy and buried deep inside of me at the same time.”

He cried against the hollow of your neck. “I miss her.”

“I’m here,” you cooed, “You’re touching me. You’re loving me. I’m here.”

This man had been looking for her all his life. He had longed to find her again and kiss her and love her with his whole being. It was a true pity, such a promising love story thrown away—by the time the rebels reached the castle, decades ago, you had already killed her.

How could have you imagined that your spirit would remain locked under the silly sword that you tore away from the girl’s shivering hands? You wouldn’t have killed her if she hadn’t resisted, but perhaps you’d saved her from a less dignified death.

“I’m close,” moaned Seokjin.

You were attached to that place for all eternity, so you may as well use it to your advantage.

A smirk pressed against his wet cheek and you sank your nails in the flesh of his nape. “Already? Did I not train you well enough, my love?”

“Please. I need you, please, let me-let me come.”

His breathing began to become more irregular as your legs pushed harder against him. You were reaching your climax too, his gasps and groans only pushing you towards it. The way his girth rubbed against your walls, pushing his tip against your cervix, making you clench around him—it was delicious.

“You feel so good, my prince,” you moaned, “So big, stretching me out so well… Come kiss me.”

Seokjin obliged immediately. He let you tilt up his chin so he could look up at you, and welcomed your lips with a soft hum, feeling bad for all those people who didn’t know what it was like to be held by someone who loved you and whom you loved back just as much.

“P-please!” he insisted, dragging his breathy pecks down your chin, neck, and chest.

“Just a little longer. Hold on a little longer, my prince. Just a second and you’ll have me coming around your hard, dripping cock. Can you do that for me, love?”

When you saw him nodding to your words, you threw back your head and unbuttoned your bodice, permitting him to suck one of your nipples into his mouth. Barely a few seconds later, you were reaching your climax, clenching around him and propelling you on your heels to keep both of you attached to the ground.

The urge to swallow him whole with your cunt was too mighty.

Something finally pulled within Seokjin’s body, a wave of warm pleasure that made him thrust up, and he spilled his seed into you, sobbing. “I’m coming! Y/N, you’re making me come! Don’t-don’t stop! I love you! I love you so much, Y/N, so much!” he screamed as you rode off his orgasm, barely feeling your legs yourself, “I love you!”

“And I love you too,” you muttered in his ear.

The crown prince of Orleil was rumoured to have a mistress that did not live at court as any other concubine would. The lady was said to have visited his lover’s palace in the past, to have known the king, to have met the highest ranks of the nobility—but she no longer did.

Forgotten by those who wanted to remember her again, Prince Seokjin’s mistress lived in the Forgotten Lands, a most suitable place for a woman like her.

He visited her as often as he could, either on his way to another kingdom or brazenly enough to gather a few of his men and head straight to the half-ruined castle. The soldiers would wait patiently nearby as their prince entered his mistress’ residence, and would not leave until he came out, which could sometimes take longer than a fortnight.

Even if it rained, thundered, or snowed, Seokjin never missed a day when he knew he could be welcomed into her arms. Even after the years passed, after riding on horseback became more difficult and his sight was not that good, he would always go to her. He did so until the very day of his death, after becoming a husband, after becoming a father, after becoming a king.

Seokjin kept his everlasting promise: to come back to her, always—to keep her alive.

Don’t hesitate to like, reblog, and leave some feedback if you liked it! It’s always good and encouraging to know what you think <3

“THE LADY WITH THE FLAMING SWORD” is copyright ²⁰²¹ Lola Bangtan, all rights reserved.

[stellarbisexual]

S2E5

LG DIG DUG LG!

LMAO Hopper’s VM “I’m probably doing something incredible RN” accurate tho

Winona Ryder is so tiny <3

omfg BYELER BLESS US ALL

“And the more he spreads, the more connected to him I feel.” 

omg mike “you’re like a super spy, spying on the shadowmonster.” babe.  babe. <3

(nowkiss)

OH MY FUCKING GOD

SECOND TIME I’M TEARING MY HEADPHONES OFF

MIKE’S HAND ON WILL’S HAND

MIKE’S HAND ON WILL’S HAND

I REPEAT

MIKE’S HAND. ON. WILL’S. HAND.

FAREWELL MY FRIENDS. FAREWELL.

Byeler as F U C K Y’ALL

SKIP INTRO BUTTON YOU MEAN NOTHING TO ME GTFO

jancy at that ho-tel mo-tel holiday innnnnnnnnn

LMAO that lady at the front desk: perfectly cast. 

jfc jonathan still soooooo into nancy. HE CALLED HER NANCE <3

omfg matching scars. THEY ARE SO. FLIPPING. CUTE. 

“only a month” hahahaha jonathan you are the KING of saying the WRONG SHIT

aoihdsfonasdfaklfmkadfmdalf MIKE IS ASLEEP ON WILL’S FLOOR my protective bisexual son

omg HOPPER AS DAMSEL IN DISTRESS into itttt

YES MY PRAYERS HAVE BEEN ANSWERED, WE ARE AT LUCAS’ HOUSE BLESS

OMFG LUCAS ASKING HIS DAD FOR GIRL ADVICE BYE

“Even when she’s wrong?” CLASSIC FUCKING LUCAS THO

“To hang out with Dustin” worst liar ever

Seriously Lucas’ little sister is the breakout character of this season

Guys I hella ship Lucas/Max already

o fuck poor Dustin gonna have to cover up that cat’s death

uGH POOR DUSTIN’S MAMA LIKEEEE <3

dustin and his mom are like the comedic duo of the century “iLY “ILY” “I LOVE YOU” *mwah*

wow gaten matarazzo has BEAUTIFUL eyes!

“I’M SORRY... YOU ATE MY CAT.” LMFAO

omg eleven going to meet her mama!

well that’s one way to get in.

ELEVEN IS LIKE ALREADY SO PROTECTIVE OF HER MOM, I’M SLAIN

haha nancy pokin’ holes in that dude’s “boxes of pepe” map

omg lucas pulling all sorts of shit for max, my heart

“a safe place to what? be creepy?” bless you, max.

max you’re not gonna be so blase about lucas putting his trust in you after he tells you everything.

will is the tiniest bean <3

o shit bob’s here and he gon use his nerd powers to solve the mystery

“that’s the objective, find the x.” mike you effing nerd.

um why did it take them so long to figure out the drawings are a map of hawkins tho. i mean that’s the most logical thing, right?

(meanwhile i’m still highkey upset about dustin’s cat)

again with the vaginal imagery lol

ooh i have a feeling this is the ep where dustin brings steeb into the mix

lolllll erikaaaaaa #best

“she won’t get any better, will she?” :( :( :(

oh GOD el seeing her baby crib W H Y YOU DO DIS SHOW

MAYBE WILL CAN BRING EL’S MAMA OUT OF THE UPSIDE DOWN

HO SHIT THEY JUST GAVE MAD POLTERGEIST PROPS THERE WITH THE TV BLESS

omg mike’s parents are useless

“son of a bitch you’re really no help at all, you know that?” lmfaooooooo my thoughts exactly, dustin

AWW STEEB WITH HIS FLOWERS <33333333333

YAS THE NAILBAT SCENE IS COMING

I love that Steeb is like automatically on board too

omg save hopper guys pls i’m FULL OF ANXIETY

hahahahahahahah lucas been telling this story the whole time

LOLLLLLLLL getting all meta with max’s criticism of the story of what happened

EEP MAX HELD LUCAS’ HAND BWEEEE

if billy hurts lucas, i will seriously cut a bitch. like not even kidding.

(hahaha just realized the max/lucas ship name can be mucas, as in mucous hahaha)

“stop talking” lmao eleven

papa stealing baby eleven like it’s his job

ELEVEN’S AUNT HELPED THE BAD MEN WTF? whoaaaa eleven’s mama shooting cops like it ain’t no thing

BB ELEVEN <3

more gay imagery thx for the rainbowwwwww

omfg eleven’s poor fucking mother, i can’t. she’s just reliving this horrible trauma for the rest of her fucking life? a w f u l

“IN MY NOW MEMORIES” <3 my gay son

“super spy” <3 supportive bisexual bf mike wheeler

yas beat those vines joyce, also winona’s tiny feet <3

“are we in will’s map?” lmao YES JFC get on board samwise

my sexuality is joyce saving hopper 

“hey bob” “hey jim” lmfao

WTF WILL NOOOOOOO

[negans-network]

Cinderella Part 2

Summary: For @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash and her 2nd Negan Writing Challenge, this is for the foot fetish prompt introducing OFC Janine, who is both plus-sized and nonwhite.

Word Count:  6259

Warnings: Foul Language, Sexual Imagery and Language, Outright smut. Fellatio. Female masturbation. Vaginal sex. Of course I’m gonna have feet stuff in here. Also like surprisingly soft Negan too.

Author: @genevievedarcygranger 

Author’s Note: Lol would you believe me if I told you that I wrote this for like 6 hours straight at like 4 in the morning man. 

Back in his bedroom, Negan slammed the door closed behind them before he gently placed Lucille down in her designated spot. Janine knew it was Lucille’s spot because the chair she was placed in had nicks in the cushion from her barbwire. Glancing back at Negan, Janine saw that he had already stripped off his black leather jacket and had tossed it on the couch. Never one to be complacent during sex, Janine stepped forward, catching his hands. “Let me, undress you,” She kissed his chin because that is how high she could reach on her toes, and his facial hair scratched her lips pleasantly. “That’s half the fun of sex, after all.”

Immediately, Negan stilled his movements, allowing her to do as she wanted. “Damn, you’re gonna make the most of this, aren’t cha?” Janine didn’t answer as she slipped her hands under his white shirt, rolling it up his torso to reveal his dark happy trail bit by bit. “You know this isn’t a job interview or even a damn promotion, even if I am your fucking boss.” He paused as he took the shirt the rest of the way off and tossed it beside his jacket. Negan had forgone wearing his red scarf today. “Besides, if it was, you already got the fucking job.”

Janine ignored him as she ran her hands up and down his torso appreciatively. “Just let me enjoy this,” she gently scratched her nails down his arms, tracing her eyes over every bit of his bare flesh. He had a lot of tattoos: a skull on one pectoral muscles, a cross on his bicep, a bird and banner on the other bicep, an old-fashioned pistol on the inside of one forearm, and the word Bisou on the outside of his forearm. She paused at that, mentally translating the word in her mind: Kiss. Her BA required two years in a foreign language, and so did high school. Janine still remembered French despite everything.

Doing as the tattoo declared, she leaned forward and pressed kisses on every visible tattoo. When she got to the tattoo on his pec, she lingered, glancing up at him shyly before she dragged her mouth to one of his nipples and took that in her mouth. Hooded-eyes watched her every move and when she did that Negan’s head fell back a moan. “Damn it, Janine,” he cursed, clearly out of pleasure.

With impish delight, she pulled back, taking his hands in her own again. She giggled, clearly enjoying herself. Janine had been wanting to do this for so very long, and now her fantasy was coming true. “Let me make you feel good, Negan,” she sighed to him.

Grasping his left hand firmly in her own, she examined the bandage wrapped around his wrist curiously before looking up at him in question. “Just a wrap to prevent me from injuring my wrist,” Negan explained, gesturing with his eyes towards Lucille. Janine’s mouth formed a silent ‘o’ before she slowly started to unwrap it.

That finished, her hands moved to his belt, which she undid in a quick, efficient, business-like manner. It slid from his pants with a satisfying hiss, and jingled as she tossed it away carelessly. Negan teased her, “What, you didn’t want me to fucking use that belt on you, Janine?”

Shaking her head at him, Janine bit her lip, her fingers playing with the button of his pants. Internally, she was debating with herself and Negan could see when she came to a decision when she got this determined look on his face. Then she surprised him by dropping to her knees suddenly. “What the fuck are you –!”

She shushed him as she bent over, prostrating herself on the floor as though she were bowing. Once again, she looked up at him, her dark eyes glinting mischievously. Then Negan watched in rapt attention as her pink tongue flicked out her mouth and licked up his boots starting from the toe. Repeating the process on the other boot made Negan’s cock as hard as a rock in his pants and he hadn’t even seen her tits yet. Janine kissed his boots, hands coming up to cradle one foot, and she ever so gently slid them off of his feet with such reverence. Carefully, Negan balanced himself as he allowed her to do this, very curious in what she was doing. Once his feet were free, Negan unthinkingly wiggled his toes, digging them into the floor. In response, Janine sat back on her heels, eyeing his feet, and Negan swore that she looked damn pleased with herself.

When she looked back up at him, she caught him off-guard and Negan’s spine bowed backwards as he raised an eyebrow at her in question. Still, Janine didn’t say anything, her hands reaching up to finally unbutton and unzip his pants. In one fluid movement, she pulled both his pants and his boxers down, and Negan hopped out of them quickly, standing before her stark-naked. He was a proud man, so he wasn’t ashamed when his dick sprung to attention, dangling in front of her face.

It didn’t bother Janine either, because she wrapped her hands around its base and immediately stuck it in her mouth, hollowing her cheeks as she bobbed up and down, taking him deep all the way. Immediately, Negan’s hands came up and wrapped in the end of her hair, directly her to move how he liked. Subsequently, he was dissolving into groans, too. This was all so unexpected; he’d thought that bringing her back here would mean he’d do all the work exploring her body, but he couldn’t be farther from the case – or happier for that matter.

Way too quickly for Negan’s liking, he knew he was getting close. “Oh, fuck! Janine,” he managed through his gritted teeth, “if you keep fucking going I won’t be able to fucking stop – ahhh!” Before he could even finish his sentence, Janine had deepthroated him and hummed, her hands working his balls. He came on the spot and she took him all in, swallowing it down. She was looking at him while she did it, too, which prolonged his orgasm by another weak spurt. After that he could barely stand, and stumbled against his bed as he recovered, breathing heavily. “God damn, Janine.”

From the floor, Janine wiped the back of her hand across her mouth and licked it clean. There was a smug look on her face that Negan was dying to fuck off, but he needed a bit to recover. Slowly, he eased himself backwards until he was sitting on the bed, staring at her hard and muttering curses under his breath. Crawling towards him with a devilish smile that could rival his own, Janine caught one of his feet in her hand and dragged her thumb up the arch of his foot. Crossing her legs underneath her, she started massaging his feet without another word, smiling while she did it.

Still caught up in the pleasant afterglow of his orgasm, Negan didn’t pull away, too tired to even do that. “You know if I wanted a massage, I could’ve asked Frankie to come back with me.” He informed her in a low sort of voice.

“But you didn’t.” She sounded way too chipper. “You asked me. You proposed to me, too, and I’m still thinking about my answer.”

“Well, shit, then. I just you want you to know I normally last for longer than that, but damn if you didn’t catch me by surprise with that freaky boot-licking shit.” Negan’s head dropped backward and his eyes closed when Janine rubbed a particularly good spot. He groaned, and then cracked open his eyes when he looked back down at her. “Hell, you can still kneel for me and lick my boots and all that shit as my wife, Janine. All you have to do is say fucking yes.”

Humming noncommittally, Janine focused on his feet, refusing to make eye-contact with him. She was right. He had very pretty feet, long and pleasing the eye. His toes were well formed with the big toe on each foot having a bit of hair. Black hair dusted the top of his feet, too, and grew thicker on his legs. There was a wild nest of black hair on his groin that crawled up his stomach and spread over his chest. It swirled temptingly around his nipples, which is why she couldn’t help but take a taste of them earlier. The hair on his arms were a little sparser, but she liked everything she saw. Negan was not overly hairy, but just enough that she deemed it manly.

The black tattoos were very interesting, and she was dying to know why he got them, but that could come later if she said yes. Of course, his cock was huge – he had the ego to match – and he was cut and well-proportioned, with this vein she had particularly enjoyed tonguing that traced from his sack to the bulbous head on the underside of his cock. Yes, he was a very pretty man, and she was having trouble deciding if she wanted to bounce on his cock or sit on her strong jawline instead. His large nose was calling her name.

Despite all his attractive features, though, Janine’s eyes kept getting drawn back to his feet. There were just pretty, so pretty. The bottom of his feet were a little rough, but he didn’t have corns or anything gross like that. The top of his feet were soft, the softest skin she’d felt on him with the exception of the silkiness of his cock. With more vigor but the same gentle touch, she rubbed him harder, enjoying massaging him just as much as he was enjoying receiving the massage.

Looking up at him, Janine could see his eyes rolling with pleasure underneath his eyelids, his mouth dropped open wide in a face similar to the one he made when he came. His come was salty, but delicious otherwise. It was getting harder and harder to come up with reasons why she should say no. “Am I a better masseuse than Frankie?”

 “Fuck yes,” Negan immediately answered without a second thought. “That’s not even a damn question.” He opened his eyes again – he was having trouble keeping them open due to the combined effect of an orgasm and the massage making him sleepy. “Frankie’s way too damn rough. She wanted to stand on my spine once, but I said fucking no to that stupid shit.”

 “Well, I’m not even going to ask to do that,” Janine replied easily. It was easy to talk to him. “You’d snap in half underneath my weight.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Negan told her tiredly, “I want you to ride my dick later, and I doubt you’ll snap my dick in half.”

“I just might.”

“No, you fucking won’t, Janine.”

 Lapsing into silence, Janine switched to the other foot. At this rate, he may fall asleep before he ever even gets his dick inside her. Part of Janine was regretful for that, but that doesn’t mean there won’t be other opportunities. She was still considering herself lucky to have been able to do all of this with his so far.

Before the end of the world, Janine didn’t put much thought into how she would be proposed to, but now that she has, she didn’t consider it to be too bad. It wasn’t romantic by any means, but just seeing the looks on both Frankie’s and Tanya’s face made it well worth it. Besides, Janine enjoyed the surprise of it. She had always loved surprises.

The more she thought about it, too, the more Janine was thinking about saying yes. Should she tease Negan about it some more, though? Maybe he would enjoy the chase. But Janine would probably enjoy not working for points anymore even more. Even if she had to share Negan with Frankie and Tanya still, she could get used to it if it meant she could wear dresses and pretty underwear again and have regular showers. Speaking of which… “Negan?”

 “Hm?” Negan didn’t even bother to open his eyes now. He had flopped completely backwards on his bed, flat on his back. Janine couldn’t even see his face anymore, though she could see that his dick was making a valiant effort to rise again. She licked her lips. Maybe this night could be fulfilling to her, too, in more ways than one.

“Before we do anything further, I’d like to take a shower.” At that he lifted his head, and Janine quickly continued, “I would like to be fresh and stuff, you know, so it can be more pleasant for you.”

 “Shit, I don’t mind licking the sweat from your skin, Janine. I like my dirty girls to be filthy as fuck.” His head lolled to the side, and he just barely managed to open his eyes. “But I wouldn’t be fucking opposed for a damn bath myself.”

“Bath?” She repeated a little too eagerly, her ears disbelieving.

“Hell yeah, bath,” Negan answered her, “I’m too fucking tired to try and stand up and fuck you against the shower wall.” He held up a finger in warning. “And before you say shit, just know that usually I can pick anyone up and fuck them against the wall, but you caught me on a bad day.” Rubbing his eyes, he continued with a slight yawn, “Damn, you got me like putty in your hands.”

Smiling at his words, Janine released his feet with one last fond pet of his toes. Climbing to her own feet, Janine looked toward his bathroom, shifting excitedly back and forth. She had cleaned his bathroom many times before, and knew he had a bathtub. Baths were considered a luxury, though, so she had just been expecting that he would let her get a quick five-minute shower. But now she was being allowed to relax in a hot bath with Negan of all people. Janine was going to make it a bubble bath. “Well, come on, then, sleepy-head. Let’s get you all cleaned up before you climb back into bed, baby.” She was only half-way teasing him. Janine was a very doting person.

 “Alright, alright,” Negan conceded to her urging. “Help me up, Janine.” Holding out his hands to her, she caught him and pulled. Lazily, he rolled to his feet, his movements graceful, even when he was completely nude. He allowed himself to be dragged to the bathroom by Janine where he leaned against the doorframe, watching her set everything up.

Since she cleaned his rooms, she knew where everything was so she started adding soap to the tub as it filled with warm water. The heat was palpable as it began to steam, fogging up the mirror. Testing the temperature with her hand, Janine was satisfied, deeming it not too hot that it scalded or too cold to be uncomfortable. Flicking her hand dry, she glanced back over her shoulder at Negan, his eyes squinty with amusement. “Go ahead, get in, Negan.” She gestured for him to go first. “I’ll follow you in after.”

The man didn’t have to be told twice as he strode across the bathroom to the tub. He paused before he climbed in, though, leaning close towards Janine. Again, he kissed her by surprise – tongue and all despite the fact that earlier she had her mouth around her dick. The kiss was languid, much like his mood, and Janine enjoyed it just as much as their first kiss. Too soon, he pulled away with a sleepy sort of smile and then gingerly climbed in the tub.

It took some guessing on her part to make sure she added enough water that it wouldn’t spill over the sides of the tub with them both in it, but Janine was sure that she got it right. The bathtub was big enough for two to fit easily, though it would be a tight fit considering Negan’s long limbs and Janine’s larger size. They could make it work, though. Once Negan was seated, sprawled out and relaxing, completely covered by the soap bubbles that rose on the waterline to about his nipples in height, Janine started to undress.

First, she kicked off her shoes, and they flew off, landing somewhere inside his bedroom. There was a thump as one of them hit the back of the couch pretty hard, and Janine winced. Negan didn’t say anything, though, so she figured it was fine. Looking at him, Janine paused, considering. Negan’s eyes were open, watching her closely with his head resting against the side of the tub. He was going to see her naked, now, and if she still wanted to be a wife, she had to make this sexy for him.

Grabbing the bottom of her shirt, she turned her back to him before she pulled it off and tossed it on the bathroom sink. Glancing over her shoulder at him, she saw that a smile was curling his lips. Pleased with herself, she unbuttoned her pants and then pushed them down over her hips, bending over as she pushed them all the way off her legs before she stepped out of them daintily. She made sure to push her ass out far and wiggle it at him a bit, very grateful that she wore her best pair of panties today. Standing up straight again, she reached around and unhooked her bra, also grateful that this was her best one. With her back still turned toward him, she pulled it off and tossed it away before pulling her hair in front of her. Her hair was long enough that she could maintain her decency with it, not even a nipple showing.

“Are you ever gonna let me fucking see you?” Negan asked, not mad or impatient, but clearly stating his intentions.

Carefully looking at him over her shoulder again, Janine bit her lip to hold back her laughter. He looked as regal as a king, confidently splayed out like that. But the bubbles were just too adorable on him, too. “Of course, you’re gonna get to see me, Negan, baby. Patience is a virtue.”

He didn’t say anything, clearly waiting for her to continue. Gathering all of her courage, Janine hooked her fingers around the waistband of her panties and ever so slowly dragged them down, bending over at the waist and pushed out her ass again for him. In her opinion, her ass was her best feature, after all. Once she pulled them off, Janine spread her legs a bit, peeking out from behind her calf to gage Negan’s reaction.

His gaze was steady, hot, and heavy on her revealed sex, already dripping in need for him. Imperiously, he lifted a hand and crooked two fingers at her in a come-hither motion. “Get your fine ass in this tub now, Janine. That’s an order.”

Happy with his reaction, she straightened back up. “Yes, sir.” After all, she as good at following orders. She quickly turned around, not pausing to give him time to look at her, and she climbed into the tub, the movements not as graceful as his by any means nor as sexy as she would have liked. None of that mattered though as soon as she sunk into the bubble-filled and warm wet, her muscles relaxing in relief. It had been way too long since her last soak in the tub.

There was some awkward maneuvering as they got themselves situated comfortably. Luckily, Janine had filled the tub to the right height and now with both of their combined weight the water rose nearly up to Negan’s chin, the bubbles clinging to his beard and almost making her jealous that she couldn’t do the same. In the end, it ended up with Janine’s legs spread and her heels hooked around the edge of the tub. Negan’s legs were spread, too, his feet in a similar position on either side of her head much like hers were. Janine could feel his balls resting gently against her in the water. There were so many bubbles that everything below the water was kept hidden. Janine liked the added element of mystery.

“Fuck, this is nice,” Negan exclaimed, sighing with happiness.

From across the tub where Janine was playing with the bubbles, she hummed her agreement. “I bet you get to do this all the time, huh?”

“No, actually, this is the first time I’ve had a fucking bubble bath in this tub. And you fucking talked me into it. Shit.”

“Does that mean you’ve had bubble baths before?” Janine teased.

He scoffed at her, “Yeah, when I was fucking three.”

“See, bubble baths aren’t so bad now. They’re relaxing.” Janine started scooping the foam on her chest, piling them on her breasts and up to her chin in a Santa beard style.

“Almost as fucking relaxing as that damn foot massage you gave me,” Negan countered, eyes closed. Since he could hardly admire her naked form when it was hidden underneath the bubbles, he didn’t bother trying to fight his eyes from closing anymore.

Janine didn’t say anything, having too much with what she was doing. His feet on either side of her were all too tempting, and she was happy just watching him curl his toes in the air in satisfaction. Oh yes, she was definitely going to accept his marriage proposal now, especially if that meant there could be repeats of this bubble bath experience.

From the other side of the tub, Negan started snoring having finally dropped off into the land of nod. Janine was deeply shocked, not believing it, but as she watched she could tell that he was in a deep sleep. Both she – and before her Michaela – must have worn him out pretty well. On top of that, she was sure he had a long and busy day as well. It’s not easy running not only the Sanctuary, but multiple other communities as well. It takes a lot of hard work. So, Janine allowed him to rest, enjoying just relaxing with him in the bath.

In the meantime, she had ducked her head under the water, washing her hair. Luxuriously, she enjoyed shaving her legs and armpits, too, getting her skin silky smooth for Negan. Then she started soaping herself up, too.

With Negan sitting across from her in the tub, snoring through his nose, Janine slipped her hand between her legs, lazily dragging her fingers up and down her seam. Playing with herself with her eyes locked on his beautiful face, she circled her clit, teasing herself before she finally gave in and pushed two fingers inside of herself, curling them in an easy pace. Her toes mimicked the movement, and she had to bite her lip to prevent herself from moaning out loud. Her other hand attended to her nipples, switching between them as she alternating between twisting and flicking.

At one point, she pulled a breast up to her mouth, latching on to her own nipple as she imagined it was Negan’s sinful lips and tongue instead. Janine was also imagining that it was his hand between her legs, too, his thick cock rather than her fingers buried in her pussy. Wishing that his mouth was opened in pleasure rather than in sleep, Janine added a third finger, stretching herself a bit. She sped up a little, too, pushing deeper until she finally reached that special spot; and then within seconds she was spasming around her fingers, whining through her orgasm. Still, Negan didn’t awake, none the wiser.

As she recovered, she starting thinking again. When she had first slipped her hand down beneath the water, her fingertips had brushed over his balls that were resting against her. Negan had twitched, but otherwise slept peacefully. Briefly, she wondered if he would enjoy being woken up with his cock in her mouth again, but she decided that that was too much an invasion of his privacy. Besides, she felt dirty enough having masturbated in the same bathtub as him while he was sleeping right there.

Eventually, though, as the water rapidly cooled and became tepid, Janine knew she would have to wake him. Gently, she grabbed one of his feet in each of her hands and started massaging him again, figuring that that would be a pleasant way for him to wake up. But he slept through that. “Negan!” She whispered to him. Then in a normal speaking voice she tried again, “Negan!” He was out like a light. Left with little else to do, Janine released one of his feet and splashed water at him. “Negan!”

That finally got his attention, and he jerked awake with a start. “Damn, Janine, what is it? I was just resting my fucking eyes.” He shook his head, flicking water droplets everywhere.

“I can’t have you drowning in the tub with me Negan. They’ll kill me,” Janine half-joked with him.

The joke got a chuckle out of him. When Negan looked at her again, he immediately dissolved into a riotous fit of laughter, fully awake after his powernap.

“What?” Janine asked him, confused at his behavior. “What is it?”

“I was asleep for so fucking long,” Negan guffawed at her, “that you grew a fucking Santa beard.” Now remembering it, Janine sluiced it off, the bubbles dissolving in the water. Still, she was smiling, happy to have made him laugh in some way.

Negan watched her, his eyes wide open now, and he broke out into a larger smile, though it seemed a little sinister. Before Janine could ask what it was again, Negan commented, “My, now that the bubbles have gone, I get to see those fantastic fucking tits you’ve been hiding from me. And you have a bite mark on one of your nipples.” He jerked his chin at her, “Care to fucking explain that? You have a little dipshit boyfriend or girlfriend I don’t fucking know about.”

Flushing with embarrassment, Janine thought fast about what excuse she could give him. Belatedly, her hands came up to cover herself, but she knew it was already too late. Damn, she should have been more careful. Negan just watched though as the blush from her cheeks spread down her chest. He raised an eyebrow at her, refusing to let this go. “I’m not seeing anyone, Negan,” Janine began haltingly.

“Oh, so it was a quick fuck situation? Well, if you’re going to be my fucking wife you can’t fuck anyone else but me. Deal with those rules and we’ll be cool. If not, beat it, and I rescind my marriage proposal,” Negan explained to Janine.

“I understand, but I promise you. I really haven’t been seeing anyone. I didn’t even have any boyfriends in college, just a hook up here and there occasionally.” Reluctantly, she admitted to him, “It’s been a while, though, since I’ve last had sex.

“Then who the fuck gave you that?” Negan was stubborn. “It’s like I told Tanya, I don’t like liars.”

Biting her lip, Janine withheld her answer for a moment before she finally gave in. “I did.”

There was silence, and then Negan practically exploded with manic glee and excitement. “No fucking shit, you can suck your own tit? That’s pretty fucking amazing, Janine. Fucking show me. That’s hot as shit.” Regretting her decision, Janine still did as he commanded except she used the other breast this time, not wanting to hurt her nipple from where she bit it. Instantly, Negan cheered. “Hot damn, that’s some good shit. But fucking tell me, Janine. Why did you do that when I’m right here? Climb the fuck on my lap, darling, let me do that for you.”

Releasing her breast, Janine gave Negan a hard stare. “Wait.”

“Wait for what? My dick is so hard right now, Janine. Go ahead and take a look.” He gestured to his fully erect cock, clearly visible under the water. The sight of it had Janine gushing again. Like him she was ready for round two despite already climaxing once tonight. “I promise you I’ll last more than fifteen minutes.”

Swallowing, Janine looked back up at him. “I need a moment.”

“Fucking fine, then, but I’m telling you that you being on top is not gonna snap my dick in half. I’m strong. I can handle it.” Negan said, not actually angry. “But you know, this just makes me think that you fucking playing with herself while I was asleep, am I right? Fuck, how long was I out?”

Not bothering to confirm or deny Negan’s suspicions, Janine shifted a bit. She couldn’t believe that she was about to sleep with Negan. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Negan curl his toes in the air. Reaching out, she gently grabbed his foot and eased it down to her, bringing it close to her face. Negan didn’t comment or resist, his dark eyes watching her curiously. She kissed his foot, and he sucked in a breath. Ever so slowly, Janine kissed her way up his foot until she reached his toes, and she and Negan made eye contact as she wrapped her lips around his big toe. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked it just like she did his dick, and his dick throbbed in remembrance. “Fuck,” he quietly gasped, not believing that he was into this kind of freaky-deaky kinky shit.

With a pop, she released his toe from her mouth with a smile. “Okay, I’m ready now.” That seemed to be all the confidence boost that she needed before Janine slowly started to climb on top of him, being careful not to slosh water anywhere or hurt him in anyway.

In a daze, Negan let her get comfortable. Janine set his head spinning every which way. He never knew what to expect her. There were no regrets in proposing to her as she brought so many new qualities that his other wives lacked. She was good for conversation, had amazing tits, and was pretty damn kinky. Also, she didn’t mind spoiling him or relaxing with him. He didn’t have to have a firm hand or be dominant with her. Yes, he was enjoying how unique and different she was very much.

Once Janine had comfortably settled herself with her legs squeezed on either side of his hips against the sides of her tub, she rubbed herself up and down his length. The water element made things a lot more exciting, and as she moved her breasts bobbed up and down in the water. The soap bubbles were nearly all gone now. Everything below the water was clearly visible to the both of them.

Splaying his hands across her belly, Negan finally took in the sight of her. Her skin was so brown, though not exactly smooth. She had scars here and there, stretchmarks in the usual places like her hips, the sides of her breasts, her stomach. He managed to spot one brown birthmark on her side, and curiously ran his thumb over it. Of course, her tits were fantastic and huge, both more than a handful each. Testing that theory, he cupped both and found he was right. Her nipples were brown, too, just a bit darker than she was. There was a mole on the underside of one breast, and he gently traced his thumb over that, too. Janine was pleasantly plump, her thighs thick, rolls on her side, just all around chubby. But Negan appreciated the softness as she pressed against him, working them both up into a frenzy as she rubbed her clit up and down the length of his dick.

Leaning back, Negan caught her mouth in their third kiss, tangling his tongue with hers while his hands played her nipples. Pulling back, he murmured to her, “Fucking ride me, Janine, you’re fucking beautiful.”

Breathless from the kiss, Janine nodded and held him in place as she sunk down on him. He slid all the way into place, the head of his cock just nudging against her cervix once she was fully seated. They both moaned in unison at the feeling, and Janine gripped his shoulders tight as she began to lift herself up and down. Negan pulled her closer, desperate to taste her tits, and he caught a nipple in his mouth, sucking hard. He started to move along with her, pushing up inside her tightness harder and harder with every thrust. Every time she slammed down on him, his balls smacked against her ass, the water cushioning the blow. Water was sloshing everywhere, rippling around their bodies, their movements making waves.

Janine was a moaning mess, head tilted back and eyes closed in pleasure as she moved how she wanted to. She adjusted her position once, and Negan went from brushing against her g-spot to full on hitting it directly with the blunt head of his cock. Her moans became louder and she moved faster in her eagerness to reach her peak.

Negan was right there with her, adoring her tits far too much. Looking up at her, he took immense pride in seeing her pretty face crumple in pleasure, in Janine moaning his name in a litany like it was the only word she knew. The only reason he wasn’t moaning just like her was because he had a mouthful of tit and he enjoyed the unique flavor of Janine’s skin. Reaching down between their bodies, Negan’s thumb found her clitoris, and her tapped it with the pad of his thumb, barely brushing it. Janine’s rhythm faltered, and around the nipple he had in his mouth, Negan smiled and then ruthlessly mashed his thumb down on her clit, rubbing hard. Janine immediately climaxed around him, still moving up and down as she worked herself through her own orgasm, prolonging it. Negan’s eyes squeezed shut as he savored the feeling, quickening his pace so he could finish, too. 

Again, though, Janine surprised him as she clumsily clambered off of his dick, her hand replacing her pussy. She worked him hard, twisting her wrist, her hand warm and wet, only lacking the velvet softness of a pussy as she jerked him off. Then Janine slipped under the water, her mouth replacing her hand, and she dragged her teeth along the side of his dick as she pushed him all the way in her mouth, nose bumping against his pubic bone and balls bobbing up on her chin.

He came without warning, not even able to tap her head, but Janine didn’t need the warning as she sucked his come down again for the second time that night. Below the water, she couldn’t hear the harshness in Negan’s voice as he babbled, “Holy fuckity fucking shit fuck! Janine! Janine! Janine! God damn, fucking fuck!”

When she needed air, she came up again, gasping for it. Negan caught ahold of her by the back of her neck and pulled her to him for their fourth kiss. He kept surprising her with sweet kisses just as much as she surprised with the freaky, kinky shit as she sucked on various parts of his anatomy. She had to break their kiss off early, still in need of air as she gasped for oxygen.

Once she recovered her breath, Janine crawled back on his lap again, his dick limp beneath her, but she was careful not to crush it. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she ran her fingers through his hair before absentmindedly reaching for the soap, already ready to wash his hair for him. “Oh, God, I made a mess,” she commented as she peeked over the side of the tub. She had sloshed water on the floor everywhere, and she was already thinking of how to clean it up as she buried her fingers in his hair, avoiding getting too close to his eyes.

“Don’t fucking worry about the mess, you’re not the maid anymore. Someone else can handle it.” Relaxing at her touch, Negan allowed her to wash his hair, doubtlessly enjoying the pampering and the attention. Usually it was his wives who demanded this kind of attention from him, so it was nice to have the roles reversed for once. Negan was close to following asleep again. He had his arms slung across her hips, wrapped around her waist with his hands splayed possessively over her back. His fingertips rubbed small circled into her flesh, the touch light as a feather, and he rubbed his fingers over her stretchmarks, their smoothness curious to him, but pleasant as well.

Taking her time, Janine massaged her fingertips into his scalp before rinsing him off. She cupped her palms in the water, dribbling it over his face, and his eyes had fallen shut in complete satisfaction and relaxation. Janine enjoyed watching his serene face, and rubbed her palms over his stubble repetitively like one who would pet a cat. The texture was pleasant, simultaneously scratching and tickling her. His facial hair fascinated Janine just as much as her stretchmarks did him.  

When she was done, she stopped, examining his face. He opened his eyes, looking up at her enraptured and beguiling. “Fuck, Janine, please fucking marry me,” Negan practically begged.

A slow and easy smile spread across Janine’s face. “Yes, of course I’ll marry you, Negan, baby.” Then for the first time that night, Janine kissed Negan first in their fifth kiss together.

[zeldafanartyasilly]

Happy vaginal expulsion day!!!

Thank you! Despite the graphic imagery, I am very glad it happened! Lol

[stellarbisexual]

S2E2

“Goodbye Mike” oh dear, I feel some BMW angst coming

ok nvm we’re just finding out what happened to my girl eleven, we’re good

hmm why is supernatural horror imagery always so vaginal hmm

f me up with them mileven feels !!

SKIP INTRO? AGAIN? You clearly don’t know me yet, Season 2. I watch intros til the cows come home. (Did you see me and the Sopranos?)

Awwwwww poor Eleven just wants to like be a kid and be out in the wold with BMW, LET HER LIVE

Haha Daddy Hopper is Over It (TM)

“Promise?” *streaming tears emoji*

o shit my gay son will doesn’t want to be overprotected so now he’s lying and shit

ok i love dustin’s mama

AND LUCAS’ LITTLE SISTER AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

hahahaha classic BMW in that pic

holy shit these nerds singing the theme song

“I specifically didn’t agree to Winston” haahahahaha ACCURATE

Oh noes. these poor kids. 

Aww, Joyce/Hopper, such OTP.

Damn that Barb PTSD creepin’ up on Nancy, hoo boy

“Is that why you’re wearing proton packs?” lmfao i love max already

LOL I love Lucas so much.

Oh no, Eleven is watching TV. Ooh catch that Susan Lucci shit. That’s the good shit.

Oof, my bb girl had to eat squirrels and shit? <3

Da fuq is happening wit deez pumpkins doe

Pumpkin Conspiracy: great band name

JFC poor Max... :(

“At least he doesn’t treat me different.” My poor gay son

Yas Jonathan go to the dumb party

Snap this high school party LIT son

Wait Max’s bro is named Billy and bears a striking resemblance to a young Rob Lowe? I think they based him on Billy in St. Elmo’s Fire and I AM ABOUT IT (even tho he a dick)

Sean Astin’s night with Joyce lit too tho (not)

Ugh poor Joyce she’s just trying to be a good mama

“If I get another Three Musketeers, I’m going to kill myself” SAME

O H N O ELEVEN IS GOING TO BE S O U P S E T

These Eleven flashbacks are giving me life friends

omfg Dustin and Lucas are such fuckin nerds <3

ho shit BYELER MOMENT #3

omg MY POOR GAY SON

(also could we be coding mike as more bisexual with both EL and WILL yelling for him in the upside down liiiiiiiiiike)

“I’M GONNA GET YOU HOME OK?” ARE YOU ACTUALLY EFFING IDDING ME i’m screaming this is gonna spawn ALL THE BYELER FIC friends

haha shoutout to raggedy anne and andy making out at the HS party

I feel like this drunken nancy monologue is going to spawn hella memes

POOR STEEB OMFG w h y

BYELER FUCK ME UPPPPPPPPPP (ps finn is fucking huge on that couch ahahaha)

“Well if we’re going crazy, we’ll both go crazy together, right?”

I JUST TORE OFF MY HEADPHONES WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

BRB REWINDING THE SHIT OUT OF THAT SHIT

No offense but Mike Wheeler is bisexual as HALE jot that down

“Yeah, crazy together.” NOWKISS

Oh man, Jonathan taking drunk Nancy home, this is some striaght up fic shit

Hm whatchu doin with that blindfold El?

MILEVENNNNNNN so much of it

NOOOOO MY FEELINGS

Aaaah only episode two and my bisexual heart is so pleased and in such A G O N Y