#and do please enjoy my little fuckery

[swordoffrivolousthings]

The gods in PJO are not godly enough, in my opinion

I will start this rant by saying that this is only one of my problems with the PJO series. I understand why Riordan has humanized them, I know this is a middle school age book series. But I am older and I want to make them freaky and strange and kind of eldritch. With little to no explanation as for my choices.

ZEUS. He is the Olympian king of the gods, god of the sky, weather, law and order, destiny and fate and kingship. He is the law, as any king is. Every word he says is godly law, every little order will be followed. He is the king. So, he is stone-faced, made of marble, with no expression other than thoughtfulness and severeness (even if he sometimes isn't). His eyes are pure lightning, the hurricanes that ravage the world and the gentlest of summer rains. Most days, when he speaks of future events, they tend to happen that way, if not overruled by a higher power. His very presence is the ozone layer being brought down, heavy, tiring mortals and demigods out quickly. He treads lightly, with steps like gentle patters of rain, but his every breath is thunder.

HERA. The goddess of marriage, women, the sky and the stars of heaven, and the Olympian queen of the gods. Marriage, despite her own being something less than aspiring, is sacred. Couples that marry are under her protection, she still blesses their marriages. She sky shifts with her emotions, getting darker and night starting to fall. Her himation worn over her head, the only garment visible, reflecting the sky above. Her eyes, two bright stars, seeing something more than human perception can begin to understand.

POSEIDON. Olympian god of the sea, earthquakes, floods, drought and horses. His body is not, just from the corner of the eye, made of muscle, bones and tendons. Water, swirling and moving in the shape of a man, the odd strand of algae. Then you turn and he is barely human, but not saltwater. The waves seek and tug at his heels whenever he walks along the beach. His eyes, oceanic tectonic plates crashing, sending tsunamis to devastate the world. The air around him is salty, sea air clinging to his skin. Algae appear in his wake, reeking of the sea.

DEMETER. Olympian goddess of agriculture, grain and bread who sustained mankind with the earth's rich bounty. In her wake, every step makes a grain sprout, growing tall and healthy, and nothing can take it down. The seasons are slowly blooming and booming in her presence, the spring more verdant, the summer hotter, autumn plentiful beyond measure and winter always frigid. From behind her ears sprout oats and barley, always young and vibrant green, crowning her in the coming bounty. Her eyes are the colour of wheat, and when the wind blows the shadows in her eyes move with it.

ARES. Olympian god of war, battlelust, courage and civil order. He is war, bloody and cruel, senseless, personified. His very presence makes fights break out, indignities and betrayals happen. He is an oppressive force that bring the bravery out of the people, along with all the hate. If he stays long enough in one place, even Olympus, war breaks out, be it civil or not. This is why he never stays in one place too long. He is luting for blood, but war had wearied him. He will not do the same mistake twice, even in war. His eyes are the open wounds of soldiers, bleeding, infected, dying skin and rotting meat.

ATHENA. Olympian goddess of wisdom and good counsel, war, the defence of towns, heroic endeavour, weaving, pottery and various other crafts. Every tapestry and pot and garment worked by hand that is not up to her godly standard shrivels and turns to ash in her presence, obliterated by her beyond-human perfectioned craft. Towns are instantly protected when she is there, good grace and godly favour. War, like Ares, follows her. It is not kinder, nor is it bearable. Calculated, cold, some would argue that her wars are crueler, sadistic. Eyes like garment fiber and shattered pots, blood covering them.

APOLLO. Olympian god of prophecy and oracles, music, song and poetry, archery, healing, plague and disease, and the protection of the young. The sun, a power passed on, burns under his skin. It is the worst in the summer months, when the sun is more preeminent. His music, lighting every room in shades of enticement, is otherworldly, his voice, be it in song or word, is a mastery of perfection. From his hands, a single touch can be salvation or sickness. His arrows, silver for his twin, always strike true, no matter the target. His presence brings prophecies and fates to light. The power of the sun is in his eyes.

ARTEMIS. Olympian goddess of hunting, the wilderness and wild animals. She was also a goddess of childbirth, and the protectress of the girl child up to the age of marriage. Around her sprout forests, wild and untainted, a world where humans could get lost in and never be found again. Wild animals prowl after her, protectors and friends of her hunters. When the night is darkest, a power inherited, her skin lights up, a moon to shine in the dark of the shadows. Her hunters, her girls, are protected and her wrath is painful and cruel, like her domains, and they are recognisable by their golden arrows.

HEPHAESTUS. Olympian god of fire, smiths, craftsmen, metalworking, stonemasonry and sculpture. Beneath his skin flames are visible, a moving part of him, like tattoos. Every piece of metal he works with, no matter how briefly, turns into beatiful and powerful tools, an art all of their own. His buildings are steady and everlasting, the stone protected by his touch. His eyes, the hammer hitting metal, are coloured in such a way that they resemble statue's eyes.

APHRODITE. Olympian goddess of love, beauty, pleasure and procreation. Born of sea foam and godly blood, the salt clings to her. Curls her hair and makes her glow, the power of the sea just under her perfect skin. Everyone finds something beautiful in the face of beauty. It is enchanting, a spell most can hardly exist. She is everything everyone could ever want, a goddess for everyone's taste. Yet her anger is born of the sea, a cruel and unforgiving sort of death. To make love dislike you is to lose it all in the blink of an eye. To disrespect a goddess means death.

HERMES. Olympian god of herds and flocks, travellers and hospitality, roads and trade, thievery and cunning, heralds and diplomacy, language and writing, athletic contests and gymnasiums, astronomy and astrology. He speaks in languages long lost, and his travel notes are written in queer glyphs and writing systems. Sheep like him, without doubt. The souls of humans clash and itch to follow him when he enters a room, beyond willing to be taken to the underworld. The stars illuminate his path, a road he knows by heart but they don't care. They will guide him, no matter what.

DIONYSUS. Olympian god of wine, vegetation, pleasure, festivity, madness and wild frenzy. Vines grow from his footsteps, water and seawater and nectar and any other drink turn to wine in his hand. Where he is, the frenzied, happy and drunk follow, a retinue of people that enjoy and enjoy and enjoy. There is nothing not to like at first glance, and only at first glance. When one looks closer, the insanity begins. It is like sparks in his eyes, a nonsensical word past his lips. When you look closer at the people, there is no happiness in the thaws of madness.

HESTIA. The virgin goddess of the hearth and the home. It does not make her kind, because the gods rarely are. It makes her steady, the fire in the home that keeps the chill away from making itself at home. The fire that lights the way back home, sacred in temples and to extinguish it is to forsake her favour. Homes she has blessed are cozy, full of love, of safety. It does not make them fireproof.

HADES. The king of the underworld and god of the dead. He, king over bones and lost memories. His wife, unnamable, his presence like the heavy hand of time on mortal shoulders. Bones and skulls and the wispy whisper of the lost are his retinue. Half decomposed corpses his servants and valets and butlers. His name, scorned, is never said but on the eve of the winter solstice, when death is the surest companion. His eyes, dark but brittle as bone, promise something any other god can't understand.

PERSEPHONE. Goddess queen of the underworld, wife of the god Hades. She was also the goddess of spring growth. Her presence brings with it the smell of the first flowers of spring, little by little making the world greener. But her steps are always silent, always just a little far from the ground. She is a queen, death is her and her husband's domain. Of course she is ghostly, terrifying. Her perfume is of freshly dug earth and autumnal rain, the weeps of widows and widowers, the death of the young and elderly. Her name is unspoken, a curse when invoked. You will not hear her name on Olympus, in mortal mouths. Kore, Despoena, her titles are safe. Her eye is not benevolent, when it's attention is captured.

[winterarmyy]

Thin Walls, Thin Lines

What will happen if a fuckboy falls in love with a hopeless romantic?

Summary: Modern society surely had corrupted the mind of the hundred-something year old man, Bucky Barnes, when he seemed to have forgotten the art of courting a lady. Lost in lust and pleasure, he had been indulging with endless array of different girls on his bed almost every night. And the opposite side of that thin walls of his room, lives a hopeless romantic who he was madly in love with.

Navigation: Original Version || Deleted Scene* (alt. ending)

Pairing: fuckboy!bucky x female!reader

Words: 4.9k++

Warnings: avenger au, explicit language/contents, angst, lil bit of drama, fluff, please bare with the fuckery of bucky barnes, reader is sensitive yet quite fiesty too. i can't backup steve on this one, he is on his own.

A/N: As you can see from the navigation bar, we have two different endings for this fic, because I am greedy and indecisive. The original version ended with fluff and the deleted scene (alternate ending) ended with absolute filth of a smut. So... enjoy! 💕

P/S: And this is also my submission for @jessybarnes 's writing challenge. I have chosen "Kiss me again" from the prompt list and I hope you like the way I used it in this fic!

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Y/N has always been a hopeless romantic. She dreams of a love like the ones she read in books. She craved someone who loves her so deeply that she could never find peace in anyone else but him. She wanted all the love songs and poetry to be reminders of him; his beauty, his charms.

Fresh flowers, stargazing, coffee dates, kisses that tastes of cotton candy, warm cuddles, and every little things in between; she longed for it all. She dreams of a love that is so consuming until all that's left in that small bubble of infatuation is their entangled soul mending each other to the bone.

That's what makes her a hopeless romantic.

And very much the opposite of her was Bucky. He is an infuriating flirt. There's not a day goes by that he doesn't call her with sickeningly sweet nicknames; doll, gorgeous, princess, darling, you name it. He will definitely drop some suggestive lines at any given chance and most of the time when she least expected.

He can charm anyone just by his presence, and if you're lucky enough to get one of his infamous smile; then you best believe that you won't be going home alone that night, or able to walk proper the next morning. He is the typical playboy you know and hate; very often she'll see different girl in his arms or on his bed. And that man seemed to not know when to stop. Sometimes, she do wonder if he ever got tired of sex. Because she knows for certain that he can go on and on for hours, daily.

"Fuck,, that's it. Spread your legs for me. Yeah, 'atta girl."

Speaking of the devil.

This has been recurring for months now. It seems like the man never sleep because his voice would always wake her up. She couldn't decide what was worse; between being forced to hear the sounds of the skin slapping, the bed creaking, him groaning and her squealing or being a super light sleeper that even a whisper in her room would jolt her awake.

Y/N let out an annoyed grunt when she swoop her head under the pillow, hoping to silenced the noises even just a little bit. Surprise; it didn't help at all. Her body cringed and her face contorted into a squint when she hear the other woman announcing her release as the headboard hits the wall a little harder, a little faster.

Bucky Barnes sure is a fuckboy but unfortunately for her, he is also the man she fell in love with.

She refused to show it, but lord knows how much her heart simply swell to the sight of his smile. Despite the flirtatious tendencies of his, there was something about him that attracted her like a magnet; or like a moth to a flame.

Maybe it was his old soul, or maybe because she saw glimpses of timeless charm in him; the way he moves, the way he gazes, and the way treated her. Nevertheless, it was such a devastating thing for someone like her to fall for someone like him.

The last thing she wanted in a man, is to look at her like she was just a good fuck and nothing more. She just couldn't imagine herself to be tied with someone like that. And Bucky was exactly that someone.

Y/N haven't been able to get more than 2 hours of sleep for months now. The lack of it had caused her to drastically lose physical strength and lately fatigue has been a constant presence as well.

So she decided to go the medbay to consult Dr. Cho about it. After running some tests, she sat her down for some Camomile tea as she went through the results, "It seemed like the severe lack of sleep had took a really heavy toll on you."

Y/N sighed as she place the tea cup on the back on the table, "Yes, I am well aware of that. That is precisely why I am here."

"Nightmares?" Dr. Cho speculated.

If the definition of nightmare is 'the moans of the man, that she had a crush on, fucking someone else next door' then, yes. She was having long and nearly endless nightmares for months now.

"Something like that." She lied.

"Then, I have some medication that I can prescribe to you. You should take it daily after dinner and..." Before Dr. Cho managed to finish her instructions, Y/N quickly asked, "Is it possible to fix me without meds?"

Dr. Cho frowned curiously, "Why wouldn't take meds? That's the quickest way to help for your situation, as far as I know." she asked.

This was not her first rodeo; she had troubles sleeping back when she was merely teenager. And the last time tried using meds, she ended up almost overdosed herself from it, "It's just... I prefer not to." she evaded.

Dr. Cho nodded understandingly before clarifying the current situation, "Well then, I'm sorry but there's nothing I can do for you. Though some research suggested that meditation routine before sleep can help. Or putting up some natural ambience like the sound of rain or waves--"

Y/N wasn't really listening after the first sentence. Because all she could thought of was how much longer she can bare with this and what will it take for her to finally snap.

Y/N was dying. At least it felt like it.

With her deprivation of sleep and the intense combat training she had to go through today, her patience was reaching it's limit. After visiting the medbay 2 weeks ago, she had tried to approach Bucky about it but he always took it lightly.

There was series of insincere apology followed by a cheeky promise to 'keep the tone down' for her. But nothing changed. She asked him again and again; days gone by he didn't live up to the end of his bargain.

For those past week, Y/N had resorted to sleep in the living room for most of the nights. How she dreaded to leave her comfy bed but she could no longer tolerate the sounds coming from the other side on the wall. Though she still jolted awake from time to time due to how uncomfortable it was sleeping on a couch, but at least she got more than 2 hours of sleep if she was to compare to the nights she slept in her own room.

It's not she didn't notice it at all; she knew exactly how and why it happened. The habit of microsleeping that she developed during the course of this training. The slowed reaction time, the lack of energy, she can feel it. But, there was nothing she can do about it.

The only cure for this was to get some rest. A proper rest. And that can't happened, not without Bucky's cooperation.

When Y/N was marching towards the sargent who was sitting way across the gym; she could see how his eyes undress every piece of her clothing, how his tongue rolled out and his teeth sunk into his lips.

She wasn't even wearing anything remotely provocative but here he was lusting over the way her hips sway especially when he was the one she's walking towards.

The moment she stood in front of him, his mouth lifted into a smirk, "Yes, princess. How may I be of your service?" His voice was sultry and the way he towers over made her slightly nervous for no reason.

Her heart fluttered, yet her lips refused to form a smile, "Don't call me princess."

"I apologize, my queen." Bucky gave her a cheeky smile.

Y/N didn't want to drag this any longer than she should, so she quicky jump into it and said, "So you know how I’m like-"

"-absolutely embarrassingly in love with me? Yes, I'm familiar go on." Bucky cuts in. If panic ever rose in her chest, then she was doing an incredible job of hiding it, "Can you just shut up for a second and take me seriously?"

His eyes glint with flirtaous mischief when he replied, "Doll, you know the fastest way to shut me up is to kiss me."

Y/N simply sighed before she began to rant, "I really don't have the mood for this banter with you, Barnes. I just want you tone down your nightly routine. It is because of you I've been having trouble sleeping and--"

He quickly stopped her before she nags even more than she already did, "Okay, okay I get it. We've been through this, doll." Bucky's face lit up when he suggested, "How about I help you sleep, hmm? I may know a thing or two about tiring someone out." There was surely something unholy in those steel blue eyes of his.

And Y/N picked it up rather quick, but considering the amount of times he had insinuate something more than just a friendly banter, then of course she knew exactly what he was suggesting, so she simply replied, "No offense, Barnes. But, I don't do one night stand or no strings attached thing. And with a manwhore like you? No, thank you." sassy was her answer.

Bucky's head tilted back as he laughed, then when he spoke his voice was like a devil luring an angel to sin, "Oh babydoll, if I were to be a whore, it'll only be for you." He stepped closer so that only she can hear his confession.

His masculine scent hits her nose, mixture of the citrus cologne and his natural odour was just perfect. Annoyingly alluring; but perfect. And it took all her will to hold it together and blatantly rejects him, "Still not interested."

Bucky groaned in protest, "Come on, princess. You can't keep dreaming for some prince charming to court you, do you? You know that's probably never going to happen right?"

Surely he meant only to tease her; that it was less likely that an actual prince to romance her. Not that she did not deserve the world; she does. And Bucky was more than will to burn it to the ground if that's what she wanted.

But, Y/N didn't see it that way. She thought that Bucky meant that she is not worthy enough for a decent man to court her with respect and chilvary; that she was just a toy fit for fucking and nothing more. And the fact that her "insomia" had affected her usually high patience and reduced it to almost paper thin, it was only fair for her to finally snap.

She can tolerate his endless flirtation but she can't simple turn a blind eye for his insult.

Bucky was caught by surprise why Y/N harshly grabbed him by the collar, pushing him back and nearly stumbled; her eyes was pure fire when she growled, "Don't you dare mock the way I value relationship, Barnes." Her nose flared with anger and the commotion has attracted some prying eyes towards the two.

"Just because you enjoy fucking anything that breathes, that doesn't mean that everyone else does." She seethed, "The only cock that will be wrecking my pussy would belong to someone I love and if you have a problem with that, you can fuck right off." She forcefully pushed him until his ass landed on the bench behind him.

Her feet stomped all throughout her exit out of the gym, leaving Bucky in a blinking confusion.

He knew it was wrong.

It felt good. It felt right.

But, it was so fucking wrong.

To keep moaning Y/N's name when he railed those strangers to heaven; when he came so hard into the thin layer of condom. And it was always a soft and slow type of whimper, right in those girls' ears. So intimate, so careful not to let his secret out; knowing how thin the walls between him and the love of his life.

But, he certainly didn't care about the girl he was fucking. If it wasn't for his heavy body pinning her from behind, she would've elbowed him right in the guts for moaning another woman's name. Unfortunately for him, she quickly ditched and see herself out after the first round.

Now, he laid there; naked and bare. Thinking of how he simply couldn't help it. How could he not think of Y/N all the times? Not when he was deeply, helplessly in love with her. But, he knew she wouldn't bat an eye at him now that he had the reputation of a "fuckboy", as the young ones describes it. She especially made it clear today at the gym. She's never going to give him a chance now.

Not when she's a hopeless romantic. And the fact that he too was once the same was just aggravating to him. He was such a gentleman decades ago; before Hydra, before the war, when he was but a young man living Brooklyn.

His Ma had really shaped him into the perfect gentleman; every parents in the neighbourhood wanted him as their son-in-law. They claimed he would make the perfect husband for their daughters. But, things are different now. And he knew that the man he was before was long forgotten.

It was just curiosity at first; about how sex works in the 21st century. However, Bucky quickly fall into the promises of lust and pleasure; changing girls like changing clothes. He let himself dosed in ecstasy, as if it was a drug to silenced the dark and haunting memories of his past, like it was a quick escape from reality, from the Winter Soldier.

Then, Y/N happened.

Bucky never saw it coming; but, he fell. Hard.

They were colleague for years and had been a good friend he can rely on besides Steve. She was so sweet and pretty. Probably the most gorgeous woman he ever laid his eyes on, in the hundred something year old life of his. Most importantly, she was kind and patient and strong and fierce yet so unforgivingly selfless. 

But that didn't matter now, does it? Especially when she despise him. And it was all because of the unholy title he held.

At first Bucky didn't notice it, but now that he stepped closer into the living room, he heard it again. The rustling fabric, the quiet whimper coming from the sofa. His steps were as careful as a wolf on a hunt, stalking a hiding prey in between the trees.

If Bucky were to guess what he would find on a late night trip to the kitchen, he would've probably said 'ice cream' and not 'Y/N sleeping in the living room'. His eyes briefly raked her sleeping figure, curling uncomfortably into the pastel purple blanket. Then at the scattered pillows on the floor around her.

Why was she sleeping in the living room?

Another whine passed her lips and his attention was locked on her frowning face; it seemed like she was having a bad dream. Bucky carefully crouch next to her, and ravel in her beauty. Such delicate features, long lashes, pretty freckles across her nose, and those soft looking lips; he would kill just to taste her them, to sink his teeth in between them.

It worried him though; to see her sleeping here. She was clearly uncomfortable, it was a mystery that she managed to even fall asleep in the first place. Bucky suspected she simply passed out due to today's training. It was particularly hard, even for him. Let alone a normal human being like Y/N.

Not to mention the fight that they had.

Then, it clicked. The complains about how she had trouble sleeping. It wasn't just to make fun of him or tease him in any way. It was a plead. She needed to be heard and he completely blew her off with jest and jokes.

"Was it because of... me?" Bucky thought to himself. It all made sense now, "Shit." A curse rang in his mind when he bit the insides of his cheek. He was mad at himself. How could he be so insensitive? And he claimed to love her? Please. What an absolute piece of shit he was.

When Y/N began to toss and turn, her blanket fell from her body. Even in her sleep, the cold managed to catch her. She instinctively curled towards herself, seeking warmth but was no avail.

She look so small and Bucky felt a surge of need to cuddle her close, keeping her safe, keeping her warm in his arms. But if he does that, he'd probably get kicked in the nuts. So instead, he picked up the fallen blanket lay it back across her whole body; carefully not to disturb her sleep.

Bucky smiled softly when she snuggled into the fabric and before he walked away, he swore to stop this corrupting habit of his and apologize for being such a douchebag to her. And if he's lucky, maybe he could even properly court her.

But for now, he just needed to go through tommorrow's mission. So does everyone one else in the team.

"Do you realized what you have done?" Not matter how hard he tried to hold it back, everyone in the Quinjet can see how Steve was seething.

Y/N's lost of sleep had took a toll on her more than she realized now that it had affected her performance in mission. She tried to ignore the way she was basically seeing Steve's feet multiply by the second, and continued to look down in shame, "I'm sorry, Captain."

"Don't apologize to me. Nat's the one who got shot because of you!" He yelled as he pointed at the red haired woman at the side of the plane.

No matter how much she wanted to blame Bucky on this; how he literally robbed her from fulfilling her human needs to rest at night, but she just couldn't. It was her fault that Natasha got hurt. If she was more alert, she would've seen the enemy standing right in front of her. If she was awake enough, then Natasha wouldn't get hurt.

Tears threatened to form when she looked over at her dear friend, bleeding at the side, "I'm so sorry, Nat. I really am. I didn't know what came to me and I--"

"Oh please, I'd take a bullet for you any day of the week, honey." Natasha swiftly cuts into her apology, in attempt to diffuse the heated situation.

But, Steve totally disagree with her, "Don't make this 'okay', Nat. You almost died because for her carelessness. Being inadequate shouldn't be okay for any agent to do. It is extremely reckless and downright stupid."

There was a sound of a distant gasp from the pilot pit, "Language!" Tony was clearly trying to lighten up the mood but it failed rather miserably when no one reacted.

Steve had every right to be mad, especially when his girlfriend was injured because of this, but oh does it hurt to hear his stabbing words. It hurts more when it comes from the Captain America himself.

God, she was extremely tired.

Physically, mentally and that's what happens when a person is lack of sleep. Then when she thought about all her hardwork and struggles to train amongst the superhero themselves, she couldn't help but to crack; and the tears that was building up in her eyes finally fell.

When Steve saw it, he lost it completely, "Oh, you're gonna cry now? WOW. Real mature, y/n. You can't disappoint me more can you?" At that point, he was being a little too mean for anyone's liking.

Especially Bucky.

So Bucky slowly pulled Y/N back, and shielded her body behind his as he went on face to face with his bestfriend, "That's enough, Steve." He warned but Steve doesn't seem to get the idea, "No, Buck. Do you see--"

Bucky took one step closer, his menacing glare went right through Steve's soul, "I said... that's enough." He repeated his words. This time the message went through.

Steve gulped and cleared his throat as he waved a dismissing hand, "I expect a full report and a letter of apology from you when we get back, y/n." He ended his sentence with his back turned and then walked away towards his girl.

When Bucky turned around to face Y/N, she was but a crying mess. Tears kept streaming down and her lips quivered in so much sadness. Now, that she was in the light, Bucky could see the darker shades on the bag of her eyes.

This was his fault. If he just stopped goofing around and listen to what she had to say yesterday, she wouldn't need to go through this, "Oh sweetheart..." though he meant to call her in his mind, it might just slipped through his lips.

Y/N glared up at him, "This was none of your concern, Barnes." She spat.

He shrugged, "Well, lucky for you, I don't care whose it is. What I know is I care about you. Now, let's get that wound patch up." Bucky simply said, and that was when she realized that her ribs were slashed open, bleeding and torn. Maybe it was not too deep, that was why she didn't notice it.

But it is an injury nonetheless, and it was a surprise to her that Bucky noticed it. "I don't want your help." She frowned yet continued to sniffle.

"Yeah, but you need it." He replied as he carefully tucked the loose strand of her hair behind her ears.

Unable to think of any comebacks, she let her fatigue win over. Her lips shut tightly and her chest shuddered for breaths. And when Bucky took her hand in his and lead the way, her body instantly responded by gripping him tight.

Bucky's heart soared at the touch of her small hand in his, while fire was burning in hers.

She hates him. She hates how caring he can be. She hates how soft he was when handling her. And she hates how easy it was for him to make her fall for him even more.

Y/N's body quickly went on auto pilot; she let him undress the blood soaking top and patch her wounds. And Bucky let her cry her heart out on his shoulder all the way back home to New York.

That night when everyone had settled back to their own rooms, Y/N was prepping to sleep outside again. It was like a schedule for Bucky to always fuck whatever his frustrations out when they finished a mission.

And she doesn't want to hear any of it. Not tonight.

Thankfully, her wounds were mostly healed thanks to Dr. Cho and her ingenious of a machine, Cradle. That thing fixed the teared tissue right up with its regenerative  functions.

Now, Y/N just needs to endure the bruises but those are bearable. What she couldn't bear is the lack of energy and goodnight's sleep. She wished to just pass out for days and not wake up even if a prince came to kiss her to wake.

And she knew that sleeping in her room won't give her that.

Y/N piled her pillows and blanket on top of another before scanning the room one last time to make sure she didn't leave anything behind. Because she was not planning to step foot in her room until dawn comes, hoping the sounds from the other side of the room died down by then.

When she was walking pass Bucky's, she noticed how awfully quiet his room was, but she didn't think about it too much. She waited for the elevator to open its door only to reveal the man himself, "Barnes."

He eyed how Y/N's figure almost hidden behind the piles of pillow in her hold. He stepped out as he asked, "Where do you think you're going?" Bucky knew exactly where but he was not having any of that.

It was weird to her that she didn't see any sign or Bucky's hook-up in his arms, but she bet that there will be one after she's gone downstairs, "Away from you, that's for sure." She said, taking a step into the elevator but instantly stopped the moment Bucky blocked her path.

Bucky lips flatten against each other; he didn't say anything, he only frowned down at her then simply grabbed her wrist and dragged her back to her room.

Utterly confused, "What are you doing? Hey, let go of me." She twisted her wrist in his hold, while trying to balance the pillows from falling. A useless trial it was; because who could even escape that metal grip of his.

Bucky quickly respond, "No. You're not sleeping on that shitty sofa tonight." He stopped in the middle of the corridor and turned to her, "You're injured, y/n. You need on a proper rest on a proper bed." He coaxed.

How did he know that she had been sleeping on the coach? She thought before saying out loud, "I'm fine, Barnes. It's not even that deep of a wound, the Cradle fixed it clean. So, can you just... let go of my hand?" She sighed.

But Bucky refused to even spare her a glance, he silently tug her and stomp his way towards her room. There waa retaliation on her side, but his lack of response had lead Y/N to her defeat. She begrudgingly followed his long strides until she they stood by her bed.

He snatched each of the pillows and blankets off her hands, while Y/N simply blinked speechlessly as she watched Bucky started set up her bed like he had been doing it everyday.

Weirdly, at times like this, she found him extremely lovely. There was no corny and flirty comment about her, or his annoying habit of teasing every little thing she does.

There was just a comfortable silence and a kind gesture; the type that pulled the red strings of her heart just enough to make her want to dream of him.

Fucking hell, she can't believe that he managed to do that again! Making her fall for his antics. He really needs to stop doing that, it's simply rude.

Y/N broke from her love struck trance when she felt his cold metal laced around her hand again, he pulled her closer, "Now hop on, bunny. You need to rest." He lead her under the blanket and she grumbled curses under her breath, something about he need stop calling her weird nicknames like that.

When she was well tucked in and comfortable, Bucky sat at the edge of the bed by her side and spoke, "I'm sorry. For not trying to listen to you at the gym yesterday. I was a jerk."

His apology was so sincere that Y/N caught herself in a shock. Who is this man? What has he done to Bucky Barnes?

His eyes lingered to the wall behind her bed as if he was trying to find the right words to address it, "About the noises..." he trailed, "...it'll stop from now on."

Oh. Nevermind. She liked this Bucky. She wants to keep him forever, "Really? You mean it?" There weren't any effort put to hide her excitement when her voice nearly squeaked.

Bucky chuckled amusingly at her reaction, "Really, doll. But, you gotta promise not to sleep on the couch again."

Sparks of joy filled her chest when he confirmed his decision. Sure, it was such a small favour to do to anyone. But, she appreciate his efforts to make amends. "Hmm, I promise." She hummed happily, blinking slow as the comfort of her bed lured her into a drowsy state.

"Thanks, Bucky." Her mentioned his name.

Thank god for the super sensitive hearing ability, cause Bucky surely love the sound of her voice whispering his name so softly, "For apologizing or for tucking you to sleep?" He jest.

It only made her eyes rolled to the side and a smile spread across her face, "Both." she said. "And for what you did on the jet."

Bucky simply shrugged as if it was a normal thing to do. But, it wasn't. It was rare for him to challenge Steve like he did. And he did it for her, "Really, I owe you one." She said assuringly.

A playful smirk pulled on Bucky's lips when he spoke "Doll, you shouldn't be saying that so carelessly. Who knows I might use it for despicable things." Surely, he love to be the cause to bloom those red shades on her cheeks.

But it didn't happened when she asked quietly, "Will you?"

And the silence that came after was heavy with tenderness while their eyes spoke the truth to one another. As the thin lines in between got blurry, for once, there was just streams of genuine feelings pouring out of them, leaking through and contaminating the air with its magic.

Would he? Take advantage of her?

How could he though? He loved her too much to even think of purposely hurting her. "No." Bucky replied as he leaned down and placed a sweet kiss on her forehead, "Sleep well, princess." He mumbled against her skin.

And he pulled back, he grinned a cheeky smile. There it was; the pink blush on her face, wide surprise of her eyes and her slightly parted lips. She looked so adorable. He swore couldn't get enough of it.

"Kiss me again..." she nearly growled, but her blushing on her face didn't indicate anger, "...and I will choke you in your sleep." Though it was an attempt to threaten but typical of Bucky to just love to turn things around, "Hmm, is that an invitation, princess?" He purred and stole another kiss; this time, on her cheek. "Then, I will be looking forward to it." He whispered as quickly as he removed himself from the scene.

When he found his own bed, he couldn't help but to laugh at the muffled scream coming from the opposite side of the thin walls, "James. Fucking. Barnes!!!"

End.

Alternate ending (smut edition): Deleted Scene >>

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: I hope you drop some thoughts behind before going to the deleted scene. Which I know you will. See you on the other side 👀

[silentglassbreak]

Here we are, folks. The long, highly anticipated Part 2 of Can You Feel My Heart... I told you all I had a surprise for you, didn't I? Well, naturally, I wasn't lying. This piece of work was actually not written by me... Rather, it was written by the Smut Master herself, @notyourmomsromancenovel. After much discussion and careful consideration, we decided this story is going to be a series with an undetermined number of parts, every chapter bouncing between her and I. I'm going to warn you now, friends, we're going to get dark with this one... Now, without further ado...we sincerely hope you enjoy. xo -Glass & Romance

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: angst, crime?, smut, rough sex, bondage, kinks (slapping, choking, etc.), mild violence, gut wrenching fuckery that will have your jaw on the table.

Taglist: @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @shilohrosechicken @jilliemiw86 @wasteddoubts @raspberrywatermelon @respectfulrebel @guacinyourarea @sydinhiidef @amelia-acero @runadaggerthroughmychest @foliosgirl @anything-more-than-human @ooh-whatever-nevermind @poisongirl616 @theanarchymuse95

I hope I got everyone on the taglist, but if I missed you - let me know!

Silence Speaks

The toothbrush fell from my open mouth and clattered in the sink loudly. I frantically hung up and tried the call again, fingers shaking as I held the phone to my ear.

“The number you have reached is not in service. If you feel you have reached this message in error, please hang up and try your call again.”

No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no. This can’t be right.

I thought back to our night together. The confession he made about his feelings toward me. The sex. Falling asleep together. The way he whispered to me as I fell asleep. Nothing about this is adding up.

I take a deep breath, close my eyes and try to clear the panic that is threatening to close in on me. I can feel my fingertips start to tingle, my ears are starting to ring. It feels like I can’t breathe and I know I’m on my way to a full blown panic attack if I don’t calm the fuck down. In through the nose, out through the mouth. One breath at a time. I can do this.

What the actual fuck is happening here?

My eyes fly open as I remember the last thing I heard Noah say as I drifted into unconsciousness.

“I’m so sorry. I wish things were different…”

I feel the bile make its way up my esophagus leaving me just seconds to make it over the toilet before I’m throwing up what little I could get down after the concert last night. Tears sting my eyes as I heave over and over again, with nothing left in my stomach but dead butterflies.

I lay my head against the cool toilet seat as I spit the last of the vomit from my mouth. Tears flow freely into the water, snot leaks continuously from my nose and I don’t even bother trying to clean myself up yet.

What’s the point anyway? What’s the point of anything?

My mind spirals to a dark place, wishing to be anyone but me. Losing Noah the first time was hard and took me years to recover from, and that was before he admitted he loved me.

This time...

This time might kill me. 

I hear my phone start to ring and my heartbeat picks up thinking it’s Noah. He’s got an explanation for why his phone was turned off, maybe a crazy fan got ahold of his number and he had to change it so he just got a new one. I scramble away from the toilet over to the corner, where my phone landed in my haste to not get vomit all over my bathroom sink. 

A picture of a smiling Ray and me at Knott’s Scary Farm last year looks up at me, and I think I might throw up again.

I let the call go to voicemail and sit on the ground, knees drawn up to my chest, arms wrapped around them, and lay my head down. I feel numb, light, like time means nothing anymore. 

I hear a text notification come through once, twice, and then another phone call. As soon as that phone call ends, a text comes through again. 

I groan and pick my phone up, intending to turn it off and pretend I don’t exist. I’ve been sitting like this for twenty minutes already, and I have no intention of moving any time soon.

As I swipe down the notification bar to power off my phone, I see the texts from Ray.

Ray: Hey babe, you good? You don’t usually call like that without saying something first.

Ten minutes later.

Ray: Babe? Raccoon if you’re alive or I’m going to show up at the house. I’m worried and I know you’re not asleep.

Ten more minutes before the final phone call and the last text.

Ray: Mkay well I’m on my way, see you in 15.”

I lean my head back against the cool wall. Fuck. How do I get Ray not to come home? I shoot her a quick text.

Me: Hey babe, I’m good. I think I might be coming down with something though, I don’t think you should come home. I’ll text you later.

My phone starts to ring and I see the picture of me and Ray. Double fuck. I fight for my life to sound semi-normal as I answer the phone.

“Hey.”

Not doing great so far.

I hear Ray scoff into her headphones, “Yeah, that’s real convincing. Here’s the deal, I’m already on my way so you can fuck right off with your sick act. We’re practically soul mates and I know something is up. Unlock the door so I don’t waste time with the key. I’ll see you in 10.”

I don’t even get a chance to respond before she hangs up. There’s no chance in hell I can hide this from Ray once she’s here. I’m going to break down the second she walks through the door, so I send her a text.

Me: Bring the Stella Black and some ice cream.

Almost immediately, I get a response,

Ray: Bringing the shovel too.

I almost smile.

I get up and unlock the door, returning to the bathroom to brush my teeth for the second time this morning while I wait for Ray to get here.

Two big bottles of Stella Black, a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Phish Food, a pint of Rainbow Sherbet and an entire box of Kleenex later, and Ray was caught up. We sat in silence now on my couch watching Scream, the original. 'Something happy' she said as she put it on. I was barely paying attention.

By the time we learned Billy Loomis and Stu Macher were the killers and I hadn’t laughed once or mimicked the way the actors were saying things, Ray turned it off with a sigh. She turned to me and took one of my hands in hers. 

“Babe,” She started. I looked at her as she continued. “I know this sucks, I mean really fucking sucks, but you have two options here.”

I just blinked in response.

“You can let this consume you - eat you alive like you did before. Or you could enter your villain era. Show him what he walked away from, what he’s been missing out on all these years. Fuck him and his band.”

“My villain era?” I questioned.

Ray smiled. “It’s not like we don’t know when he’ll be here again, or when he’ll be close. We can show up at his show and...I don’t know, throw tomatoes at him or something. Or boo him when he comes on stage? That would make you feel better, right?”

The gears in my head started turning. A villain era might be nice. A little side of crazy to keep him guessing. Show him that he fucked me over and used me for sex for the last time.

I felt a smile spread across my face as I answered. “Yeah, I think that would make me feel better, babe.”

As long as things didn’t get out of hand.

Seven months is a long time to plan revenge when you think about it. It gives you plenty of time to plot, come up with ideas, change them, scrap them for new ones, all in the hopes of executing the perfect way to get back at someone. And I have it now. Once I was done with Noah, he’d never even think of anyone but me.

This was how I made him pay for his actions.

Unfortunately, there had to be some collateral. Tyler and I split the day after Noah left. I confessed immediately to cheating on him and I was so numb from the after effects of Noah’s departure, I didn’t even have it in me to cry over Tyler. Watching him quietly sob while processing my infidelity should have broken me, but I had nothing left in me, at the time, to offer him the reaction he deserved. I should have had more remorse. More tact. Shouldn’t have been so blunt. 

“I fucked Noah Sebastian.”

No apologies, no tears. Just stating facts. 

“Y/N, we should talk about this.”

I sat staring at him without saying another word until he left.

Tyler never spoke to me again, not that I can blame him. He wouldn’t like what I was planning anyway.

Sitting at a hotel across the country in New Mexico, I wondered if I was really doing this. I took a deep breath, in through the nose, out through the mouth. There was no backing out now. Hotels were already booked, tickets were bought. New Mexico, then Arizona, followed by Oklahoma, and ending with Texas. Five shows. Four cities. That would be plenty to get my point across. I thought about going to Sick New World in Las Vegas, but tickets were pricier than I would have liked and a festival didn’t have the same intimacy I was looking for. 

I checked my phone to see a message from Raylene.

Ray: Hey babe, just checking in. Let me know you made it to your mom’s!

I sent back a quick -

Me: Made it! The flight took a lot out of me, I’m gonna crash for the night, I love you.

It was way too early for bed, but not if you factored in being jet lagged like I claimed. Besides, I wasn’t going to bed, and I wasn’t at my mom’s in Florida. I was in Albuquerque getting ready to head out to the first concert to enact the revenge I so desperately needed. I felt a quick stab of panic for not telling Ray what I was doing, or where I really was.

What if something happened to me? I was alone in an unfamiliar city, after all. I swallowed the panic as I had every time I thought of these moments the last seven months, and instead I focused on the rage I had for Noah. I focused on making him pay for all the hurt he caused.

Doors were at 6PM with I See Stars starting at 7 as the opening act. After their set, Invent Animate would play theirs. I figured I had about three hours from the time doors opened to Bad Omens going on stage.

Easy enough.

I waited out in the lot in my rental car as I watched the crowd start to go inside when they opened the doors. Minutes ticked by as the crowd got smaller and smaller. Soon, there were only a few stragglers left as late comers hurried to enter the venue before the bands went on.

It’s now or never.

I glanced over to the fenced area that contained the buses for the bands. No security. Perfect. A small venue like this probably didn’t have the manpower to house security outside as well as inside for the concert. I double checked the alarm I had set on my phone and got out of the car before I could change my mind. 

I walked as quickly as I could over to the side of the building where the buses sat while trying not to draw any extra attention to myself. Getting over the fence was the hardest part, but I managed with just a couple of muttered cuss words. Spotting the bus for Bad Omens was easy, as it was the biggest one there.

“Show offs.” I muttered under my breath and walked at a brisk pace to close the gap between me and the bus. 

I shrugged the backpack I carried off and placed it on the floor, crouching next to it and looking both directions before unzipping it, pulling out my first weapon of choice; spray paint.

Red, of course.

I shook the canister, willing the can to stay quiet and began spraying the side of the bus. Letter by letter, I covered one whole side of the bus in spray paint. Once I finished the sentence, I stood back to get a good look. 

My heart was racing with adrenaline, and I could feel the maniacal grin plastered on my face.

NOAH SEBASTIAN IS AN ASSHOLE

Childish? Sure. Satisfying? Fuck yes.

Up next, the inside. 

I walked up to the door of the bus and tried it. Unlocked. 'Cocky', I thought.

I made my way up the steps and closed the door behind me. I froze in my spot, awe-struck by the luxury this bus had.

It was a shame I was going to ruin it.

I reached in my backpack and grabbed another can of spray paint; black. I looked around. Driver’s seat to my right. Nothing to really do there. To my left was the living area with a pull out couch, a loveseat, a coffee table, and a TV. Just past that was the kitchen area which had a fridge, stove top, microwave, and dining table. Beyond that, behind a closed door, were what I assumed to be the bedrooms and bathroom. I’d save those for last. 

The spray paint got used up first. Black and red X’s painted various parts of the living space. A couple of 'FUCK YOU’s were written on the fridge and the TV. I pulled out my pocket knife next and went to town on the couch and loveseat, gouging holes in them, stabbing them dozens of times each. It was gratifying, watching the stuffing fly around as I unleashed all of the pent up aggression I had for Noah on these inanimate objects. 

I took a deep breath and admired my handiwork so far, noting the destruction the boys would walk into after their show. I might have gotten carried away as the TV lay broken on the floor, but the end result was the same. I was starting to feel better.

I made my way toward the back of the bus and opened the door leading to the bedrooms. It was easy to tell which was Noah’s, the last one on the right with the Bring Me The Horizon posters lining the walls above his bed. I knew I was running out of time so I wouldn’t be able to savor this as much as I’d like, but it was more important than everything else that I get this done, so I would get it done as fast as I could.

Just as I stepped into the room, I heard footsteps stomping on the stairs to the bus, and the doorknob began to turn. My heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest as I closed Noah’s door quickly behind me and dove under the bed. 

“What the fuck?!” I heard Noah’s voice scream as it echoed throughout the bus. 

Folio wasn’t far behind as he said, “Noah hurry up we’re about to go-” His voice cut off as he stepped onto the bus. “What the fuck?!”

Nick’s voice carried from outside as he chuckled, “What are we what the fuck-ing?” Followed quickly by, “Oh, what the fuck?!”

I guess they must have missed the writing on the outside of the bus with the sun having set, making the inside of the bus the first thing they saw that I had done. 

I was panicking. This was not supposed to happen. I was going to be out of here thirty minutes before they went on, and no one would ever know it was me. Trying not to hyperventilate as I hid under the bed became my biggest priority. I had to focus on calming down because I couldn’t hear the boys over the sound of my own blood rushing through my veins. Deep breaths, slowly. In through the nose, out through the mouth.

Their voices came back as I began to get control of my breathing. 

“... would do such a thing?” Nick asked incredulously.

“.... call the cops.” Folio was saying over Nick. 

The two of them continued talking over each other before Noah shushed them. “Did either of you or Jolly leave the door to the rooms open?”

Oh, fuck.

Everything got deathly quiet. My heart was beating loud enough that I’m sure all of them could hear it at this point.

I could hear their footfalls getting closer to the hallway. The door to the far left was flung open, banging against the wall. A moment of silence passed as I assumed Jolly’s room was cleared. The door next to it, next to Noah’s, crashed against the wall as one of the boys opened it harshly. Another beat of silence as they cleared Nick and Folio’s room. Noah’s room was next. I knew I had mere moments before that door crashed open and they found me in here.

My fingers began to tingle. My breath came in short gasps. I could feel my heartbeat in every inch of my body. The door slowly opened. The boys knew this was the last room. If anyone was still on the bus, they were in here.

Double fuck.

I could see two pairs of shoes clearly from my position under the bed. Noah’s Converse at the front, Nick’s combat boots right beside him, and beyond them I could make out Folio’s Docs. They took slow, deliberate steps into the room, making sure there was no one to be found. I was seconds away from giving myself away before they ever even got the chance to see me. I held my breath, trying to slow my heartbeat that I just knew was echoing throughout the bus.

“Hey guys,” Folio whispered from the doorway. “I know you’re obviously in the middle of something, but we have to go. We need to get ready on stage. We’re going on in about thirty minutes.”

Noah cursed under his breath as he gave up his search before getting the chance to check under the bed. He let Nick walk ahead of him as both of them turned to leave the room.

Oh thank fuck. 

Saved by the bell. I never thought I’d be so happy to know they were about to go on stage. Now I just needed to wait until they got off the bus and were heading into the venue before I got the fuck out of here. 

The door began to close behind Noah as I thought about what Folio had just said. They had to be on in about thirty minutes.

I’m so fucked.

No sooner had the thought crossed my mind, my alarm began to blare out of my phone signaling it was 8:30PM. 

In a panic, I tried to silence my phone before they heard it, scrambling to get it out of my jeans pocket and hit the snooze button. I was so busy trying to quell the noise, I didn’t hear the door open again, nor did I hear Noah crouch down in front of the bed. And I certainly was taken off guard when he grabbed a handful of my hair and began to pull me out from underneath his bed.

I dropped my phone, alarm still going off, and grasped at his hand in my hair, trying to get some reprieve from the pressure. I sucked in air through my teeth at the pain, and tried to gain traction with my shoes against the carpeted floor to delay the inevitable. After a few moments of struggling, Noah was able to get my head and arms out from under the bed. As if on cue, Nick and Folio each grabbed one of my hands and pulled me the rest of the way out. 

Once I was fully out from underneath the bed, Noah snatched me up onto my feet by my hair. He looked at me with anger, followed quickly by recognition, then confusion, before settling back on anger. 

He let go of my hair just long enough to grip my neck and throw me against his wall. “Y/N?! What the actual fuck?!”

I wrapped my hands around his wrist as his fingers dug into my throat, uselessly trying to get some air.

Folio placed a hand on Noah’s shoulder, “Hey man,” He started. “You've got to let her breathe.”

Noah’s hand loosened just enough for me to gasp in a breath of air that ended in a sharp cough. “You can breathe, so you can talk. I’ll ask again. What the actual fuck?”

Noah’s voice was calm, low, deadly. I’d never seen him like this, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of talking, not when he couldn’t give me the satisfaction of an answer to his transgressions. Instead, I just stared defiantly at him.

“Fuck, man,” Nick said, hands running through his hair. “We've got to go dude. Like, we've really got to go.”

“Cancel it.” Noah didn’t even glance back at Nick as he said it.

Nick physically flinched at the tone of Noah’s voice. 

Folio tried next. “Noah, seriously. We can’t cancel less than thirty minutes before the show. We have to go.”

I wasn’t sure if they were trying to convince him to leave for their benefit or mine, but I was grateful either way. The look in Noah’s eyes was terrifying, but it was also causing heat to pool low in my abdomen, and I had no interest in unpacking that feeling, so I needed him to let me go and leave.

As if he could read my mind, he sighed and turned back to Nick and Folio. “Fine.”

I could have cried.

“Grab me the rope from the utility closet. We’ll make her nice and comfortable, and then we’ll go play our show.” Noah looked back at me. “She can answer my questions when we’re done.”

Well, fuck.

An hour and a half passed while I sat there tied up. The longest hour and a half of my life. I assumed they would be back quicker, but apparently having a hostage tied up wasn’t a good enough reason to hurry things along.

I was laying on Noah’s bed, wrists zip tied together with rope connecting the zip ties to the bed. My feet were spread, each being tied to one metal post by rope. Of course, Noah got sick of me mouthing off about what a dick he was so there was a bandana in my mouth, tied around the back of my head.

“You’re so pretty when you’re bound and gagged.” Noah had whispered into my hair as he finished tying the knot behind my head.

I had shuddered, and I’d like to think it was from revulsion, but my body had other ideas.

That was then, though. Me and my body were on the same wavelength now. We were pissed. He had kept me here for far too long. I was irritated, my wrists were sore, and I had to pee. I swear the people being kidnapped in the movies never have to pee. 

I had half a mind to wet myself in Noah’s bed, just to see his reaction when he came back. I had almost talked myself into it when I heard the bedroom door open. 

Looking over, Noah stood silhouetted in the doorway, one hand on the doorknob and the other on the door frame. He looked out of breath, chest heaving rhythmically. I just glared at him.

“Oh good, you’re still here.” He smirked. “I’m going to go take a shower. Wash the funk of the show off me. Then, we’ll talk.”

I was screaming beyond my gag, which was pointless as he had already shut the door and started the shower. What an insufferable asshole. Being riled up again made me completely forget about my full bladder as I thrashed around, which really only made things worse for me. 

By the time Noah emerged again, shoulder length hair dripping onto his shirtless chest and a towel wrapped around his lower half, I was exhausted. My wrists were throbbing, my throat hurt, my mouth was dry, and my ankles were starting to burn from where the rope rubbed them. He looked like a pornstar, and I looked like a mess. 

I watched Noah reach into his dresser to grab a pair of gray sweatpants and a black tank top. Then, he turned and faced me, and dropped his towel.

I wish I could tell you I looked away - or at the very least closed my eyes - but I didn’t. My gaze quickly fell to the towel as it came unraveled from around his waist, and then locked intently at what it was covering. 

As if he had all the time in the world, Noah bent forward and slowly began to put on his sweatpants, and I followed his every move until he tucked himself inside of them. His shirt was on much quicker, but I couldn’t help but notice how much drier my mouth seemed after watching his arms flex as he pulled it over his head. 

Noah slowly prowled towards me, a fire blazing in his eyes, and I couldn’t tell if it was lust or hatred that was behind them. 

Once he reached the bed, he dropped to his knees beside me and untied the bandana from behind my head, letting his fingers graze my cheeks as he removed it from my mouth.

“Are you ready to talk?”

“Go fuck yourself, Detective Asshole.” I spit. “This isn’t an interrogation for me. It should be one for you.”

Noah looked amused at my remark. “For me? I didn’t realize I was the one that had broken into my own tour bus and vandalized it. You realize you caused tens of thousands of dollars in damages right?”

I had realized that, but hearing it said out loud made me feel small. “I’m aware of what I did, Noah, but are you?”

“Tell me, Y/N, what did I do?”

All those months of anger, all those months of planning, all the pain - it came down to this right here, this confrontation. It wasn’t happening as I had expected it to, but I’d take what I could get.

Just as I had begun to formulate my verbal attack against him, tears welled in my eyes, and the first word I tried to say turned into a sob.

Noah’s face fell. The hardened criminal persona I had tried to portray crumbled as the hurt he had caused washed over me. 

“You...” I had to pause as the sobs wracked my body. “You left me, Noah. You broke my heart. Not just once, but twice. You broke my soul. Shattered it and left me in pieces. And then you came back into my life, just to give me a second of hope. Of happiness. And then you stole it away. You took everything I had to live for. You took every chance I ever had of loving anyone ever again. You were it for me, Noah. The only thing that kept me going day in and day out, and losing you the first time, I had to learn to live with only half of me.”

Tears flowed silently down my face as I continued. “Leaving me the last time? You took the rest of me with you. The damage I’ve caused to your bus is the smallest glimpse of the pain you’ve caused me. It doesn’t even scratch the surface, and you deserve so much more for what you’ve done!”

I watched as tears tracked lines down Noah’s face. I watched as the fire he had when he came into the room was smothered. I watched as the boy I fell in love with, the one I knew all those years ago, resurfaced. Gone was the hardened Noah Sebastian. This, this was Noah Davis; the love of my life, my soul mate, my reason for being. And I watched as he crumbled as he realized how badly he had hurt me.

“Y/N, you don’t understand.” He started, choking up and having to clear his throat as he continued. “I had to.”

“You didn’t have to do anything, Noah.” I couldn’t back down now. “You could have let me in! You could have let me love you. You could have done anything except fuck me over, but you’re selfish and it’s all you know how to do. All you’ve ever done is shut out anyone who got too close. I don’t even think you know what the meaning of love is at this point.”

He looked so broken, his eyes mirrored the pain I had been feeling these past seven months. “I couldn’t bring you into this life, Y/N! Not like this. I changed, I was different, there was no way you could ever want who I became. I was saving you from me!”

There it was. The reason Noah left. He was trying to save me from him?

“Noah, that’s not your decision to make! You should have given me a chance to decide for myself if I could be with the person you became. Spoiler alert, I can! I love you, Noah Davis. With every fiber of my being and every inch of my soul. There is no one else for me. Why can’t you see that?”

I watched as realization dawned on him, watched as he realized how big of a mistake he made, and it was almost satisfying enough to make up for everything he did to me.

“Oh, fuck.” He whispered. “I fucked up. I fucked up worse than I could have possibly imagined. How could I have been so stupid?”

“All I’ve ever wanted was you, Noah, in whatever version of yourself that you are. It’s just you.”

He lowered his forehead to mine and closed his eyes, “What can I do to make this up to you? What can I do to begin to earn your forgiveness? You’re all I want Y/N, if you’ll still have me.”

I shut my eyes and tried to think, my mind working furiously to try to come up with something, anything to say. This was going so far differently than I had ever imagined, but maybe it would have the same outcome?

“You could start by untying me?” I asked softly, and even I heard the seductive edge in my tone. 

Noah’s head snapped up, and he reached up to undo the rope that bound my zip tied wrists to the bed. He stopped short, though, glancing at my face and then running his eyes down my body to where my legs were spread, tied to his bed. He took his time staring before slowly meeting my gaze again.

There was that fire again. 

“I don’t know.” He stood then, and I looked to see his growing erection pressing against his sweats. “I did say you were so pretty when you were bound and gagged. I meant it.”

I felt wetness at my core and desperately tried to rub my thighs together, anything to get some friction where I desperately needed it. I hadn’t had sex since that fateful night with Noah all those months ago, and I was definitely feeling the effects of that loss now. 

 Noah’s eyes glanced at my thighs, and a grin spread across his face,

“Do you like the sound of that? Does my girl want to get fucked while she’s tied up?”

I could only whimper in response, but Noah took that as all the invitation he needed to push his sweatpants down, freeing his erection. He slowly stroked his shaft, once, twice, making sure my eyes were watching his hand as he worked himself. I could feel my breath quicken as I licked my lips, desperate to feel him. 

“Would you like a taste, princess?” I nodded and locked eyes with him as he moved closer, lining his cock up with my lips. I gently licked his tip, where a bead of precum had formed. This caused his head to tilt back, which gave me the opportunity to wrap my mouth around his head, using my tongue to caress the base of his cock. 

He pulled away from me, and I whined at the loss of him. “Not so fast,” He chuckled. “I’m in control here, isn’t that right?”

“God, yes Noah.” I groaned.

“That’s a good girl." He stated as he lined himself up with my lips again. “Are you going to let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours the way I want?”

“Yes.” I whispered against him, and as soon as my mouth opened, he forced his cock inside, slamming all the way to the back of my throat. I gagged harshly, and he used the momentum to shove even further down my throat, cutting off any air supply I had and making me try to jerk back reactively. 

His hand wrapped tightly in my hair. He held me down, face flush against his stomach, as my throat worked to swallow his entire length. 

He moaned above me. “Fuck Y/N, you feel so fucking good gagging against my cock.”

He held me down another few seconds before giving me reprieve, and I gasped in air as he pulled back. 

“You’re such a fucking good girl.” He muttered as his free hand lightly caressed my cheek. I savored the gentle touch for a moment, eyes closed before he pulled away. I had just a second to mourn the loss of his hand before I felt him smack me, just hard enough to surprise me.

I gasped at the contact which gave him another opportunity to force himself down my throat. He continued relentlessly fucking my throat until it felt raw. Tears were streaming down my face and my makeup was far from ruined. His hand remained tight in my hair, causing a soreness to build on my scalp.

After what felt like an eternity, but was likely no more than fifteen minutes, Noah removed his cock from my mouth and his hand from my hair. I took in big mouthfuls of air, luxuriating in being able to take full breaths, in comparison to the small reprieve I had earlier.

I focused on calming my breathing, in through the nose, out through the mouth. Same as always. 

Noah looked down at me hungrily. “Ready for more baby girl?”

“More?” I croaked.

A dark chuckle escaped him as his hands reached for the button on my jeans. “We’re only getting started.”

Getting my jeans down far enough proved to be a very un-sexy task filled with a lot of curses from Noah as he tried to figure out how to maneuver them down. He settled for untying my legs one at a time, and pulling each pant leg off before tying my legs to the bed posts again.

Once he had me repositioned the way he wanted me, he nestled himself in between my legs, looking up at me briefly before clamping his mouth around my clit, his tongue circling it relentlessly. My back arched off the bed and a moan that sounded more like a scream escaped my lips.

“Fuck, Noah.”

He hummed with his mouth still pressed against me, causing my body to convulse at the sensation. It had been far too long, and I was going to come long before he was finished, I just knew it.

As if he had read my mind, Noah slipped a finger in between my lips, teasing at my entrance before plunging first one, and then two fingers deep inside of me.

“Oh, God!” I groaned, feeling the orgasm building low in my abdomen. 

He curled his fingers inside of me, reaching up to the spot that he knew would have me coming undone in seconds. His fingers worked inside of me, and his mouth worked at my clit, guiding me closer and closer to the edge. Not a minute later, my orgasm crashed into me, a scream in the form of Noah’s name leaving my lips.

Noah’s mouth and fingers slowed as he coaxed the last of the spasms out of me, and I came down from the high of my orgasm.

I looked down at him as he withdrew his fingers from inside of me, making eye contact as he licked them clean, which caused another shudder to run through me. 

“Fuck, you taste amazing, princess.” Noah pulled himself up, pushing himself onto all fours and crawling up towards me. His mouth hovered over mine as he whispered. “Would you like a taste?”

I didn’t get to answer before his mouth was on me, and his tongue was dancing with mine. His hand reached down between my legs and his fingers made contact with my sensitive clit, making me groan beneath him.

I felt him smile against my lips. “Sensitive, sweetheart?” I could only whimper in response.

He continued circling my clit lightly as I fought against the restraints,

“Please, Noah.” I couldn’t take it anymore. 

“That’s right, princess. Beg me.” His fingers left my clit, granting me my request. 

I had enough time to sigh in relief before his cock slid deep inside of me. He pushed into me as deep as he could before pausing, a tremor running through his body. “God, you feel so good baby girl.”

My hands itched to run through his hair and I longed to rake my nails down his back.

This was what torture felt like. 

Noah rose up onto his knees, his cock never straying from inside of me and began to fuck me. This wasn’t the awkward sex of our youth, or the passionate lovemaking of our young adulthood. This was raw, fiery fucking. 

The slap of his skin on mine was deafening, nearly drowning out my screams of pleasure. 

“That’s it, Y/N. Take all of me like the good girl I know you are.”

Noah leaned over me and placed his hand over my mouth, “Take a deep breath, love.”

I glanced at him, begging my eyes to come into focus to try and make out what he was asking me to do. I took a deep breath just seconds before his hand inched up to cover my nose along with my mouth. His other hand snaked around my neck and began to squeeze.

He began to pound into me harder, and I tried to gasp against his hand and the pressure on my throat. I felt my lungs begin to burn and my eyes widened in panic. I started to thrash against the restraints, but fuck I was so close to coming. 

Just as I thought my lungs could take no more, my orgasm hit me like a ton of bricks, and Noah removed both of his hands causing the blood to rush back into my head, and giving my orgasm an extra boost that had me screaming his name over and over.

Noah leaned back again, cock thrusting deep inside of me and never losing stride as his thumb started to circle my clit again.

I was so far gone that it was no longer too sensitive to touch, and I was on my way to chasing another orgasm.

Noah could tell I was getting worn out. “Just give me one more, baby. I know you can.”

“Please, Noah.” I didn’t know what I was begging for any more. For him to finish? For more? I couldn’t tell.

His thrusts became harder, faster and his breath came in quick gasps. He was getting close.

“Do you know why your pussy is so wet, Y/N?” He asked me.

It took a few tries and I had to wet my lips with my tongue before I could answer weakly. “Why?”

He was pounding into me harder than he had before, and I could feel my orgasm building, taking me higher and higher.

“Because it’s mine, baby girl.”

That was all it took to send me careening over the edge into oblivion. A myriad of curses left Noah’s lips as he thrust into me, once, twice before stilling as he finished inside me. 

Noah took a few minutes to slow his breathing before he began the work of untying me. He carefully removed each zip tie and the ropes before beginning to massage my wrists and ankles where they were rubbed raw from the abuse. He kissed me lightly before picking me up and carrying me into the bathroom. He finished undressing me before guiding me into the hot shower, steam rising around me. 

He joined me in the shower, and started washing my hair, my body, taking great care around the places that were sore. I had no use of my arms and legs and my body felt disconnected from my mind.

Is this what heaven felt like? I felt so free, so loose. God, I missed this.

Noah turned off the shower, the cold wrapping around me. I sighed. Why did it have to end so soon?

I felt a towel rubbing against my skin as Noah began to dry me off. He grabbed hold of my hand and walked me back to his bedroom after tucking the towel tightly around my body.

“Sit.” He commanded, pointing to his bed.

I immediately obliged and he crawled in behind me, sitting up against my back as he began to brush my hair.

I moaned and leaned into his touch, which caused him to chuckle lightly. “Did I wear you out, my love?” He asked.

“You know you did, you cocky asshole.” This garnered a full belly laugh from him, which vibrated against me. 

Noah put the brush down and buried his face into my neck, his arms wrapping around me, “I missed you so much, Y/N.”

“I missed you too, Noah.”

With a sigh he got up from behind me, going to his dresser to grab one of his t-shirts and a pair of his boxers for me to wear. I swam in his oversized shirts, and I loved it.

He slipped back on his sweats but remained shirtless. 

“We have to get on the road in a few hours.” Noah started. “Should I take you back to where you’re staying?”

I shook my head and smiled. “I have tickets to your next four shows.”

Noah blinked at me, before the biggest smile plastered his face. “You do?” He looked uncertain as he asked. “Maybe you could ride with us then?”

I took a moment to contemplate, “Are you sure that would be okay? I don’t want to intrude.”

“You could never intrude, Y/N. I would love it if you stayed. I want to spend every day with you.” Noah grasped my hands in his. “I want a life with you.”

I stared deeply into his eyes, it was everything I had wanted to hear all those months ago. To save myself from another fit of crying, I just nodded in response. Noah leaned down and kissed each of my fingers, one by one.

“Let me update the guys. Get dressed, make yourself comfortable. Maybe grab a snack from the kitchen and we can watch a scary movie until we fall asleep when I get back?” Noah was already up and heading out the door as he finished his sentence.

It wasn’t thirty minutes later I heard the rest of the boys quietly conversing in the living area, and Noah bidding them a good night before walking towards his room. I was curled up on his bed, a bag of Hot Cheetos on one side, and Watermelon Sour Patch Kids on the other.

“How did that go?” I smiled up at him.

He crawled in bed next to me, laying his head on my lap and moving the bag of Hot Cheetos out of his way. “Better than it could have gone. I told them I’d pay for the damages to the bus, but they were all happy to hear you would be joining us on the tour. At least for a little bit, right?”

“Yeah, you’ve got me for now.” I ran my hands through his hair. “Mind if I put on Halloween?”

I didn’t give him the option of an answer before pressing play. He just snickered and traced his fingers up and down my calf.

By the time we made it halfway through Halloween 2, Noah was on his side next to me and I was laying on his chest. His fingers ran idly up and down my back and I listened to the steady beat of his heart.

Noah’s fingers started slowing and his breathing became steady.

“I love you, Y/N,” He whispered before he drifted off to sleep.

I smiled. “I wish we could stay like this forever, Noah.”

Noah

I was dreaming about her, like I did most nights. These were happier dreams than usual. Her and I were sitting in the grass, mountains behind us and a lake in front of us. It was perfect. Just like her.

I looked over in my dream and she was smiling, laughing, looking more beautiful than I had ever seen another human being look. I placed my hand on her stomach, round with our child, my wedding band glistening in the early morning light. This is what true happiness was. Me, my wife, and our child - our daughter, just about to enter this world where she would be loved and cherished more than any other child had ever been.

This was our happily ever after.

I woke slowly, hesitant to leave my dreamscape, but eager to wake up next to the woman of my dreams. I stretched, feeling my back pop and groaning at the relief it brought me. Shows always made me so sore the next day, and last night’s activities sure didn’t help with that either. My cock twitched in my pants at the thought, and I was excited at the prospect of round two.

I reached over, searching for her with my eyes still closed, but found the bed cold and empty where she should be.

My eyes flew open and I jolted upright, scanning the room. 

Where was she?

Panic filled my veins as my breath came in short gasps, and my lungs felt like they couldn’t get enough air.

Other sounds started to filter in as my pulse quickened, and I heard the shower running. My body relaxed instantly, sagging as a low chuckle escaped me.

Of course she was in the shower. Where else would she be?

I took my time getting out of bed and leaving my room, heading towards the bathroom to join her.

I tried the door, but it was locked. Smart, there were three other men on this bus.

I knocked. “Y/N? Can I come in?”

I heard the shower turn off and wet footsteps make their way across the room before the door opened. 

I smiled as I looked into the eyes of the woman I love, and fixed my mouth to tell her good morning...before realizing it was Folio standing in front of me.

“Uh, Noah?” Folio looked confused. “Y/N is definitely not in here with me, I swear dude.”

My face fell, glancing around him. I almost wished she was in there with him. A pit formed in my stomach and I stumbled back into my room, frantically tearing it apart looking for my phone. As soon as I found it, I dialed her number by heart. I placed the phone to my ear, heart pounding so loud I was afraid I wouldn’t hear when she answered.

“The number you have reached is not in service. If you feel you have reached this message in error, please hang up and try your call again.”

[bangaveragewhitewine]

Pinch Me

After your first date with a familiar face from home, waking up next to Steve feels like something out of a dream. 

or

This is a follow on from Clean Slate but can be read as standalone fic. 

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings/Content: Both you and Steve are in your late-twenties and were in school together; you met again on a blind date almost ten years later. This is an 18+ fic; oral (reader receiving), penetrative sex. Spoiler but use of ‘good girl’ in a sexy content. Steve Harrington being a smooth mf comes with it's own warning.

I have tried to leave physical descriptions as neutral and inclusive as possible! Some mentions of anxiety and insecurity. Plenty of kissing to make up for that! 

Author’s Note: Clean Slate was intended to be a one off fic but here we are! This is my first attempt at smut in a fic, so hopefully it’s not horrendous! Thank you for reading, enjoy!

Thank you to my lovely @specialagentmonkey for beta reading for me💖

Once again, this is an 18+ fic. Please do not do any AI fuckery with my work or repost on other sites.

(divider by me)

Ever since you were little, your bed had been one of your favourite places. Soft sheets, books on the bedside table and a perfectly curated stack of pillows all topped off with the quilt you had made with your grandma before her arthritis got too bad. 

In your mom’s photo albums there was more than one snapshot of you as a sleepy toddler with a wild bed head peeking up from your pillow on Christmas morning. Another few of you reading Nancy Drew in a pillow nest with a gap toothed smile. 

By now, you had made your own little nest out in the big bad world now; a surprisingly roomy studio with big windows and noisy neighbours on one side. You had bought new sheets and a duvet printed with dusty pink roses on porcelain white cotton, curated a new stack of pillows and added too many decorative cushions on top of the same quilt that had made the move with you to Indianapolis and on to Chicago. There were still books on your bedside,  a little dish for your jewellery to sit in while you slept, and an accumulation of lip balms, pillow mist and a candle or two to set the mood. 

After long shifts and bad dates, your bed was still your haven. When you were particularly anxious, you could still hear the shrill of your old alarm blaring in your ears; the sound of that clock that had dragged you from sweet dreams in your beloved bed on chilly winter mornings. Some mornings, as you rode the subway to work, you swore you could hear your bed’s own siren song calling you to get off at the next stop, come home to read and nap the day away. 

The sanctuary was for you alone, save for an occasional sleepover with your best friend Annie. Your dates were never invited to stay and make themselves comfortable. But this morning, waking up with Steve Harrington in your bed? That was new. 

It was safe to say that your blind date went well. Really well. 

You had resolutely avoided talking about school, only mentioning people each other might have remembered in the context of a story about your lives outside Hawkins. Steve was still in touch with a lot of people from home. You recognised some of their names; Robin who grew up a street away from you, Eddie Munson who you knew from art class and the occasional house party in your youth, even Nancy Wheeler. The way he lit up with so much fondness for ‘his kids’ who weren’t kids anymore made your face ache from smiling.

And Steve had listened, wanted to hear how you had liked Indianapolis for college (he had spent some time there too before making the move to Chicago with Robin after Eddie had sussed the place out and found an apartment near his own for them that they still shared). He had asked about your job, your life in the city, and took a real interest in you. 

His attention had stayed on you, never straying to see who else was around or looking for an escape route. His honeyed gaze had stayed focused, watching how you used your hands when you spoke and dipped occasionally to look at your lips. Steve’s hand had stayed close by when his fingers weren’t outright intertwined with yours. He did this thing with his thumb, stroking it across the bone of your wrist, and a few times he had squeezed your hand while you spoke as if to say ‘go on, I’m listening’ - it was so centering for your often anxious mind.

You had a few more drinks, picked a few songs on the jukebox, kept talking and talking until you were sitting close enough to hear Steve’s stomach growl, making his cheeks flush pink. 

“I know a pizza spot close by if you’re hungry?” you suggested. 

“DiFontaines?” Steve smiled a little, nodding at your suggestion. “Yeah I love it. Let’s go.”

Neither of you wanted to end the night yet, say goodbye. So you didn’t. Instead you headed hand in hand into the warm night air, nicely buzzed and in search of hot pizza and crispy cold sodas. 

The sun had dipped in the sky, taking the worst of the heat with it, but the night stayed humid and sticky. Despite the warmth, Steve held your hand and between stories, as you walked down the next block, he lifted his arm to twirl you when you passed a bar blaring Achy Breaky Heart onto the street; Billy Ray’s crooning was eclipsed by your laughter. 

“You’re such a dork,” you giggled, pushing him gently before Steve quickly hugged you against his side again. Never had you felt so comfortable on a first date - but this wasn’t just any blind first date. 

“Dork?! You been talkin’ to Robin?” Steve smiled down at you, sparking heat in your belly. 

“Guess your reputation precedes you, Harrington.” With a burst of bravery, owing it to your younger self, you bounced up on your toes to peck his cheek before taking off a few steps ahead, turning to grin back at him as he jogged to catch up before you swerved into the pizza place. 

You joined the line of late night pizza lovers and Steve had slipped an arm around you, leaned his chin on your head as your heart pounded hard. “So, what’re we getting?” he asked.

The familiarity of it all made you feel fuzzy around the edges, his thumb stroking your shoulder, the heat of him pressed against your side. 

“It’s probably sacrilegious but the New York style slice, veggie or… artichoke.” Feeling brave again you cover his hand with yours and squeezed. “You?”

“Okay so we’re both sinners then.” He hummed, considering his options. “You’re vegetarian right?”

“Yeah, I try to be.” You liked how he had remembered a tiny detail from a story told hours ago.

“Okay. Four cheese then.”

“You sure?” Your interest piqued. 

“Yeah, ‘course. You might not want a goodnight kiss if I have pepperoni breath.”

You swear your jaw dropped as Steve schooled his smile, watching the group of tipsy tourists ahead of you order their slices before his eyes darted back to you. 

Steve was more timid, his voice quieter as he filled the silence between you when you had been too stunned to answer. “It’s also totally fine if you don’t want to kiss me, sweetheart. I know I can lay it on ki-“ 

Instead you rocked up to close the gap between you, ignoring the pinch of your sandals to lay a kiss onto his lips. Steve was quick to cup your cheek, keeping you there to kiss you back just as sweetly. 

His nose has nudged against yours before he let you go, gazing into each other’s eyes until your attention was pulled to ‘order or get out’. His arm had stayed around you as you placed your orders, splitting a third classic deep dish slice between you so you wouldn't be run out of town with torches and pitchforks. 

Full of pizza and soda and bravery, you had taken Steve’s hand again and strolled through the sticky Chicago night, steering him toward your apartment with the guise of proving that the same pink scrunchie you wore in high school was in fact on your bedside table. You both knew what you were really suggesting. 

Part of you niggled away, expecting him to make a polite excuse to head home instead. But Steve only had eyes for you and sealed the deal with another kiss. You lost yourselves in each other, feeling younger together, and made out with Steve’s back against the shutters of somewhere long closed for the night as he squeezed your hips and you toyed with the ends of his hair. It was with regret that he had to tear himself away from your lips to hail a cab for you both, where you did your best to behave on the way to your apartment.

As you lay in bed that next morning, watching how Steve’s chest rose and fell with breath, how soft he looked in sleep, you felt warm and happy. His golden glow was just as dazzling in the morning light.  

Your night together had been unrushed. Steve hadn’t just hit it and quit it with you. No, instead you had kissed and kissed, making out and letting your hands roam like two teenagers except there was no hurry; no seven minute deadline or someone pounding on a guest room door to see if it was occupied. The rumours in school had been true; Steve Harrington was an amazing kisser. You had listened to a friend of a friend rave about his soft lips after a lucky spin the bottle in junior year; now you had tasted him for yourself, you understood why she had brought it up so much. But Steve was in your bed now, not hers, you thought smugly. 

On the way from the couch to your bed, he had unzipped your dress and you made sure his powdery blue shirt wouldn’t be too creased in the morning, draping it over the back of a chair instead of leaving it balled up on the ground. 

Steve had made sure you knew how beautiful he thought you were, kissed you everywhere before taking his time with you and spent an age between your legs as he worked you open for him. Lying there the next morning, you could feel your face heat up when you remembered how his touch set you on fire. The pleasant all over ache weighed you down into your mattress. 

With a messy bed-head, Steve woke a little after you and saw you smiling dreamily to yourself. He reached out to pull you closer, tucking his face into your neck. 

“Mornin’.” His voice was gravelly and deep. 

“Morning.” You brush his hair back gently and dot a kiss to his forehead before stroking your fingers over his shoulders soothingly, dragging them down his arm.  

“S’nice,” he said, lips moving against your neck before he pressed a few kisses there. 

Lying face to face on your pillow, your fingers played with the fine gold chain that settled around his throat, dipping lower into the thick hair on his chest. 

“I had a really good time last night.” Steve’s fingers walk up your arm, before twirling your hair around one carefully. 

When you look up at him, he’s got this little smile on his face. He inches closer, letting his gaze drop to your own smiling mouth before you share a slow morning kiss. 

“Me too,” you whisper, settling your hand on the side of his neck before returning his kiss again. Your fingers skate across and behind the lobe of his ear, the underside of his jaw and the shade of stubble there. 

With his large soft hands, he drags you closer still, pressing you right up against him. The t-shirt you had pulled on after the sweat on your body had started to cool last night was rucked up over your hip as Steve’s thumb strokes the dip there. 

You sigh into his mouth, feeling warm all over despite the chill of your box fan to cool the room down. This morning you're warmed by the heat and glow that radiates from Steve Harrington, hotter than the sun itself. 

“You’re really beautiful,” he murmurs against your lips, shifting his weight so you’re on your back again with one of his thighs slotted between yours. Steve brushes your hair back, fanning it out over the pillow before dipping down to kiss you again. He leaves you breathless before his lips trail lower to your jaw and neck. 

It’s an intimacy you hadn’t had with anyone in a long time, feeling safe enough with Steve to let yourself be loved on like this. You will yourself to be present with him, bask in his glow as it warms you, but barbs of anxiety have crept in to distract you.

Last night was amazing, slow and syrupy and tender. If that had been the last time you ever saw Steve Harrington you could have probably died happy - happier than before anyway. But instead he stayed, and as he kisses you again (morning breath ignored and forgotten). Steve didn’t care that you had faded into the background of your shared high school halls, he had loved how you had the bravery to break out of Hawkins and be you now. 

Steve notices you tensing up and peels himself back, thumbing your cheek again as he says your name. “Do you want me to stop?” he asks, concern in his eyes. It makes your heart ache. 

You shake your head and cover the hand on your cheek. “No. Never.” You pull him to you again and relish the weight of him on top, your hands over his shoulders. “I’m getting in my head. You’re straight out of a dream, Steve. I feel like asking you to pinch me.”

You feel a little embarrassed about being quite so honest with him like this, but he oozes a magnetism and calmness that makes you want to tell him everything. But you don’t want to scare him away, be left waiting for another call that’s not coming, or hear him say ‘that was fun but I’m not looking for anything serious right now’. 

He smiles and leans his weight on one strong arm so he’s not totally crushing you. “I can, if you want. But I promise I’m real. And I’m just some guy.” 

You laugh. “Some guy? Nah Steve, I think you might be some sort of apparition. Or like, a Greek god.” You squeeze his bicep for emphasis. “Definitely dreaming.”

Steve rolls his eyes, playful, and pinches your cheek lightly. “See? Silly.” He presses a kiss to where he pinched before going in for another on your smiling mouth. Steve was not shy or stingy with his kisses, you had learned. You liked that a lot. 

“I think you’re pretty amazing, y’know. If you’re not sick of me yet, would you wanna go for breakfast with me?” Steve kneels up between your thighs, the sheets pooling around his hips. Your eyes go right to the white Calvin’s pulled tight over the thickness of him. Your eyes rake up over his body until you’re caught staring, ogling, and Steve smiles when you pull a pillow over your face. You certainly hadn’t been so shy last night; he laughs and lifts it away to gaze down at you, hoping you will say yes. 

“C’mere. Then you can take me for breakfast.” You coax him back down, hooking one leg over his hip. “Prove to me again that you’re not just in my imagination?”

Steve grins and rolls himself down over you. “You been imagining me like this? Scandalous,” he teases before resuming his kisses from earlier, which you are eager to return. Your bodies move together, hips tilting toward each other seeking out that pressure that makes your tummy sizzle. As Steve’s hands slip under your sized-up sleep shirt again, your own dips down to cup him through his underwear. His breath hitches, eyes fluttering shut. 

“Baby…” 

Baby. 

You smile and repeat the movement firmer this time before beginning to coax him to hardness, breaking your hold on him only to help him remove your tshirt. It’s lost to the floor along with Steve’s briefs. His breath is hot against your mouth as your bodies press together. The feeling of Steve’s hands on your breasts draws out a whine that’s swallowed by another kiss; his hands are so big and they feel like they are everywhere, like Steve is everywhere. His mouth and hands trail lower, spreading you out for him on your dusty rose bedsheets. He cups you there, thumb swiping in a delicious rhythm that has you gasping against his shoulder. 

“I’ve got you,” he whispers, kissing the tops of your breasts. “Let me hear those pretty noises again, baby. Please?” 

You whimper as his fingers ease you open, so gentle like the polite ‘please’. Steve had proven he was a talker already last night, his words making you feel hot all over as he had pushed so carefully inside, turning tipsy giggles into needy gasps. You felt the same heat engulf you now as he lay wet kisses to your tummy, your hips, pausing only so that he could lie comfortably between your thighs after shouldering his way between them. 

He’s looking up at you, his cheek against the meat of your thigh. Lips curve into a smile when you meet his gaze, and he closes his eyes when you stroke his hair back. One of his hands takes yours and rests together on your belly as he dips to kiss you where you need him, humming against you when you gasp his name. 

Your eyes drop closed, fireworks bursting behind them as he makes you feel so good. The once or twice any other man had done this was lacklustre in skill and enthusiasm, which Steve possessed in every cell of his being. When you chance looking at him you spot his hips shifting against the mattress, chasing relief for his own ache which makes you moan louder. His whispered “good girl” sends your eyes rolling back into your skull. 

Steve brings you to your peak quicker than anyone ever had before. Mindful that you might be a little tender from the night before as he presses one long and thick finger inside before a second joins it a few moments later, gentle but with a purpose of making you forget your own name. His shoulder presses firm against your thigh, spreading you wider as his fingers pump steadily, keeping the pace and press against the spot inside you that makes you feel fit to explode. 

You squeeze his arm while your capacity for coherent speech vanishes, focusing only on the swirl and suck of his mouth and the crook and curl of his fingers. It’s so sudden, and you swear you’ve never made a noise so loud as you moan for him, trembling all over. He whispers his praise against your thigh before bringing his mouth back to where you’re weeping for him and doesn’t stop until your thighs are crushing his ears, muffling your voice. 

Chest heaving, you feel him move up to check on you. He brings you close, holding you as you glow with him and presses feathery kisses to your hairline. “You still with me? Not still dreaming about me?” 

“Mm, think I died,” you manage, peeking up at him with teary eyes. Another tender kiss to the dopey smile on your lips. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me, sweetheart.” 

His grin is deservedly cocky, earning himself the warm grasp of your hand around his length. The prettiest frown graces his face as you squeeze and slowly pump your hand, your lips moving to his neck. 

Steve’s gaze moves from your face, dragging down your body to where your hand holds him. His size makes your hand look small and you feel the kick of his arousal on your palm. You manage to swing one wobbly leg over him, sitting on the breadth of his thighs with new confidence as he holds you steady. 

You lean across him, earning kisses to your chest as you fish for a condom to rip open and roll on to him before lowering yourself down into his lap. 

Sinking your teeth into the fat of your lower lip at the stretch of him, Steve huffs out a breathy swear against your chest. His hands settle on your hip and thigh, grounding and never rushing as you breathe into the feeling of him inside you before beginning to move. 

“Fuck,” he murmurs, watching you in awe. “So pretty f’me.”

That spurs you on, chasing the tingle deep in your abdomen. Your fingers lace with Steve’s on your thigh, the other hand braced against the wall behind his shoulder. 

His head leans back by your hand, turning to kiss your wrist as you move in his lap. You curl your arm around him, bringing each other close as his hips hitch up to meet you. 

“So good, baby,” he murmurs, kissing you again as his breath comes quicker now. “You’re so fuckin’ pretty.”

Gasping his name, you hold him tight to you as you move together. He can’t take his eyes off of you, “Good girl, so gorgeous.” 

Messy kisses broken by gasps and Steve’s praise are traded back and forth. His hands feel huge where they hold you at your waist. 

The cord of pleasure deep in your pelvis winds tighter. Steve’s jaw twitches as he holds on to you, and you kiss the tense muscle before whispering, “You make me feel so good.” The sound he makes is almost a whimper and he squeezes the meat of your ass. Your hips continue their rise and roll, you feel like every cell of your body is aflame. 

Steve watches you, praising words fanning the fire low in your belly. The burn in your thighs makes you pause and he takes the chance to kiss you stupid again. 

“Feel good? Yeah?” When you nod, feeling spaced out, he pecks your swollen lips and whispers, “Let me take care of you, sweetheart.” You wonder if he lets anyone take care of him, return his generosity and affections. 

He is so gentle as he holds you to his chest and slouches lower on the bed. You close your eyes at the feeling of being held like this, cheek to his broad shoulder. His feet are flat and firm on the bed and the experimental thrust up into you makes you sigh his name. Steve sweeps your hair to one side so that he can kiss your neck again, checking in with you before continuing. 

His name echoes on your bedroom walls as he grazes the elusive spot inside of you; the way you press right against his pelvis gives a rub of friction that makes lightning zing through your limbs. “That’s it. Huh? Right there?” His voice is tight as he drives up into you again, faster now with the new angle. 

You can hardly summon the sense to make a sentence, babbling now with how good he’s making you feel, the occasional broken curse or plea. After last night and this morning, the neighbours won’t be happy or forget Steve’s name anytime soon - not that you give a fuck. 

You kiss him again, though now you’re both so far gone it’s messy and needy, hot breaths against each other’s cheeks. The lick of his tongue against yours makes you shiver. You feel ready to burst, pleasure building as his hips drive up hard into you

With the feeling of him so deep inside of you, you fall over the edge again. The feeling of your orgasm, clenching and fluttering and soaking, drags him with you, groaning against your neck when his hips slam and stutter still. His arms are tight around you, both heaving deep breaths together. 

Steve eases you both down onto your sides, tangled together. You feel dazed and heavy but the stroke of Steve’s fingers on your hip, his hot breath on your collarbone grounds you until the sounds of Chicago on a Saturday morning remind you that this wasn’t a dream. 

“You okay? That.. Jesus…” Steve’s voice is breathy, but you hear his smile. 

“Yeah. I’m…amazing.”

“Yeah, you are.” 

There’s comfortable silence as you both come back to earth. 

After a few moments Steve dots kisses to your cheeks, forehead and nose before he eases out of you to bin the full condom. Soon you’re back in bed with him, held safe in his arms. His cheeks are pink and you want to squeeze them. 

“You’re so gorgeous, Steve.” Your fingers brush over the moles dotted along his cheekbone, and he catches your hand to kiss your fingers sweetly in distraction. “Hey. Look at me, Harrington.”

“Back to Harrington?” he teases, looking into your eyes with faux intensity to make you giggle. “M’lookin’.”

“Steve. Steven.” You match his teasing with pretend-seriousness.

“Not Steven. Please, baby.” His mouth turns down, exaggerating his unhappiness with you, but the stroke of his fingers on your hip say otherwise.

“Ms O’Donnell called you Steven.”

“Please don’t bring O’Donnell up while my dick is still out.”

You both dissolve into giggles, pressing your face against the chain on his chest. “Shut up, she had that much of an effect on you?! Calling you Steven gets you all worked up? Okay perv, good to know.”

“You’re sick in the head.” His voice is shaky with laughter against your hair. “S’a good thing you’re cute.”

“Mhm. Definitely a sicko. Two cute sickos.” You take his face in your hands again. “You’re a great date Steve Harrington.”

He smiles, but it falls a little - you just about catch it. It makes your heart hurt. Your inability to just say that you don’t want this to be a one time thing makes you want to pull your own hair out. 

“I do my best. I had so much fun with you. I’m just kinda… sick of first dates though. Yknow?” 

“I do know. But that’s not how last night felt.” 

There’s a flash of recognition in his eyes as he nods. 

“Definitely helped that we had a bit of a head start on the ‘where are you from?’ shit..” There’s a twinkle of playfulness in his heart wrenching sincerity. 

“I hate that part.” You look into his eyes. It makes your chest flutter, how he looks at you.

“I know we didn’t know each other all that well in school..”

“Since kindergarten.” Your shrug is tiny, you smile playfully as he groans. 

“Since kindergarten. Shit. What’ve I been doing all this time…” he asks the ceiling.

“Same as me. Getting out of Hawkins. Going on crappy dates...” 

“Mm, true. Growing up, I guess.” He’s quiet for a moment, “Last night wasn’t crappy. Best date I’ve been on in a long long time.”

“Me too. I think I’ll let you take me out again, if you want to…” you say, whispering bravely as you act all playful despite your hammering heart. 

The smile on Steve’s face makes the butterflies in your stomach swoop again. You weren’t the only one who felt so dimmed by dating around, having your heart broken. There’s a beat of silence, charged electric as Steve looks at your lips and you touch his chain again. 

“You like pancakes, or waffles?” Steve’s eyes twinkle. 

You squeeze the bulk of his bicep. “French toast.”

His head tips back in laugh, showing off his delicious throat. “Oh she’s fancy?”

“She is.” 

He leans in to kiss you in more time. “I can do fancy, baby.” 

“You’ve done fancy twice. Fancy is hungry, Steve.”

Your laughter echoes in the golden morning light that fills your room as his fingers skate over your ribs, finding the ticklish spots before he hauls you as close as possible again. 

Steve’s nose presses against your cheek, smooching one more kiss there before sitting up to find his pants. As you stargaze at the constellation on his broad back, you think this might just be the start of something really amazing.

comments, reblogs and likes are not simply appreciated - they are cherished

[starks-hero]

Oh, Little Horned One of the Old Oak Tree

Pairing: Steven Grant x Reader

Summary: Becoming the avatar of an ancient Celtic god came with some unforeseen side affects; side affects which you are yet to tell Steven about.

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: language, slight body horror if you squint, Steven is a ridiculously supportive boyfriend in the face of fuckery and we love him for it

a/n: giving the reader a supportive god/avatar relationship because it's what they deserve

It's not that you hadn't tried to clean the blood, you'd done your best. But it stained the tips of your fingers and left the porcelain tiles of the bathroom a dark red.

You weren't entirely sure where it had all come from, but the damp, matted hair surrounding where the antlers had sprouted from your head served as a good indicator.

It shouldn't be happening, not yet. You had at least another fortnight till the next eclipse, (if your notes were anything to go by.) But you knew the moment your muscles began to ache and your bones began to creak that it was indeed happening, and it wasn't going to stop regardless of how upset it made you.

You'd tried to call Jake. Then Marc. But you didn't want to risk Steven answering the phone.

The bathroom was the closest refuge you could find and as it would seem it was far from the most ideal of places. You'd torn down the shower curtain in your haste to hide and all but shattered the delicate tiles beneath your feet.

The mirror had also fallen victim to your havoc, an almost artistically applaudable webbed crack spreading out from the centre of the glass where your elbow had made contact. A handful of rouge shards littered the floor and made quick work of slicing open your palm.

You glared at the offending piece of glass before picking it out of your hand and throwing it across the room with enough force that it was embedded in the opposite wall like a well-aimed dart.

You could still make out your reflection through the broken glass pane. Antlers sprouting from the crown of your head, winding off in all different directions. There was a pale glow to your eyes and ruins and ancient symbols wrapped around your arms and the expanse of your chest. And if your abundance of new features hadn't already qualified you for your own Magic: The Gathering card, you'd also doubled in height.

This would be a fucking delight to explain.

You took a moment to thank the gods for Stevens's late shift at the museum before steadying yourself with a deep breath.

You'd felt every bit of it; the stretching, twisting and growing of entirely new bones. And if the persistent pain in your chest and spine was anything to go by you figured it was far from over.

You could hear the deep, resonant voice of your deity, distant and far off, like rushing water over rock. His words were gruff and shaped by his accent as he apologized profusely; and as ego-boosting as it was having an eldritch being admit defeat and practically beg for your forgiveness, you found yourself in too much pain to truly enjoy the moment.

“Cernunnos,” you cursed the god's name.

Your legs were still crammed uncomfortably against your chest and the bathroom door whilst your antlers continued to do a glorious job of scrapping the paint job off the ceiling.

Another wave of pain hit, burning through your veins and seizing hold of your lungs. You coughed and spluttered, each attempt at a breath snagging in your throat like leaves catching on dead branches. The horrid sensation of shifting bones hit your chest and you doubled over with a hiss.

“Please make it stop.”

“I'm sorry, fia beag,” (little deer) the god said, his reflection appearing in the mirror shards. His antlers filled out the frame, putting your own to shame and his eyes, (despite, like the rest of his body, being those of a stag, which as far as species go aren't the most emotionally expressive–) were almost apologetic. “I've tried my best, I asked Manannan to reverse the tides to change the lunar phase and buy us time but it's too late.”

It was heartwarming really; how Cernnunos cared so much, enough to ask a fellow god to inconvenience the entire ocean all in the name of saving your love life. You were glad to have him, even if he was the reason you were going through pain worse than fucking childbirth.

“I'm sorry.” The god's ears flattened against his head and you wondered if you'd said the last part aloud.

“What's the point of all this again?” You'd shifted before but it was never irregular and never this bad.

“A thousand years ago my worshipers adored when my avatar arrived at Imbolc in this form!” Cernnunos sounded excited.

“So it was to show off?”

“To make the people feel seen and protected,” he countered.

“And it's something I have to go through because–?”

The god was quiet for a moment. “Old habits die hard?”

Cernnunos had off-handedly mentioned (downright bragged) about the pact he'd made with the moon sometime before the construction of Newgrange. That his avatar would be gifted with a godly form the night of each lunar eclipse. You weren't well versed in ancient deals between eldritch beings but apparently, it's not the kind of agreement you can back out of a millennia down the line.

And apparently, another moon-related god had initiated an eclipse two weeks ahead of schedule. (your money was on Khonshu over Artemis.)

“It will be alright, little one,” Cernnunos promised. It was soothing having him near, but he tended to have that effect. With him, you were like a fawn, comforted by the knowledge that it was protected by its elder. “Besides, it's not as though this night could get much worse for us.”

Almost comedically, the struggle of key in lock sounded and then the front door opened.

You and the god stared at each other, quite literally, like deers in headlights.

“Love? I'm home–”

Steven's voice sent your flight, fight, freeze response to full throttle and you beckoned for Cernnunos to leave as quietly and frantically as you could. The god seemed reluctant, but another chorus of a British accent from the other side of the door and he relented.

The glass rippled like water on a lake and then he was gone.

You could hear Steven moving around the flat, carrying out his usual routine of removing his name tag, unbuttoning his over shirt and tossing his bag on the couch.

You held your breath when the floorboards of the bedroom creaked and silently prayed he'd just call it a night in favour of finding you hiding in the bathroom looking like something straight from Pans Labyrinth. When he called out for you again you sent your head back against the wall with enough force to crack the tiles.

“Love, you alright?” There was three gentle raps on the door. “Darling?”

“I'm fine,” the words were unsteady. And had your voice gotten deeper?

There was a beat of silence outside the door then, “You don't sound fine.”

“I'm just not feeling great,” you managed. Just go, Steven. Please just go.

“Oh, darling, are you sick? Here let me–” The terrifying sight of the door handle turning caused your heart to almost hammer out of your chest. You rushed to press your foot against it and watched in horror as the timber split right down the middle. The door was barely clinging to the hinges.

You could hear Steven's shock on the other side of the door, a string of curses followed suit. “Y/N–”

“Just leave it, Steven!” you bit out. You hadn't meant for the words to sound so animalistic, so angry. But the only thing currently preventing your life from crumbling was a splintering door and your refusal to move your foot. You were allowed to be rash, you thought.

“Alright, you're scaring me now–”

The universe really wasn't letting up with its ironies today.

The wooden door panels creaked and splintered as Steven tried to open it from the outside. You kept your foot firmly pressed to the middle, but as the hinges began to groan you felt the sturdiness give way. It felt like you had your foot against a wet piece of tissue paper; you were going to tear right through it.

With one more shove from Steven's side, you were forced to surrender.

The door swung open with truly theatrical measure and Steven stumbled in behind it. Instinctually, you pushed yourself against the back wall, forgetting your new height and putting your head through the ceiling as you did.

Chaos is too kind of a word for what followed.

The sound that left Steven fell somewhere between a startled shout and a scream of genuine terror. You reached out and Steven fired back, his feet tying themselves in knots and sending him to the floor.

You struggled to pull your head out of the crater you'd left in the roof. A fine layer of debris and dust covered you and somewhat important-looking wires were strung across your antlers like poorly hung Christmas lights.

Almost on cue, the bathroom light flickered twice and came away from the ceiling, ending up in several pieces on the floor.

The dark apparently did nothing in making you look less menacing as Steven continued to voice his fears. And loudly at that. He hadn't moved, still frozen to the spot just outside the door.

“Steven, please–” you crawled forward at a snail's pace, each movement purposely slow.

He watched you with frantic eyes, his heart hammering like a rabbit against his chest. You'd never seen him so scared.

As he clambered to his feet, you dared to inch closer, but it was the opinion of the shattered tiles beneath your feet that you weren't moving nearly fast enough. You slipped on the porcelain shards and were all but thrown in Steven's direction.

Your rack broke your fall by all but embedding the tips of each spike in the wall surrounding the door frame. You'd put your head through so much wood and plaster in the past few minutes you were beginning to sympathize with mounted deer heads.

Steven was staring now, expression boarding on mild fear and absolute confusion. Then, his eyes flicked to the broken mirror behind you, and then his reflection in the window to his right.

Marc and Jake had taken their sweet time.

Steven looked between you, the mirror and the window and then back at you. Then it visibly clicked.

“Oh, oh my gods, Y/N you, you're-” he swallowed. “-what's happening?”

“It's my time of the month.” The joke went down like a led balloon. Steven swayed on his feet.

“Steven, are you alright?”

“Yeah, sort of. No, not really.”

You craned your neck as far as your current predicament would allow for. “Are you going to pass out?”

“Maybe.”

“Okay,” you said the word beneath your breath. He hadn't run which, all things considered, meant this was going fairly well. Even from the awkward angle you were stuck in you could feel his eyes on you, shifting from one monstrous feature to the next, lingering on the markings and the fucking antlers and the–

“Love, you have blood– you're bleeding.” And just like that, a flip switched in Steven's mind at the sight of you wounded. This man was a true enigma and a wonderful one at that. “Here–”

He approached and then almost immediately hesitated, bouncing back on his heel the moment you shifted.

You weren't exactly a threatening sight, shoulders wedged in the door frame, covered in dust and splintered wood and head practically pinned to the wall. You looked like a drunk stag that had lost a fight to a tree.

Steven shook himself and stepped close enough that your laboured breaths ruffled his curls. He was doing an admirable job of hiding the fact that he was shaking.

“Alright, bloody hell um–” He regarded the situation and then nodded. “I'll push, you pull.”

Steven braced his hands against your shoulders and you grabbed hold of the door frame. It's not that you needed the extra help; out of all the things you'd conquered whilst serving as an avatar freeing yourself from a plaster wall ranked fairly low on that list.

But Steven was touching you in this form, his palms pressed to your broadened shoulders and you weren't about to jinx it.

The wall cracked and fissured as you freed yourself, several deep punctures left where your antlers had been. You twisted and manoeuvred your way out of the bathroom until you could straighten up to your full height.

Thank god Steven lived on the top floor. Higher ceilings.

“Okay, woah–” Steven took several steps back as you stood. You towered over him, antlers bleeding into darkened shadows against the ceiling. Okay, now 'intimidating' might be a more fitting word.

You lowered yourself to your knees in an attempt to seem less frightening. Now that you were eye to eye, Steven could see the worry in your expression as you regarded him softly.

“It's alright. I'm adjusting,” he said, voice still trembling. “Just need a quick adjustment period...”

You gave him time and let him lead.

And that's how you ended up in the kitchen, legs crossed as you sat on the floor whilst Steven sat on the counter in front of you. He held a wet flannel in his hand, droplets of water creeping down his arm.

A dry cloth sat folded on the counter beside him, as well as a box of plasters with 'good job!' written across each one.

It was as if his rationality was being overridden by his need to care for you as well as his overall steveness.

Steven dabbed the crown of your head gently, his hands shaking as he did. There was still a dull ache where the antlers had sprouted. Steven rung out the flannel over the sink and the sight of the blood running through his fingers and over his knuckles made you feel ill. His hands were always so soft, they weren't meant to be stained with blood.

You blinked as a small trail of blood seeped from your head and trailed down between your brows. Steven diligently stopped the flow with the cloth and cleaned you up. Your nose twitched at the dampness of the cloth and Steven smiled.

The first smile you'd seen all night.

His actions slowed, hand stilling as he watched you. Beneath the pale glow of your eyes there was something so familiar. He smiled again.

“Hiya love,” the words were so soft they made you feel warm.

“Hi.”

You raised your arms, the markings and symbols on your skin catching in the dim light. Your hands circled Steven's wrists gently. He pulled back and for a terrifying moment you thought he'd gone completely; deciding that he'd had enough, that you were too much like this and he was drawing the boundary line here.

Instead, he dropped the blood-stained flannel in the sink basin and held his hand back against yours, palms pressed together. It was an adorable comparison. The tips of his fingers barely brushed the top of your palm, in fact, you were certain you could close your hand over the entirety of his own. There was a moment shared in comfortable silence then Steven asked, “Y/N, what is going on?”

The question was gentle and filled with wonder. There was still a trace of a smile on his lips. It made you feel like you could finally tell him.

“Avatar stuff. I suppose my god is a little more... flamboyant than yours.”

Steven laughed and the sound comes as a relief. “Khonshu didn't want to give me the time of day, let alone a– a bloody godly alter ego.”

A beat of silence.

“Did it hurt?”

It was heartwarming that that was his next question.

“A little,” you answered somewhat honestly. “But I'm alright now.”

He finished cleaning you up in a peaceful silence. He took the time to wash the blood from your hair as best he could and plaster your injured hand, (for the emotional boost more than anything.) It took several plasters to cover the expanse of the wound, each overlapping so the supportive catchphrase now read 'good good job good.'

He sat in front of you now, having spent the last few minutes tracing the spirals and patterns on your arm. His earlier fear had completely given way to wonder; it wasn't easy to forget that the man was a mythology nerd through and through.

A boyish laugh crept past his lips. “I wonder how Marc and Jake will react.” He looked up at you to gouge a reaction and his smile fell slightly. “Oh.”

“Steven–” you scratched the back of your neck. This was going to be a bitch to explain. “-Jake only knows because... well–” you made a vague motion with your hands that the four of you had come to recognize meant 'Jake.'

Steven nodded in understanding.

“And Marc just sort of found out by accident.”

Steven nodded again and you could visibly see the process going on behind his eyes.

“And um– why didn't any of you tell me?” His voice adopted a higher pitch at the end of the question, likely in an attempt to take the edge off.

You took a sudden interest in the floorboards. “I didn't want to– you know.”

It was quiet for a moment. Then Steven gasped.

“Oh, oh love, you didn't think... you didn't think I'd be scared did you?”

A quick exhale of amusement from you. “You seemed fairly scared.”

“I- well yeah, yeah.” He conceded. “But not of you. Never of you.” His hands found yours again, the staggering difference in size almost humorous. “I just wish you could have felt like you could have told me, that's all.”

A warmth settled in the centre of your chest and you felt the corner of your eyes dampen. Any attempt of yours to not cry was immediately foiled as he inched closer and put his arms around your neck. His knees buckled against your crossed legs and he sank against your chest.

“For what it's worth,” you smiled against the crown of his head. “I think your reaction probably ranks highest out of the three.”

“Yeah?” He asked lightly. His curls tickled the end of your nose.

“Yeah. Jake used some pretty colourful language, most of it was in Spanish. And Marc pulled a gun on me–”

“He pulled a gun on you–?!” With the exclamation, Steven shot back to look at you.

“Like I said, you take first place.”

“Well, the bar wasn't set awfully bloody high was it?” He glared at his reflection in the kettle and you smirked, closing your arms around him and caging him to your chest. There was something so soothing, so primally comforting about being able to hold him, hold all of him, like this.

You nuzzled against his chocolate curls and to anyone on the outside looking in the action would have looked downright primal. Animalistic. But it couldn't have felt more intimate.

“I could get used to this, I think.” Steven's words were barely above a breath. “You're just a big teddy bear, really. More of you to love.”

His hands slowly and deliberately retraced your shoulder, then your neck, down the expanse of your chest... “What do the patterns mean?”

“Some of the symbols stand for attributes or characteristics; strength, courage, loyalty,” you regarded your arm, from your bicep down to your wrist. “Some of them are his symbols, some he added when I agreed to be his avatar and others, I've never really taken the time to find out–”

Steven hummed, not in a dismissive sense, rather in a way that showed he'd listened to each word like the gospel.

“I've got a book on ruins and ancient symbols, only bought the thing for the hieroglyphics really but maybe we could have a look? Do some homework?” A playful nudge accompanied the last question and you caved. As if you stood much of a chance to begin with.

That's how you ended up laying on the bed, (well, mostly on the bed. Your back was against the headboard and your legs still hung over the edge. Steven straddled your middle, an open book and notepad to his right, a highlighter between his teeth and a marker in his hand. His glasses sat on the bridge of his nose and his brows furrowed as he traced his thumb over a symbol just beneath your collarbone.

You shivered despite yourself.

He'd mapped everything out, using the marker to gently draw on your skin, making connections and jotting down notes. It was like watching a scholar at work and you were honoured to be his study.

“Sorry about the bathroom,” you said rather out of the blue.

Steven glanced up at you, rebellious curls falling against his brow. His confusion melted into gentle amusement. “Don't worry about it, love. Needed redoing anyways, I reckon.”

Then, as if it were the most mundane thing in the world, he went back to his translations.

In a form that most could only phantom in the darkest corners of their imagination and with a god willing to bend the seas and skies at your will, Steven Grant somehow remained among both the most curious and most cherished things you had.

Key ➳

Cernnunos - Celtic god of wild things, fertility and animals

Manannan - (Manannan Mac Lir) Celtic god of the sea

Imbolc - the Celtic festival that marks the halfway point between the winter solstice and the spring equinox. It celebrates the return of life and light as it is the time when the ewes come into milk, when the first flowers appear and when the day noticeably lengthens.

Newgrange - famous 5,200 year old passage tomb in Co Meath, Ireland

‘fia beag’ - gaeilge for ‘little deer’

thank you for reading!

tag list: @bakerstreethound @yoditopascal @moonlighy @linkpk88 @spideysimpossiblegirl @noahspector @malaanii @ineedmorejakelockley @drmeowingfangirl @loonymagizoologist @othersideoftheparadise @doozywoozy @mywellspringoflife

[mothiir]

sorry to be that rehash that droid de suggondeez plotline (I REFUSE TO CORRECTLY SPELL FRENCH) with big e stealing a wife but could we pretttty ppLEAAAASE get some more mothiir? i am obsessed with the eldritch inhuman but human behaviour you write him with. it makes me want to chew on him while simultaneously wanting to beat him with a brick out of hatred. i have so many ideas. but ill take anything you offer up fr ill live off the scraps like a feral dog, its just that the the whole david and goliath vibe is TASTYYYY. please dignify my complete insanity for just an intsy winsy second because all i can imagine is how utterly FUCKED the stolenwife!reader's pov is. you try fight back a little too much? oh haha, ur so cute, but keep biting or scratching him and he'll sicc one of the custodes (or a few) to really try you out. let you be so overstimulated youre begging for something in you, and oh boy big e'll sooo do that dont worry. or maybe humble you by keeping you basically half bare like yeah not so cocky now LMFAO IM SO SORRY I NEVER GIVE PROMPTS SO BRAZENLY LIKE THIS BC IM A COWARD FULL OF SHAMEEE UR SO MUCH BRAVER THAN MEEE (thank you sm if you do or dont run with anything i spat out just then)

first of all, never apologise for requesting stuff and also i totally respect your disrespect of the French language. as an englishwoman i am contractually obligated to hate those frog-eating bastards (disclaimer: this is satire pls don’t cancel me). secondly i absolutely love your description of my interpretation of big e because it is also exactly how i feel about him. beat him with brick, pat hair, back to brick. I know i have moved away from that content but I still wave my emperor fucker flag and am always taking requests for him

i promise there will be actual coherent fic soon, but for now here is a bullet pointed list of the sort of things that guilliwife experiences (if there is one in particular you want a full fix of let me know):

the Emperor steals you, and does not think to tell Guilliman — why would he? He fucks you, enjoys it tremendously, then has to go and do some important Master of Mankind warp fuckery that means you spend about a fortnight in some random rooms with no one to talk to but the Custodes. And they barely talk! You never work out if they are bodyguards or prison guards, since you can’t imagine that you are important enough to warrant guarding, but you also don’t think that there is much effort needed to stop you escaping. Where would you even go?

It would be so much easier if he was always a selfish monster in bed — but he isn’t. Worse: he eats pussy exactly how you think a man with millennia of practice would. He likes bringing you to the very edge of orgasm and just stopping, pillowing his cheek on your stomach and watching as you whine and cry, partly with guilt and partly with sheer frustration. You end up begging him to fuck you, stumbling out every title you can think of — lord, emperor, sire, master — but his patience is limitless, and he can keep going for hours, until you’re completely insensible, promising every depraved thing if he will just stop teasing and put it in you

You belong to him. No one else is allowed to touch you — apart from valdor, one of his oldest friends and dearest allies. And captain Kytan. And a few other custodes. Sometimes at the same time. They’re extensions of his most absolutely not divine will — they can partake in the same luxuries he allows himself, otherwise what kind of a leader would he be? He likes seeing his best soldiers happy, especially when it’s because valdor is balls deep in your arse, while he enjoys the sweet warm stretch of your throat. You jostle and whimper between them, so full that you can barely breathe, and afterwards the emperor watches as valdor thumbs open your cheeks, just to watch your holes struggle to close up around the shape of his cock. Still, valdor can’t linger too long - there is already a line

He will cum inside you so much you swear your stomach bulges a little from it all. You have nightmares about popping like a balloon

eventually word reaches the Emperor that Guilliman is looking to speak to him as a matter of urgency — he is currently buried deep in your throat, enjoying the cute little gluck-gluck-gluck noises your gag reflex makes as you try to fit him all the way into your tight gullet. He does not ask you to stop this before answering the vox from a distraught Roboute, who is blathering about his fiancée going missing? The Emperor chuckles a little to himself, patting your hair — ah, having a woman to be wed and a woman in his bed, Roboute is far more like his father than first thought — wait. Ah. Singular woman. Singular. Shit.

[x-bluefire-heart-x]

You're Drunk

Alrighty this chapter of Dating App pretty much wrote itself! I really enjoyed writing it so I hope you all enjoy reading it. There is a several week timeskip and this is also where the timeline fuckery happens. Pease ignore everything about why Carisi is around so early cause I kinda of forgot that I wanted to rewrite some scenes from the earlier seasons before Carisi is in it, but like...I love Carisi and I have other plans so.....Timey Whimey wibbley wobbley stuff begins.

Also pretty sure this is my longest chapter think it is like 6000 words.

Let me know if there is anything in particular you would like to see in this series. Like an episode of the show with her put in it or just something random. Also let me know if you want to be added to the tag list for this.

Warnings: Drinking, talk of sex, sexual implications, teasing, drunk conversations. I think that is it, if I missed something let me know.

Master List

Prompt List

Chapter List: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 9, 10

Tag list: @pear-1206

“That is the fourth time you have checked your phone in the past two hours,” Lily pouted as she placed drinks on the table, Shannon and Courtney trailing behind her each carrying a cocktail and a shot. The four of you had made plans to go out for drinks the next time your schedules all aligned. Shannon and Courtney desperately wanted all the details on you and Rafael. The last time you able to catch up it hadn’t been the time to discuss such details. You friends were gossips but they thankfully understood that there was a time and place for such conversations, like drinking at a bar.

“I know, I’m sorry,” you quickly shoved your phone back into your pocket. “Rafael had a tough day in court, Liv said the team was taking him out for drinks since we already had these plans.”

“Aw, and you’re worried about him,” Shannon cooed, she was a little further gone than the rest of the group, she was smaller and had a lower tolerance. “When do we get to meet him?”  

“Soon, I promise,” you smiled. “I just-”

“Wanna keep all that deliciousness for yourself?” Courtney asked wiggling her eyebrows.

“Did she tell you two about how he got on his knees to take off her shoes?” Lily grinned. The other two both gasped, nearly shouting no as they turned to you expectantly.

“Lily!” you groaned, giggling a little. You were going to tell them. Just after a few more drinks.

“Take your shot and tell us!” Shannon bounced. “Come on.” You all picked up the mystery shot Lily had brought over, you thought it would be best to never know what was in the things she brought. A little like the cocktails Lily made when you all last got drunk together and you ended up downloading the dating app. You shook your head and knocked back the shot coughing a little when the strong burst of alcohol hit your throat.

“Alright, geeze,” you nodded, sipping your cocktail. The other three leaned in close, even Lily who you had told before, there were benefits to working with your best friend. You kept the details limited, not telling them everything but you painted the scene perfectly. You all finished your drinks and ordered another during the time it took for you to fill in your friends on not only your first time but near about everything that happened since.

“Damn girl!” Shannon sighed, pushing her long red hair over a shoulder. “You lucked out with this man. I don’t think my first time ended in spectacular orgasms.”

“I mean, mine did but that was just because I was with a woman for my first time,” Courtney grinned. “And when I finally slept with a man, I was assertive in what pleased me but still wasn’t great.”

“Yeah, it took maybe my third boyfriend before I started being able to orgasm with a man,” Lily agreed.

“Oh,” you tilted your head biting your lip. “I’m never letting him go then. I mean orgasms are great by myself but with Rafi, they’re something else.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Shannon playfully shoved you. “Keep bragging.”

“As if you three can talk,” you wagged your finger at them. “I had to hear all about your sexual exploits. I’m totally bragging about how he made me orgasms several times before he fucked me.”

The four of you burst into a fit of giggles before you all cheered and took another round of shots and moved onto other topics of conversation throughout the night. It had been a few hours since the night started, more rounds of shots had happened and bowls of fries, pizzas and other table snacks had been consumed to at least attempt to soak up some of the drinks. Your phone buzzed against the table, the screen lighting up with a picture of Rafael that you had taken when he wasn’t looking. His contact’s name visible for the world to see ‘Sexy Lawyer’, you hadn’t changed it since he put his number in it.

“Ooh, it’s mister magical fingers!” Courtney oohed as you picked it up.

“Hush,” you waved for your friends to be silent. “Hey babe.”

“…Chica,” Rafael sounded a little confused before he chuckled a little. “Are you still with your friends?”

“Ask him if he has any single friends that are as good in bed as he is,” Shannon tugged on your arm.

“Shh!” Lily whispered. “You’ll make her turn on her librarian voice. It’s scary.”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Rafael’s amused voice called your attention again.

“Yep, are you? Ooh!” your attention taken again. “Is Liv there? And Amanda? Do they wanna come and join us girls?”

“No invite for me? I see how it is,” Rafael feigned offense.

“We’re having girl talk and a girl’s night,” you waved your hand around. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“Oh Chica,” Rafael’s soothing voice cooed through the phone at you. “You’re drunk, aren’t you?”

“Duh, we’ve been drinking for…a few hours by now,” you rolled your eyes.

“Wait, the whole team can come!” Lily interrupted. “That way you can meet the rest of his friends, we can meet him and his friends. Win-win.”

“Ooh yes!” Shannon agreed, with Courtney nodding beside her. You could hear Rafael chuckling in the background, it was slightly muffled and you could hear other voices, one that sounded a little like Liv.

“Rafi,” you whined, pouting a little when he didn’t respond straight away. “Rafi…are you coming?” You forgot you hadn’t actually asked if he and the team wanted to join you and your friends but after Lily’s suggestion it sounded perfect and all you wanted was to cuddle with Rafael. Your friends sniggered, taking your words in a much different context to what you had meant them to be.  

“Now I’m invited, am I?” Rafael’s voice finally answered you. “I don’t know, you didn’t seem keen at first.”

“Rafi, don’t tease,” you continued to pout. “Will you please come and join us? Liv and the team as well?”

“Ask nicely, Chica,” Rafael was enjoying this far too much. He didn’t realise that when you were drunk you had very little filter.

“Oh please, please, Rafi,” you lowered your voice only slightly, your tone slipping into the tone you used when begging Rafael to let you cum. “Please come and join me. I miss you. I need you. To be here. With me, with your arms wrapped around me.”

Your three friends stared at you, mouths open and eyes wide in shock. They had never heard you speak with such a tone before or say such things before, especially in public.

“Baby,” Rafael groaned. “You can not speak to me like that when I am near my friends.”

“But you said to ask nicely,” you pointed out. “I’ll keep doing it unless you say you’re all coming.” There was some commotion on his side of the phone before you could hear him speaking in Spanish.

“Hey, it’s Liv,” Liv’s voice replaced the Spanish, her tone definitely amused.

“Liv!” you cheered perking right up at the sound of her voice. In the several weeks since you had meet her, the two of you had met up for coffee and Liv had been over for dinner a few more times when schedules aligned. During this time the two of you had bonded quickly, and you really enjoyed being around the older woman.

“We’re all heading your way, you’re still at the same bar?” Liv assured you. “And thank you for giving me so much more material for teasing Rafa with.”

“Yep, we haven’t moved except to get more drinks,” you assured her. “And you are most welcome.”

You both ended the call, well, you’re pretty sure Rafael wanted to speak to you more but Liv hung up the phone before he could get it back. You grinned at your friends.

“They’re on their way,” you nodded to the cheers of your friends.

--

“Oh my, he is even better in person,” Lily murmured causing everyone to turn towards the entrance of the bar just in time to see Rafael and five other people walk in. You perked up, almost bouncing in your seat as you waved your hand to get their attention.

“Rafi, Liv!” you called drawing their attention to your table ignoring the other patrons giving you looks. All that mattered was that Rafael made eye contact with you and sent you that impossibly soft smile of his, as his entire face softened and his whole body seemed to relax. Liv was right beside him and was able to see the complete change in him as he saw you and she laughed lightly at how excited you were to see him as well. Nearly bouncing in your seat as you grinned at him.

“She is adorable,” Amanda whispered.

“Just wait until you see them together,” Liv whispered back. “Cutest bloody couple ever.”

“Does this mean we will get to try her food now?” Finn asked.

“Of course that’s your concern,” Nick rolled his eyes.

“Man, I got my priorities right,” Finn shrugged. “The food Liv and Rafael bring into the office smells divine.”

Rafael moved right to your side, sliding his arm around your waist and pressing a kiss to your temple as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, almost falling but Rafael kept you on the seat by pressing himself as close to you as possible. Since you and your friends were sitting on stools you were roughly the same height as Rafael which made it easier to snuggle into him and press kisses along his neck before pulling away to make grabby hands at Liv.

“Liv, hi!” you smiled as she came around to your other side to hug you.

“Hey, there, you all been drinking water tonight yeah?” she asked looking over you and your friends.

“Of course,” Courtney was making near heart eyes at Liv and you couldn’t blame her, that woman was gorgeous.

“Guys this is Rafael, and this is Olivia,” you introduced the only two people you could. “Everyone, this is Lily, Courtney and Shannon.” You then turned pointedly to Rafael, who just narrowed his eyes at you in slight confusion. “Rafi, introductions.” You pouted lightly removing your arms from around Liv to wrap them around your man again, trying your best to look up at him from under your lashes.

“Alright, alright Chica,” he chuckled gently stroking your cheek. “This is Nick, Amanda, Carisi and Finn. This is Lily, and her friends.”

You smiled at him pressing a kiss to his cheek before turned to look at the other members of his friend group who were all sitting around the table, Liv next to you closest to Shannon, Nick and Amanda sitting in the two free seats next to Lily, Finn sitting at the other end of the table and Carisi sitting on the free seat next to Courtney. And Rafael was happy standing next to you with his arm wrapped around your waist.

“We need drinks,” Lily said. “Finn, help a girl out.” Finn just shrugged and followed the woman to the bar. You couldn’t help but smile at your bossy friend as she led Finn to the bar smiling up at him.

“Be careful with what Lily brings back,” Courtney warned. “She always buys potent cocktails.”

“But yummy!” Shannon assured.

“I’ll get us some water,” Liv laughed. “I daresay we’re all gonna need them. And maybe some more food.”

“Ooh, yes more food!” you nodded. “I’m definitely hungry again.”

“We’ve had like two pizzas and two bowls of fries and a bowl of wings,” Courtney quickly listed off on her hands. “How are you still hungry?”

“Don’t know but I am,” you pouted. “So…more food?”

“Noted, when you get drunk you get hungry,” Rafael smiled. “I’ll come with you, to help carry the glasses. I’ll be back, love.”

You narrowed your eyes briefly but at the promise of them ordering more food you released your hold on him.

“Come back quickly, please,” you begged. Rafael just chuckled kissing your cheek, checking the table number before following after Liv who immediately started talking about how adorable you were when drunk. You looked back to the table. “It’s so nice to finally meet all of you. Including Finn.”

“Same here,” Carisis smiled.

“Hmm, we had been all curious about the woman who was able to get Barba to smile,” Amanda added. “He only tends to smile when he is about to demolish the defence and that is a completely different smile.”

“Ah, yes I know which smile you are talking about,” you giggled. “I rather like it.” Though the reason for that smile was probably a little different when you saw it, the others were a little confused by the sudden red that coated your cheeks and went down to your throat.

Amanda, Nick and Carisi all shared a look at that information, filing it away like good detectives to tease the Counsellor with later. Although in the first five seconds of seeing you and Rafael interact, they had a large number of things they could tease him about. Including what seemed to be an uncontrollable desire to always be in contact with you, and the never-before-seen softness to his features.  

“So, any of you single?” Shannon asked giggly.

“Shannon,” you groaned. “Do try to be a little subtle sweetie.”

“What like you were?” she challenged raising an eyebrow. “Begging Rafael to “come”.”

“Oh, shush, that’s completely different,”

“It’s really not,”

“Is so,”

“Girls,” Lily interrupted returning with Finn who was looking incredibly confused by the current back and forth. “Really?”

The detectives were trying so hard to restrain themselves from laughing but it was a challenge that is for sure. Amanda leaned towards Finn to fill him in, causing him to bark out a laugh before trying but failing to cover it with a cough. Lily and Finn quickly handed out a round of shots and placed two jugs of some cocktail in the middle of the table and passed around glasses.

“Finn, I was just saying it is good to finally meet all of you!” you drew the attention back to the fact that you hadn’t met any of the detectives but Liv yet and tried to subtly inform Shannon and the others that you didn’t need them to make things awkward by hitting on them within five seconds. “I have heard quite a bit about you all, from Rafi.”

“He talks about us?” Nick asked, scoffing lightly. “I bet it’s mostly complaining.”

“Well, a little but mostly not,” you shrugged.

“Seriously?” Carisi needed to be sure he heard you correctly.

“Well, yeah, I doubt he holds back with his complaints at work,” you nodded, causing the others to laugh at how right you are.

“Good to see everyone is getting along,” Liv interrupted, returning with a bottle of water and some glasses, Rafael right behind her with another bottle of water and more glasses. “Definitely a good idea to get two bottles of water.”

“I think everyone may regret their choices in the morning,” Rafael quipped.

“I won’t!” you called making grabby hands at Rafael the moment he was in your sight. He smiled indulgently at you as he moved back to your side, his arm finding its way back around your waist, rolling his eyes a little as you sighed happily as you snuggled into to him.

“Oh, you probably will,” Liv said eying the shots that sat in-front of everyone. “Do I want to know what this is?”

“Nope,” Lily grinned picking hers up. “Now come on everyone, bottoms up.”

You and your friends eagerly picked them up, the detectives and Rafael however eyed it a little suspiciously, even Finn, who hadn’t quite heard what Lily had ordered. You turned your pleading eyes to Rafael, nodding towards the shot. He sighed, deeply, already regretting this decision as he picked up his shot. Grinning in triumph you turned to Liv, giving her the same look. Rafael watched in interest as his best friend tried very hard to ignore you, but he was able to watch as Liv’s eyes kept shifting to you and then away before her face scrunched up and she also reached for the shot glass. She shot Rafael a look, but he only raised an eyebrow.

“Now you know what I mean,” he told her.

“What?” you asked looking between the two.

“Well, who would have thought anyone would be able to get Liv to do anything,” Finn grinned. The rest of the detectives nodding in agreement, stunned over what they had just witnessed. The girls shared a look of confusion but their drunk minds quickly forgot about the odd moment.

“Come on,” Courtney begged, her hand lightly grabbed Carisi’s arm before looking towards Nick and Amanda.

“Alright fine,” Carisi laughed picking up the glass looking to the others pleading with his eyes to join him.

“I will make it an order,” Liv added turning on her Sergeant voice. The other three all resigned themselves to whatever was in the shot glasses as they picked them up.

“Bottoms up!” Shannon, Courtney, Lily and you all cheered, tapping the glasses on the table before throwing them back. The detectives and Rafael hesitated one second before copying them.

“Oh, god what is that?” Carisi asked face screwing up as the alcohol hit his tongue.

“I don’t think I want to know,” Nick coughed, reaching for the water that Liv had poured for everyone.

“Sook,” Lily giggled teasingly.

“Can I have some water?” you whispered to Rafael your hand playing with the tie he was wearing.

“Of course, Carino,” Rafael reached for his glass of water handing it to you with a kiss to your temple not noticing the phone in Amanda’s hand that was angled towards the couple. Liv raised an eyebrow at the blonde who merely shrugged, already sending the image to Liv and to Rafael. She figured the couple didn’t have a lot of candid photos of them. Smiling happily at Rafael, you handed him back the glass turning your attention back to the table.

“What are in the jugs?” Amanda asked a little wearily as she reached for one.

“I ordered those,” Finn assured her.

“Somehow I’m not overly assured by that,” she muttered but poured herself a glass regardless and sniffed at it. “Oh, is this just margheritas?”

“Yeah, they didn’t have a lot of options for jugs,” Finn shrugged.

“Good choice!” Shannon eagerly reached for the other jug to pour herself a glass. “Can I pour one for anyone else?”

Courtney pushed her glass towards Shannon with her fingers nodding as she did. “Obviously, I haven’t got work tomorrow.”

“Lucky,” Lily muttered but poured herself one anyway.

“Lily, do I have work tomorrow?” you asked turning to your best friend your brows furrowed as you tried to remember your schedule. Lily squinted at you, mouth opening a little as she tried to remember as well.  

“No, sweetheart you do not,” Rafael answered instead. “You have tomorrow and the following day off to recover from tonight.”

“Aw, he knows her schedule!” Amanda cooed leaning into to Nick.

“Of course I do,” Rafael said drily. “Why would I not?”

“Good point,” Amanda muttered sipping on her drink.

“Ooh! What food did you order?” you asked turning to Liv, one hand leaving the grip it had on Rafael’s suspenders to tug on the end of Liv’s blazer.

“We got more chips and some wings,” Liv informed you grabbing hold of hand and squeezing it gently, finding it difficult to stop the coo that wanted to escape. She found you adorable when she met you the first time, but apparently drunk you put that adorableness to shame.

“Yummy!” you wiggled in excitement at the prospect of food before a frown took over your face as you looked between Rafael and Liv.

“What’s wrong?” Nick caught sight of your frown first.

“Carino?” Rafael quickly turned to you, his free hand coming up to tilt your chin towards him.

“I want to cuddle with you but I don’t want to let go of Liv’s hand,” you whispered, shaking the hand that Liv still had hold of, tightening it in case Liv tried to let go of your hand.

“Darling, how drunk are you right now?” Rafael asked with a fond look, his thumb stroking your pouting lips.  

“Hm…a lot drunker than I was when I downloaded the dating app we met on,” you answered honestly. “Like way more, that shot definitely threw me over the edge.”

“I thought so,” he chuckled. “Want some more water?”

“Yes…but that means I have to let go of either you or Liv,” you pondered looking between Liv and him, lips pursed as you tried to make a decision. “Oh, I know, you can help me!” you grinned, ecstatic that you had solved the problem.

“Surely, he won’t, right?” Finn asked. He was slightly regretting joining but at the sometime not, he was getting a lot of material to tease not only Rafael but also Olivia. Plus, your friends weren’t too bad and he had been wanting to meet you.

“I don’t know, Barba seems very different with her,” Carisi answered shrugging his shoulders.

“Very different,” Finn agreed.

“I-,” Rafael was about to say no, but upon looking at you he once again found he could not say no to you. “Alright, fine.”

“No, way,” Nick muttered as Rafael did exactly that.

“I’ve known her for years,” Lily whispered to Nick. “Trust me, she is adorable and once someone gets to know her it is very hard to say no to her. If you were in his place, you would do the same thing.”

“I doubt it,” Nick turned to Lily raising an eyebrow in doubt.

“Oh, you poor deluded man,” Lily flicked his arm. “We’ll see, it even worked on Olivia, who is not dating her. One day you will have that look directed at you and you will eat your own words.”

The waiter came with the food interrupting anyone from being able to comment further on the fact that Rafael Barba, the man who didn’t relent even with victims, relented under a single look. Rafael set the glass down, pouring more into it, as he wanted to get you to drink as much water as possible otherwise tomorrow morning will be horrible for you. Though…he was a little curious how you would be with a hangover.

“Yay, food!” you cheered letting go of both Liv and Rafael.

“Thought you didn’t want to let go of us?” Liv asked waving her now free hand. Your eyes narrowed as you watched her hand, sure that you were meant to be doing something with it.

“Don’t confuse my poor Chica,” Rafael scolded. “Her poor brain probably can’t handle too much at once.”

“I must have missed the part where my boyfriend suddenly became a comedian,” you muttered crossing your arms. “Stay at your day job.”

“Now see, I was waiting for this,” Finn grinned folding his arms.

The rest of the table who were watching this like it was their dinner entertainment, tried not to nod in agreement with Finn. They dished out the food onto the plates that were placed on the table along with the food. Those who were nearly done with their margherita’s pouring themselves another glass. The detectives hadn’t had too much to drink before they joined you and your friends, so they still were no were near the level you four where at so they were able to hold in their amusement. Your friends however, were getting even further along where unable to hide theirs, the giggling muffled a little by their hands.

“For my girlfriend to insult me?”

“For Rafi to be mean?”

The two of you asked at the same time turning your eyes onto Finn who seemed a little shocked by the response.

“Creepy,” Shannon whispered.

“Extremely,” Carisi agreed. “They’ve only been going out what like two or three months? And they’re already in sync like that?”

“Actually, it’s closer to four months,” you shot at them before going back to the food that Rafael had put on a plate in-front of you. “Being precise with timelines is important, as a detective you should know that.”

“Oh, I see it now,” Amanda said around a mouthful of chicken wings.

“We all see it,” Nick agreed. Pouring another glass of the margherita, noticing that the two jugs were getting empty fast. He glanced at his watch, a little surprised by the amount of time that had passed.

“What do they see?” you leaned towards Liv confused.

“Why you and Rafi get along so well,” Liv whispered back.

“Oh, you mean apart from the fact that the man is gorgeous, charming, sarcastic and incredibly intelligent?” you tilted your head to side. “Oh, and good in bed.” There was a round of near choking around the table as they heard your comment, being drunk you thought you were whispering but you in fact were not.

“Alright, you are definitely cut off,” Rafael pushed the glass of the cocktail away from you. “Eat some more food.”

“Don’t be pushy,” you whined. “And give me my margherita back.”

“Eat some more food and drink some more water and then I will,” he commanded pushing your plate towards you before picking up his own margherita. You leaned towards him wrapping your arms around his neck so your mouth was right next to his ear.

“Or, give me back my margherita and when we go home, I’ll get on my knees and suck your cock the minute we get through the door,” you whispered seductively. “And then, I’ll strip naked for you, put on your vest and ride you.” You moved away a little to allow him to turn his head to look at you.

You felt Rafael’s hand on your waist tighten and you had the pleasure of seeing the red creep up his neck as his eyes started to burn. He swallowed, the knuckles on his other hand turned white as he gripped his drink. He was very grateful that you still had enough thought to whisper that in his ear rather than saying it loud enough for the rest of the table to hear.

“Chica,” he warned eyes taking in your cheeky grin. “That’s out of line.”

“Hm, we’re not in a court of law my dear,” you giggled. “So, counsellor, do you accept the terms?”

“No,” Rafael stated, smirking as your mouth dropped open in surprise.

“Really?” you were shocked. “But…I want my margherita.”

“Then drink some water and eat,” Rafael raised his eyebrow at the water he pushed towards you. “And you will.”

“Fine,” you huffed pulling your arms from his neck. “Then I won’t suck your dick.”

“…please tell me I wasn’t the only one who heard that?” Finn muttered.

“We all heard it,” Liv muttered eyes wide and looking away.

“You are naughty!” Shannon giggled leaning as far as she could to swat at your arm. “Is that what you whispered to him?”

You nodded holding the glass of water eyeing it suspiciously, cheeks puffed out as you sulked. Olivia lifted her drink out of the way of Shannon’s flailing limb, trying very hard to restrain herself as she watched the marid of expressions that passed over Rafael’s face. Shock, horror and that last one was a little unclear, but oddly enough she could still make out the fondness that he has for you in his eyes as he watched you giggle at your friend but still sulk over not getting your margherita.

“This has got to be one of the most entertaining nights I’ve had in the longest of times,” Amanda giggled. “And Barba the look on your face was priceless.”

“I hate all of you,” he answered, drowning the last of his margherita before grabbing your glass and drinking that as well.

“Hey!” you squeaked. “That’s mine.”

“You hadn’t finished your water or your food,” he groused.

“You’re not getting sex,” you glared at him.

“We’ll see,” he smirked at you, slowly licking his lips, your lips parted as you felt warmth slowly build, you had to squeeze you legs together as your eyes glazed over.

“Is he?” Nick asked, not even wanting to finish that sentence.

“That is the sign for me to go,” Finn decided standing up, a look of near horror on his face. His eyes squinted as he looked between Rafael and you. “It was good to meet all of you. Maybe next time a little less alcohol.”

“Agreed,” everyone agreed.

“I think I’ll also call it a night,” Amanda smiled. “I should go and walk Frannie before it gets too much later. Are you girls fine to get home?”

“Aw, that is so sweet!” Lily leaned into Amanda smiling up at her. “I’ll be fine, I’ve gotten home when I have been way more drunk.”

“If you’re sure?” Amanda asked.

“Mhm, though I can’t say the same thing for Courtney or Shannon,” Lily nodded towards the two other girls who were leaning against each other and giggling.

“True,” Amanda agreed, eyeing them both.

“I’ll help with them,” Lily patted her arm. “Shannon lives on the way to mine so I can take her in an uber with me. Courtney however, lives in the opposite direction.”

“I can take her,” Amanda offered.

“Ooh I get to ride with the pretty detective?” Courtney asked bouncing in her seat. “It’s my lucky day.”

“I wanna ride with the pretty detective,” Shannon muttered.

“You ride with me,” Lily pointed at her. “And you better say you’re lucky with that.”

“Duh,” Shannon rolled her eyes. “But I get to ride with a pretty librarian all the time.”

“I am both offended and fine with that,” Lily shrugged as she quickly drowned the rest of her margherita. “Is anyone else heading my way? Can take two more in my uber.”

“I’ll take you up on that,” Finn nodded.

“Carisi, you coming with?” Amanda asked, a particular look in her eye as she looked at the Italian.

“Sure, that okay with you Courtney?” Carisi asked, not wanting to tag along if she wasn’t okay with it.

“Two pretty detectives?” Courtney asked. “Getting better and better.”

“I think that’s a yes,” Nick muttered. “I’ll be fine on my own. Liv, you good getting home?”

“I’ll be fine, I live in the opposite direction of all of you,” Liv smiled. Everyone turned to Rafael and you, both currently still arguing over him drinking your drink. “I think they’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, I don’t think it’ll be a good idea to share a ride with them,” Nick grinned. “It might get a little awkward.”

“Hey, lovebirds,” Carisi teased. “You two ready to go home?”

“Not with him,” you muttered, turning your pleading eyes to Liv.

“Oh, no,” Liv laughed reaching out to squeeze your cheek. “You are going with Rafi. Maybe you can tease him to feel bad about drinking your alcohol.”

“Ooh, could idea!” you nodded, trying to climb off your seat. “Come on bub.”

“I’ll never forgive this betrayal, Liv,” Rafael promised as he kept hold of your waist keeping you from stumbling. “She’s really good at teasing. It should be a crime.”

“Oops,” Liv grinned. “Come on.”

The group made it’s way out of the bar, Liv, Lily and Amanda helping Shannon and Courtney. They were surprising stable, only a little unsteady after sitting down for so long and drinking as much as they had. Nick, Carisi and Finn were all at the back keeping an eye on everyone else, they didn’t even realise that they had done it until Liv glanced over her shoulder and raised an eyebrow as the group waited for their Ubers together.

“What?” Nick asked crossing his arms. “You know me, you can’t even pretend to be surprised by this.”

“Alright, that’s actually fair,” Liv rolled her eyes.

“Rafi, the world is spinning,” you whined, looking up at Rafael, your hands were once again holding onto his suspenders.  

“Aw, my poor Chica,” Rafael cooed lightly brushing the hair out of your eyes before pulling out his phone to order an Uber, his other hand still held you tightly against his side. “Let’s get you home, my apartment or yours?”

“Yours, please,” you grinned up at him, all annoyance over him stealing your drink gone. “I sleep better at yours now.” You nuzzled your face back into his neck, sighing happily as his scent surrounded you.

Rafael felt his heart melt at that, the two of you rarely slept away from the other these days. The first time you had been in his bed when he got back from a late night in the office it had been surreal, he had to stop for a moment and appreciate that fact that you wanted to be there when he got back. It had happened after he got an emergency call, the two of you had been having dinner at his and you were prepared to head back to your apartment when he left but he offered for you to stay at his without even really thinking about it, all he knew was that he wanted to come back to his apartment with you still there.

“Looks like our ride is here,” Amanda motioned towards the car that just pulled up pulling everyone out of their conversations. Carisi moved forward ready to help with Courtney. “Tonight, has been…entertaining and enlightening.”

“All of this has been off the record,” Rafael warned looking pointedly at all the detectives.

“Sure, counsellor,” Carisi agreed, a boyish grin on his face. “Next time we need a warrant and you don’t want to do it I’ll just call y/n up and she can get you to do it.”

“Nope, that is an abuse of my power,” you claimed not lifting your head from Rafael’s neck. “Only use it when absolutely necessary.”

“Noted,” Finn said.

“Alright, Shannon, Finn our ride is also here,” Lily waved towards another car that pulled up. “It was lovely to meet all of you, should do this again sometime.”

“That would be nice,” Liv agreed.

“Thirded!” you called. “I loved meeting the rest of Rafi’s friends!”

“And we definitely enjoyed meeting you,” Nick assured you, chuckling a little.

A round of goodbyes followed as everyone managed to get into their Ubers with minimal issues. Assuring everyone that they would message when each member got home safe and sound. The more sober members of the group thoroughly entertained by the drunker members attempt to converse with the drivers before getting sleepy.

--

“Alright, Carino, here we are,” Rafael huffed as he gently set you down on his bed, hands hovering just in case you started to sway a bit too much but when you stayed upright, he moved around his room, gathering some clothes for you to sleep in. A little selfishly he grabbed one of his shirts for you, along with a pair of your panties that you kept here. “Alright, let’s get you changed, that make up off and some more water into you.”

“Rafi,” you looked at him biting your lip as your hands struggled to undo the buttons on your top. “Let’s have sex.”

“I thought you said no sex for me because I was mean,” Rafael laughed, grabbing the make up removal wipes you kept on the dresser. He warmed at the thought that there were daily items you used all around his apartment.

“Oh yeah,” you mumbled before shrugging. “Really that’s punishing me as well and I don’t deserve that. I deserve your talented fingers, tongue and cock.”

“Lord help me,” he muttered rubbing his forehead as his cock twitched in interest. He had tried so hard to keep it down at the bar after you whispered to him but here in the privacy of his own apartment it was becoming a hassle. “Baby, you are really drunk, so that is a no on the sex.”

“Maybe but I wanna,” you promised him. “I fully, whole heartedly consent to you railing me. Besides you’re already getting me undressed.”

“To get you into something to sleep in because you are drunk,” Rafael explained patiently. This was the first time he had ever seen you drunk and it was both amusing and difficult as he tried to get you changed. “Come on arms up, there we go.”

Thankfully, in your drunken state you eagerly followed his directions as he changed you and gently wiped off the make up you were wearing. Being sure to get every last spec of it. He wasn’t about to try and get you through your entire skin care routine but he figured you could do that in the morning or he could help you if you were hungover. Who was he kidding? You were going to be so hungover.

“Sex?” you asked one last time as he got you to drink some more water, leaving a bottle on the bedside table before he quickly got changed and slid into bed beside you, tugging you close.

“You’re drunk,”

“…yeah…” yawning you wiggled into a more comfortable position of sleeping mostly on Rafael’s chest. “Night bub…” soft snores followed after that as you drifted off into a drunken sleep.

“Tomorrow morning is going to be something,” Rafael muttered pressing a kiss to the top of your head, wrapping his arms around you as he listened to you breathing, letting that lull him to sleep.

[candycandy00]

The Offering - A Sukuna x Reader Fic Part 4

Once upon a time, Sukuna was a human man, albeit a monstrously cruel and powerful one. Villages across the land worshipped him as a living deity. One such village holds a festival for seven nights in his honor every year, and on each night they make generous offerings to him, including women who are never seen again. On the fifth night, you are selected to be the offering. 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

If you’d like to be tagged when I post the final part, comment to let me know. You must have your age in your bio or pinned post and be 18+ to be tagged.  

Feedback of any kind is greatly appreciated! Thanks so much for the feedback on part three! It warms my pervy little heart! ❤️

Smut. 18+. Sukuna is a human (my theory is that he got his four-armed body by modifying himself with jujutsu fuckery later in life). Dubcon. Mentions of rape that happened “off screen”. Very rough sex. Blood. Sukuna just generally being a sadistic monster. F!Reader. This is dark and quite intense!

It was late the next morning when Sukuna was sitting in the bath, cherry blossoms floating all around him. He’d long enjoyed the fragrance of this particular flower, especially because they were so short-lived. This village had been wise to hold his festival in the spring, so that they could incorporate the blossoms into his offerings. 

As he watched the pale pink blossoms float by, his mind drifted to the offering who was probably still asleep in his bed, or perhaps having breakfast. Now that he’d thought of her, he wanted her to come and bathe with him. She would probably be embarrassed, even though he’d seen every inch of her numerous times by now. Imagining her blushing face was getting him excited, so he summoned a shrine maiden and told her to bring the offering. 

Only a few minutes passed before the girl was led into the bathing room, wearing only the sheer white robe. The moisture in the air was making the thin fabric cling to her body in all the best places. Sukuna subconsciously licked his lips as the girl bowed low to the ground and the shrine maiden left. 

“You can look up,” he said, and he waited for her to raise her head and look at him before he stood up in the bath. The water came up to his thighs, leaving most of his body exposed. He watched her expression as her eyes raked over his form, water drizzling down over his muscular chest and abdomen, his cock soft but still large and impressive. He knew he was an attractive man. Many people, regardless of gender, had looked at him with appreciative eyes. But once they knew who he was, his reputation for cruelty and extreme violence made their sense of fear override any attraction they might have felt. 

Well, this strange offering was the exception. 

Even knowing he was a sadistic monster, she was completely overtaken by her lust for him. He found that endlessly amusing, and so he stood there wet and naked before her, giving her hungry little eyes a feast. 

“Stand,” he told her, “and remove your robe.”

Instead of getting up immediately, she instead lowered her flushed face back to the floor. “Lord Sukuna,” she began with a small and frightened voice, “may I please… request something of you?”

He stepped out of the bath and walked over to stand above her. This close, he could see that her body was trembling. Though he was normally annoyed by requests, he was too curious not to allow it. He asked, “What is your request?”

She kept her head to the floor and spoke in a frail and halting voice. “If… if you see fit to do so… could you please… show me mercy and b-be gentle with me today? My body still aches from last night, my Lord.”

Ah, so that was it. In all honesty, hearing her beg him to be gentle with her while quivering before him made him want to take her right there on the floor, harder than he ever had before. He wondered what sort of expression she would wear as he mercilessly pounded into her. Ahhh, he could hear her lovely screams in his mind, her pleading voice begging him to stop as he left fresh bruises all over her soft body. 

Then his mind was invaded by the image of her smiling, and the image of her hugging the pink robe. He sighed. “I’ll show you mercy, if you can satisfy me in other ways.

Now stand up and remove your robe.”

He watched her hurry to her feet, clearly eager to please him. As she shyly pulled off the robe and let it drop to her feet, he wondered how he would kill her at the end of the night. She had certainly pleased him enough to earn a quick death, but he didn’t want it to be over so soon. He wanted to take his time, draw out every agonized scream, slowly slice away parts of her until there was nothing left. 

Ah, but he didn’t have time for that. He would be leaving the village by morning. It was a shame that she wasn’t the offering on the first night. Then he would have had the whole week to enjoy her. The first four nights had been an utter waste. Only the first offering had made it to his bed, and only then because he hadn’t enjoyed a woman in weeks and wasn’t feeling particular. She’d been totally boring, a hole to fuck and nothing more. He didn’t even remember her face or what she’d sounded like. The other three had been eviscerated in front of the dais, their hysterical blubbering too annoying for him to bear. 

He looked at the bandaged girl in front of him and wondered if he’d ever be able to purge from his memory the image of her smiling face, the sounds of her sweet moans and cries, the feeling of her arms clutching him with all their meager might. He walked over to a stone seat near the water and sat down, deciding to give the matter more thought in the evening. 

********

When Lord Sukuna had stood up in the water, you’d literally stopped breathing for a few moments. Standing there naked, glistening with water, black ink trailing lines down his body, he looked every bit the god your village worshipped him as. When he came to stand over you, the closeness of that perfect body to yours made you feel dizzy. His beauty only made you more self conscious, but you took off your robe as he commanded. 

Now he was seated near the water, and he beckoned you to follow. You approached him slowly, dreading whatever he might do to you but also feeling an incredible thrill. You were already wet just from the sight of him. 

When you were close enough, he reached up a hand and ran it over your bandages. You felt a shiver when his damp palm slid over your bare nipples. 

“Let’s take these off,” he said, and began peeling the thin strips of cloth from your body. He unwrapped you as if he were opening a gift, using careful, intimate movements that left your face burning. When the bandages were completely removed, you somehow felt more naked, even though they covered very little to begin with. 

He pulled you closer to him, so that you were wedged in between his spread legs. You could feel that he was getting hard. As if in response, you felt your own arousal dripping down your legs. You clamped them together, embarrassed that you had no control over yourself when you were this close to him. But he looked at you with a smug smile, seemingly able to read your thoughts. One of his hands squeezed in between your thighs and moved up, just grazing your pussy before withdrawing. 

He held up his hand, shiny with your fluids, and looked you in the eyes as he licked it clean. Your knees nearly gave way. That look in his eyes said he knew he was driving you mad with lust, that he enjoyed making you so wet you could hardly bear it. He grinned as he leaned closer and said, “If you want me to show mercy to your dripping pussy, then satisfy me with your mouth.”

As he pulled back slightly, he licked two of his fingers, thoroughly coating them in his saliva, then plunged them into your mouth. He watched you suck them ravenously as he spoke again. “Ah, but I haven’t given you permission to have my cock in your hot little mouth. What are you going to do?” The question was asked in a mocking tone, but you knew the answer. 

His fingers slipped from your mouth and his strong hands pushed you down to your knees in front of him. His fully hard erection stood tall, inches from your face. You wanted it in your mouth immediately, to taste him, to please him. But he hadn’t given permission yet, so you looked up at him with teary eyes and said, “Please, Lord Sukuna… please honor me by letting me taste your cock.”

You saw his eyes widen just slightly, and his engorged member seemed to twitch. Then a wide smirk appeared on his handsome face. “Very well. You can taste it, but you’re not allowed to take it into your mouth yet.”

With a small bow of appreciation, you extended your tongue and began licking up and down his length, slowly, with worshipful motions. You paid special attention to the tip, where a few delicious drops were leaking out. Ahh, you wanted it in your mouth so badly! 

“Please, I beg of you, my Lord,” you said between licks, a thin string of his sticky precum connecting his tip to your tongue, “Let me take you into my unworthy mouth.”

He looked down at you with no expression. “Denied,” he said. 

His cock was throbbing under your tongue, but he clearly wasn’t going to go easy on you. It wasn’t like you were trying to be seductive, you were simply voicing your genuine desires. You nestled your tongue into his tip again and continued your pleading. 

“Lord Sukuna… please… I need you in my mouth… please! Fill my mouth with your cock… let me drink your cum…”

You said it all while licking every inch of him with religious devotion. 

Finally, he grinned down at you and said, “You can take me in your mouth now.”

Your lips immediately enclosed around his length, the unbelievably huge cock completely stuffing your waiting mouth, your tongue circling it. 

Even though you were enraptured with the taste of him, you heard his silky voice above you. 

“Oh, but now that I’m in your mouth, don’t take my cock out. No matter what. I’ll remove it when I’m ready.”

You looked up at him and nodded your head as best you could while having your mouth so full. You couldn’t imagine wanting to take it out now that you had such a gift in your mouth, but your mind was getting a little fuzzy, momentarily forgetting the kinds of cruel games Sukuna liked to play with you. 

Your legs were slippery, drenched in your own juices. You were so aroused, you couldn’t stop your hand from moving down to slip inside your folds. 

“Don’t touch your clit,” you heard Sukuna say in a commanding voice, and you felt like sobbing as you pulled your hand away. He wouldn’t touch it or allow you to touch it last night, and so it remained swollen and sensitive and begging for attention. 

You heard him laugh at your distress. “Such a needy little cunt,” he said. 

He was pulsing in your mouth, you could almost feel his heartbeat. You kept up your ministrations, using your entire mouth to pleasure him. The thick organ twitched once more, and then all at once his hand gripped your hair and pulled you forward until he was choking you. He came, shooting hot cum directly down your throat. But at the same moment, he released your hair and his hand moved to your nose, where he pinched it shut, cutting off your air. 

You almost jerked back in your panic, but you remembered him telling you not to take his cock out of your mouth, so you held on, feeling the warm and sticky cum sliding down your throat as you struggled to swallow it without breathing. Tears were falling from your eyes as you looked up at him, silently pleading for him to let you take a breath. He watched you for a moment before finally releasing your nose. 

For several moments you sucked in air through your nose and sputtered and coughed around his cock, not letting it fall out of your mouth. He seemed to be enjoying your struggle, looking down at you with an amused expression. It took you a little while to realize he still hadn’t pulled out, even though he had already cum. 

“Did you really think I would be satisfied with cumming in your mouth only once?” he asked. Then he reached down and stroked your hair as he said, “Keep me in your mouth until you make me cum again.”

You wasted no time swirling your tongue around his now soft cock. The first step was getting him hard again, so you focused on that, making gentle sucking motions and moving your head back and forth. You tried to ignore the red eyes staring down at you, watching you work, as well as the soreness blossoming in your jaw from keeping something so big in your mouth without letting your teeth hit it. 

Thankfully, it didn’t take long for him to be fully erect again, and the feeling of him swelling against your tongue made you even wetter. 

You had given up denying to yourself that you were falling for this monstrous man. He was cruel and brutal and enjoyed hurting you, but it didn’t change the way you felt in his presence. You wanted him, so much that your entire being ached for him. Even knowing he was going to kill you did nothing to dull your passion. And so you communicated those feelings through your mouth on his cock, wanting him to feel your desire, your love. 

And after only a few minutes, you felt him throbbing again. His hand returned to your hair, and you prepared yourself to have his cock shoved down your throat again, but this time he suddenly pulled himself out of your mouth. As you looked up at him curiously, his hand still holding your head still, you felt strings of hot cum shoot onto your face. It covered you, getting into your hair, dripping down over one of your eyes, across your nose, running down over your lips and falling from your chin to drizzle over your breasts. 

You stared up at him with one eye open, frozen, not daring to wipe any away without permission even as a glob of it ran over your left eyelid. As he looked down at your messy, cum-soaked face, Sukuna was smirking again, clearly very pleased with himself. He stroked the back of your hair and stood up from the stone seat. “Good girl,” he said, “now finish your meal.”

It took a moment for your addled mind to understand what he meant, but then it clicked for you. As he watched, you began wiping up globs of his cum with your hands and pushing it into your mouth, licking your fingers clean each time. You smiled up at him and said, “Thank you for this blessing, Lord Sukuna.”

The smirk seemed to vanish from his face, and he turned away from you. Was that….? No, it couldn’t have been…. You knew it had to have been your imagination, but for the briefest of moments, just before he turned away, you could’ve sworn there was a faint pink tint to his face. 

You didn’t have time to think more deeply on it, because soon after he turned back to you and scooped you up in his arms, carrying you to the bath. You didn’t protest, only gasped in surprise as he stepped into the water and sat down, easing you into the steamy warmth. The water smelled so sweet, like him. 

He gently pushed your entire head down into the water, just for a few seconds, then pulled you back up. Then he had a sponge in his hand, wiping at your face. When finished, he turned you to face away from him and then began running his hands through your hair, working some sort of lather into it. 

Was he really washing your hair? It seemed ludicrous. He was a tyrant, an evil god, but right now he was carefully rinsing your hair. The soft movements made your whole body tingle. Was this his way of rewarding you? Or the start of another sick game? 

Once your hair was washed, he sat back against the wall of the tub and pulled you into his lap, your back against his firm, wet chest. One of his hands moved over your body lightly, brushing over your nipples, your stomach, you hips, and then settling between your thighs. 

The hand just sat there for a while, not moving and not parting your folds, as if it were just a comfortable place to leave it. Then, just as you were relaxing, one of his fingers slipped in. It pointedly did not touch your clit, only the area around it, which drove you mad. He circled it without even grazing it once, and you quivered in his lap. 

“Please… Lord Sukuna…”

He had his mouth close to you ear. “Please what?”

“Please touch my…”

After you failed to finish the sentence, he whispered to you, “Touch your what?”

You squirmed as he kept rubbing everywhere except your aching nub. “My… c-clit,” you whined, both your hands gripping his strong arm. 

“I won’t,” he said, “and you won’t either. Not now.” 

The finger he’d been tormenting you with slid completely inside you, and was quickly joined by another. You moaned, your back arching against him as he pumped both fingers in and out of you. 

Your senses were overwhelmed. The heat of the water, the strong scent of cherry blossoms, Sukuna’s perfect body pressed against yours, his sultry whispers, his fingers fucking your needy hole… it was too much for your fragile emotions to handle. 

“Lord Sukuna… I love you…”

The words slipped out before you could stop them, and you quickly lowered your face to hide your blush. His fingers never stopped, and in fact he added a third as his other hand tilted your chin up to make you look at him. 

He looked amused, as usual, and said in his beautiful voice, “Such a pitiful little offering.” Before you could even wonder what he meant by those words, his mouth encased yours, his tongue pressing between your lips and swirling with your own. Your hips in his lap reflexively moved with the rhythm of his plunging fingers as you moaned into his mouth. 

Every inch of you felt amazing. You wanted to stay like this forever. If only the festival would never end, if only you could have been chosen the first night and had a few more nights with Sukuna, if only he felt even one tiny, fleeting speck of care for you. 

One of his fingers pressed a spot inside you that made you nearly scream in pleasure, and you came on his hand, your body shuddering in his arms while his lips drank in your moans. 

The two of you remained in the water for a while longer, neither of you speaking, your panting the only sound in the room. Then Sukuna stepped out of the water, and you followed soon after. 

You stared at his form longingly as he dried himself off. He caught your gaze and laughed. “We just bathed. Don’t tempt me to make a mess of you again.”

You blushed and turned away from him to finish drying off yourself. You were still embarrassed about your slip up earlier, when you accidentally admitted that you loved him. You knew such feelings from an ordinary village girl were laughable to him, so you hoped he would simply forget it. 

The two of you pulled on fresh robes and left the bathing room. As you walked down the hall a few steps behind Sukuna, he looked over his shoulder and said, “Let’s have something to eat. You don’t want to be hungry when night falls.” Then he continued on. 

You stopped dead in your tracks. It occurred to you that he would definitely take you in his bed one more time before the festival ended, and he would probably hurt you again. You thought you could withstand physical pain, you’d even made peace with the fact that he would kill you. But there was still something he could do to you that you didn’t think you could handle, something he would most likely do just for the sake of being cruel. He could let you know just how little he thought of you, how ridiculous your sad little love was, how meaningless these past few days had been to him. 

A strange little throb appeared in your chest, and you pressed your hand there to feel your own heart beating. You shook your head to try to dispel your dark thoughts, and hurried after Sukuna, deciding to do your best to enjoy your final hours. 

Tag List:

@yourmumsthings @boogeysmoth @gojoscumslut @slut4animedilfs @urcrybby24 @kaqua @chiisana-akuma @httpslu0 @thoreau-ly @poopoobuttsy

[kimdokjas]

why you should read Mystic Prince if you enjoyed ORV

Mystic Prince / Prince of Myolyeong (묘령의 황자) is a fantasy and action-adventure manhwa with art & story by Aheuredal (아흐레달) and in my humble opinion, an absolute hidden gem. it's literally one the best manhwas i've ever read (among the top 2) and i've finally gathered my thoughts enough to try to articulate why i love it so much, and hopefully convince you to give it a chance!

here's the official summary on webtoon:

An immortal emperor rules the Kingdom of Yeol, a divine country blessed by gods with awesome powers. After a thousand years of peaceful rule, the time has come for a new emperor to be chosen. This is determined by a series of trials, in which twenty princes with special powers who have trained since birth must compete. As all princes of varying personalities and agendas gather to partake in the trials, intrigue and possibly even bloodshed seem all but certain. Meanwhile, unbeknownst to the other princes, the Fourth Prince Jeok-yeon Ryu hides a secret he must guard with his life.

anyway i literally made a carrd for this, that's how much i care about this manhwa and i worked very hard on it!! you can find the carrd here*

(* also if you hate daily pass like me pls note that there's a fan translation as well! just keep in mind that some episodes have ost but you can find the links to youtube on the carrd as well. but if you enjoy it please do try to leave likes, comments, and a good rating on webtoon to support the creator!)

Mystic Prince is incredibly unique in terms of story and execution that i can't really compare it to anything else but here's why i think you'll enjoy it, especially if you also liked orv:

strong-willed MC who's not naturally skilled but works extremely hard

said MC is willing to suffer and hurt themselves to achieve their goals (aka kim dokja-esque tendencies)

seemingly cold and aloof ML with yoo joonghyuk vibes at first, naturally gifted and seems to look down on everyone

...but is actually head over heels for MC and just doesn't know how to express his feelings

ensemble cast of incredibly complex and well-developed characters with different personalities and motivations

MC seems a little dense at times but they have a tragic backstory that explains why they're Like That

incredibly bisexual vibes !! like literally off the charts

slowburn romance that is cooking up such a great meal

MC and ML have actually known each other for centuries

characters go through trials that involve risking death

extremely unique lore and world-building

i said ML before but there are actually multiple potential MLs with how much complexity all the character dynamics have

beautiful character designs (literally over 10+ within the main cast and they're all so unique)

evocative writing and heartfelt monologues that seem taken out of a book of pure poetry

narratively significant motifs of fire and water (à la orv's black/white and reader/protagonist)

profound and realistic depiction of the inner feelings and troubles that the characters go through

incredibly heart-wrenching original soundtrack! (actually made me cry)

some of the most gorgeous art i've seen in any manhwa (seriously pls just open the 1st episode and look at the first few panels)

[spoilers below for chapter ~10]

delicious gender fuckery

MC is actually cross-dressing afab (i personally hc them as genderqueer; korean doesn't have gendered pronouns but the official tl uses she/her pronouns)

bonus: they're built like a fucking tank (as seen here) like hello??? which is so refreshing to see for an afab MC

plus they're also canonically lacking in empathy but still deeply compassionate which again is really refreshing

i'm sure there's even more stuff i'm forgetting but these are just some reasons off the top of my head why i think this manhwa is so amazing

please do give Mystic Prince a chance, it's an absolute delight!! there are multiple beautiful covers but here's a couple of them, BE ART BAITED <3

and finally some of my personal reactions to Mystic Prince and also a note regarding the content warnings under the cut!

feel free to skip this part lol but personally when i look for recs, i love when people tell me their emotional reactions and how passionate they are about it! so if this tells you anything,

this is the ONLY manhwa to have made me cry so far (yes that includes the orv webtoon, but not the novel ofc) like actually ugly sobbing with snot and tears and everything lmao

(it's not all sad though! this manhwa will have you clutching your heart one moment and then cackling out loud the next)

and it's also the ONLY manhwa i've ever spent actual money on before the fan tl picked it up just so i could read the advanced chapters (i'm notoriously cheap so this says a lot imo)

and i'm not alone in this, every other comment on webtoon is people saying the exact same thing. the general consensus is that this is 100% a hidden gem (webtoon DP my behated why'd you have to shoot yourself in the foot like that)

also regarding the content warnings on the carrd: this was my first time making a list of cws (i don't think anyone else has made one yet?) and i was a little hesitant to add them, so i sincerely apologize if i missed anything!! if anyone else has anything else to add (cws or otherwise) then please feel free to send me a message and i'll be happy to edit it!!

(btw this was inspired by this post which is also a great summary for why u should read a cnovel called mist unlimited)

[beanghostprincess]

I thought I didn’t care about Buggy’s new feathered haircut that much until I saw the animators interpretation and oh god, oh fuck, oh dear what kind of fuckery is this it looks so LUSH? It looks so thick and luxurious I want to run my fingers trough it what the hell?!

Crocodile please throw his head over so I can get in on some of that action as well.

Speaking of powerplay tough, Crocodile also having an affinity for the damn clowns hair and kind of just manhandling him by hit almost on instinct. Him deciding on a more honey than vinegar style on humiliating the poor guy for once and just plopping Buggy’s head in his lap and petting his hair like he’s the worlds most morbid Bond villain cat in front of god and the world. Buggy being mortified by this but also enjoying Crocodile being gentle for once. Buggy trying to hide his face behind his hair when it gets too overwhelming, whimpering, while Crocodile just basically goes „Shh. We have important business to discuss Clown.“

I just imagined Crocodile spinning his chair around when Mihawk enters the room and he just has Buggy's head on his lap like a fucking cat. And it's the funniest thing-

No, but really. Seriously. They make me go insane. You're so real for this. I want Crocodile to be dominant but also gentle to the point that Buggy actually wants more because he doesn't have to do shit. Crocodile will just pamper him and stroke his hair and give him kisses with the most stoic and serious contradicting tone of voice in the world. That's his little pathetic boyfriend, after all.

And Buggy covering his face with his hair when he's overwhelmed is a thing I didn't know I needed. Going wild with them. Thank you.

[wormdebut]

67 if the steddies is still open!!!

HELLO THERE! Hi! Sorry this took a second, but it is here. And it certainly is something. #67 on my Spotify Wrapped is Judas by Lady Gaga The following blurb is rated a Hard M/Soft E. There is religious fuckery, daddy kink, hand kink, and spit. (Isn't there always with me?) Anywhozle, minors DNI. Everyone else, Enjoy.

----

Eddie loves Sundays. Sundays are great. He has time to lay down a few new guitar tracks, he gets high at noon, lounges around his house in his boxers. Sundays are great. Lately, Eddie gets something better than all of that though.

He gets Steve Harrington, pent up and in his Sunday best.

Eddie fucking loves Sundays.

He checks his watch, 12:15. Lovely. Steve should be here any--Eddie smiles to himself when he hears the soft knock at his front door. His soft boy.

Eddie waltzes over, pulling the front door open and Steve's eyes--big and wide--meet his own.

"Hi." Steve breathes as his eyes run up and down Eddie's shirtless tattooed chest. Eddie holds back a laugh, but can't stop the smirk when Steve's eyes go wider when he drags his gaze over Eddie's half hard cock in his boxer--He was tracking a bad ass song. So he got a little excited. Kill him. Steve's eyes snap back up to Eddie's.

He has a staring problem, Eddie's boy does. Eddie grabs him by the waist, Steve letting out a soft hum as Eddie pulls him inside. Sweet little thing.

"Hi baby boy." He says before pulling Steve in for a kiss. It's not even anything, a quick thing. Eddie has done much worse to his baby, but Steve whimpers. Melts into it.

So, church was rough today then.

Eddie can work with this.

He deepens the kiss, pushing his tongue into Steve's soft mouth, past his pink lips. Steve's lets out a noise between a sigh and a moan. Whines when Eddie pulls away, chasing after his lips.

Eddie leans back, grabbing Steve's face. Steve leans into his hand, hums. Eddie runs his finger over his cheekbone, delighting in the red blush running over his pretty face. He cocks his head, "Rough service?"

Steve shakes his head, still leaning into Eddie's touch. "D'wanna talk about it. Just want you." Steve jerks his head out of Eddie's hold and leans forward, trying for a kiss and Eddie clicks his tongue against his teeth, dropping his hold of Steve completely.

Eddie makes his way back to his sofa and Steve just stands by the door, eyes wide, frown wider. "I--Eds please." He breathes.

Eddie throws the strap of his guitar over his back and levels Steve with a sharp look. "Please what baby boy?"

"I--I need--" He stutters and Eddie raises an eyebrow. "I need you, daddy."

Oh. Steve only pulls that out when he's particularly down. Eddie tries his best not to smirk. His pretty baby will get what he needs, always does.

"I know you do, precious. But, I need to get this guitar tracking finished. So why don't you come over here and wait while I do?"

Eddie watches as Steve pouts. Perfect pink lip jutting out. Eddie sighs, "Stevie, you better put that bratty little lip away right now. You wanna be good, don't you?"

Steve straightens up and nods. Lets out a breathy "Yes."

Eddie smiles at that. "There's my good boy. C'mere, kneel in front of me. I want you to watch."

Steve is quick, doesn't even bother to take off his suit jacket as he rushes over. Eddie is quicker, throws a pillow down, before Steve can hurt himself on the damn hardwood.

"Jesus, baby." Eddie breathes. "Be nice to yourself."

Steve just kneels, eyes locked on Eddie's, doesn't speak. Doesn't want to. He is a man of little words on Sunday afternoons. His stupid fucking church ruse takes everything out of him.

Eddie hums, leaning forward to run a hand through Steve's hair, before he settles back into the sofa and hit the record button on his mac. This song is intense. Heavy guitar, he loses himself in it, like he is wont to do. Things couldn't be better for Eddie, he's got a successful music career and a fucking angel at his feet.

It's over before he knows it. He looks to Steve, still dutifully kneeling on his pillow. Eddie expects Steve's eyes to find his, like they always do, but Steve isn't looking for eye contact. He's looking at Eddie's hands. He watches as Steve's eyes track his fingers as he pulls off the guitar, sets it on the couch. Steve's eyes follow. Eddie smirks.

He snaps his fingers and that's what does it. Steve's eyes jerk up.

"Whatcha thinking about baby?" Eddie asks.

Steve just hums. "Your hands--fingers. Want 'em."

Eddie smirks, patting his lap, come here baby boy."

His boy scrambles up, quickly sitting in Eddie's lap, he leans forward for a kiss, which Eddie allows, before he leans back running his thumb across spit slicked lips. Steve's mouth drops open, tongue lolling out and Eddie--well.

Eddie pulls, forcing Steve's mouth to open wider and spits. Steve moans, but doesn't swallow. Knows not to.

"God, you are such a good boy." Eddie growls as he plunges to fingers into Steve's mouth, running them over his tongue, mixing his and Steve's spit. He pushes them back, into Steve's throat, "Swallow baby."

Steve groans as he swallows around the fingers in his mouth. Eddie can feel his cock through his dress pants. Today will be fun.

Eddie pulls his fingers out, watches as Steve's tries to lean forward, pull them back in. He taps at Steve's cheek, rubbing the spit up and down his pretty cheek.

Steve whimpers. "Oh my god."

Eddie laughs, darkly. "Mm no baby, God's not here."

----

Jesus is my virtue, and Judas is the demon I cling to.

[x-alted]

✧⋆⋄✧⋄⋆✧Busted and Blue✧⋆⋄✧⋄⋆✧

⋄Rating: Mature(+18), MDNI, NSFT

⋄Pairing: Leon Kennedy/GN!Reader

⋄Wordcount: 2.1k

⋄Synopsis: Under the cover of night, Leon's in your bed. He's tied up and a mess, eager for you to make him busted and blue...

⋄Tags: GN! Sex, BDSM, Cock and Ball Torture (cock hitting and btiting), light Praise Kink, Shibari, Gags, Riding Crops, Dominant and Submissive dynamics, light Sadism and Masochism, Unprotected Sex, general fuckery tbh.

⋄A/N: This is my first post, and not beta read lol. I rarely ever post my fanfic, but there might be more in the future occasionally. This wasn't written with any particular Leon in mind, so feel free to fantasize as you please. Also, please make sure to read the tags/read at your own discretion, because if I receive any hate mail, I might evaporate. I hope you all enjoy!

Nighttime. 

It’s so beautiful, and you’ve always thought that.

The vast expanse of deep blue, littered with the tiniest pockmarks of silver stars. The glittering, heavenly fabric hanging in the sky, beckoning for you to reach out your fingers, learn its deepest secrets. 

And the people. The kinds of people the night attracts. They’re certainly something else.

You would easily consider yourself one of those people. As you gaze out the windows of your luxurious apartment, the floor to ceiling panes of glass reveal every beautiful detail. The winking lights of city skyscrapers, glimmer of people dolled up for a night out, all reminds you of the stars against the night sky. It’s beautiful, and a small part of you longs to abandon your current company, leave your apartment, and join the late night excitement of the city. 

Though, the high rise view and promises of nighttime adventures aren’t nearly as beautiful as him. 

Leon

He’s on your bed right now, silky black sheets a stark contrast to his skin, and the deep red restraints he wears. The tantalizing crossing of red rope over every curve and inch of his musculature makes you quickly dismiss any idea of leaving him. Not when he’s like this. 

This certainly isn’t an unusual predicament for you or Leon to find yourselves in, given your proclivity for your specific tastes, as well as Leon’s need for his. Though, you’re no stranger to dishing out this kind of attention, it certainly did surprise you when Leon asked you to do this. In fact, when the words had left his lips, you nearly had to double take, not entirely sure that it was Leon sitting before you. In the majority of the time you two had spent together, he had a habit of being a little shit. An attractive little shit, but a little shit nonetheless. He was always eager to tease you, smug and sultry at the same time, rattling off little quips and taunts, regardless of whether or not he was fucking you or eating you out. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t downright excited for the opportunity to both simultaneously dote on and punish Leon.

Now, here you are, standing stark naked as his eyes trail hotly over your body, the need to reach out and touch you reflected in his gaze.

Soft hums of irritation leave him as your eyes rake over his body slowly, though the ball gag in his mouth muffles them substantially. However, his hard cock twitches and kicks, telling you everything you need to know. As exasperated as he is at your lack of attention to his cock, he likes it as well. You let out a soft, sultry laugh at his reactions to the little waiting game you’ve been playing, earning another little indignant huff from him. 

Maybe you’ll play with your food a little longer.

Slinking, you move closer to the bed, and rummage around in the nightstand. Having held off on giving him attention for a while, you can practically feel the intensity of Leon’s eyes burning into you, anticipations running high as you find what you’re looking for.

Out from the expanse of your nightstand drawer comes a long, thin, black stick. One end has a cushioned handle and wrist strap, while the other has a thick, folded piece of leather sewn to it. Perfect for what you want, given Leon lets out another noise, a grunt of anticipation of what’s to come. Your eyes are on him, gaze all heavy and saccharine as you get onto the bed, crawling languidly up his body to reach behind his head and undo the ball gag in his mouth, a string of spit following along.

“Took you long enough..” Leon grumbles, panting a little and stretching his jaw to soothe the ache from the ball gag, as you scoot back on the bed to get a better view of him.

In a flash, you bring the riding crop down on his balls, causing the skin to tighten. Precum beads at the tip of his cock, which kicks and jerks at the spark of pain. Leon groans, a choked sound that bleeds into a whimper, and he arches off the bed for a moment.

“God, fuck sweetheart. You’re killin’ me here…” He whines softly, hips twitching from the aftershocks.

“Well, you know better than to complain.” You murmur, a smirk settling on your lips, your hands reaching up to smooth some hair out of his eyes.

Leon notices you admiring the pretty shade of blue his eyes are, taking advantage of your distraction to turn his head to the side and playfully nip at your fingers. A soft grunt follows as he pines for your attention, feeling needy beyond all belief-

THWIP

“Hng! G-God you-!” Leon chokes out, not getting to finish his sentence as another sinful whimper of pain leaves him as you bring the riding crop down yet again on his balls, giving them a couple of hits in quick succession. His head is tossed back, lip worried between his teeth, the flush on his cheeks spreading to the tips of his ears and down his neck. Complaint after complaint can leave his lips, but you know it’s all just an act, that he’s just being bratty for the fun of it.

Deciding to tease him some more, you feather the riding crop all over his cock, finding it hard not to when he reacts so deliciously to it. Leon’s cock twitches and thighs quiver when you tease the crop over his tender balls, tracing veins on the underside of his shaft, and bring it up to just tease the edge of the head. 

Ever the glutton for punishment, he bucks his hips, trying to grind his cock against the riding crop for some relief while he chokes out ‘let me just-’

THWIP

Once more, you bring the riding crop down - hard - this time on the tip of his cock. Leon moans and grunts, body tensing at the mix of pain and pleasure, especially when you start to grind the riding crop against the head and slit. Precum smears obscenely, and a string forms when you finally pull the riding crop away, making him shudder and whine.

“How cute…” You tease, only a hint of meanness in your words. 

You give him one more hard smack to the tip of his cock, making Leon suck in a sharp breath of air through his clenched teeth, before teasing it up and away from his cock. You drag the leather of the riding crop sensually through the hairs of his happy trail, across his abs as well, taking delight in the way his muscles ripple and skin contracts at the sensation.

Feeling yourself growing more and more aroused, you’ve decided you’ve had enough, ready to satiate the ache between your legs. Tossing the riding crop somewhere to the ground off the side of the bed, you crawl back up his body, far enough that your mouth is close to his cock. He twitches once more, eyes alight with a needy anticipation now. 

Mischief gleaming in your eyes, you lower your mouth, giving his tip small kitten licks. Leon groans softly at your ministrations, especially when you take your time to press the tip of your tongue into his slit. 

“F-Fuck. That’s so–” He murmurs, biting his lip, muscles straining against the rope as he fights off the urge to buck up into your mouth. Leon knows he’s close to getting the touch he so desperately needs, so he’s certainly more eager to play nice now. 

Knowing you have him right where you want him, you scrape your teeth across his tip, biting down softly. You’re exerting enough pressure that Leon makes a funny little noise, bordering on a squeal almost as a mix of light fear and heavy arousal floods through him. 

Growing a little impatient yourself, you give a couple of teasing nips to his shaft and balls, Leon letting out the prettiest little gasps all the wild. He’s always been pretty vocal, but the noises he’s making tonight are downright sinful and have you feeling hot and bothered.

Finally, you move up, settling yourself on top of him. Sat just below his cock, you start eyeing him a little, making him let out a low rumble. 

“Finally ready, now?” Leon teases, the beginning of a smug smile forming on his face. Grabbing the ball gag, you dangle it teasingly above his face.

“Don’t make me put this back on you…” You threaten, not entirely planning on following through, given you love hearing all the little noises Leon makes. He looks a little irritated, but ultimately doesn’t respond.

“Good boy…” You tease, a wicked grin on your face as you rise up, starting to stroke Leon’s cock, slow and teasing like everything else you’ve done this evening.

He’s not quite ready to give in and beg yet, lips clamped shut as he breathes sharply through his nose, brow knitting as you languidly jerk him off. Humming softly as more precum beads from the tip, slicking your hand up as you pump him, you pick up the pace a little and squeeze ever so lightly. A little pant and a low groan leave Leon as you pick up the pace even more, before you slow down again, making him toss his head back in frustration especially when you squeeze his shaft again.

“Please! Fuck I– I’ve been so good, haven’t I-” Leon whimpers, and grits his teeth as you shift to hover right above his cock, cutting him off by teasingly rubbing him against your entrance.

“Oh fuck…guess I kept you and me waiting long enough, hm?” You murmur sultrily, moaning out when you start to sink down on Leon's cock, getting stretched out as you take him, inch by inch. 

“H-Hah! Just like that– shit–” Leon chokes out, already entirely too sensitive from the teasing he’s been through. He’s kicking and twitching inside you, filling you up and just grazing the most sensitive parts as you bottom out. 

You stay seated for a moment, taking a moment to get used to the feel of him inside you. It didn’t register just how needy you had been as well, too swept up in toying with the man beneath you. Silence stretches between you for a beat, as you both pant softly, before it’s broken by the minute sound of skin on skin as you begin to ride him. Setting a tantalizingly slow pace, you raise up, only to drop down, both of you moaning out now in sync as you begin to lose yourself in the pleasure. 

“Mhm, s-so  good for me, taking what I give you…” You rasp out, starting to pick up the pace a little, pleasure coiling low in your gut. Leon’s feeling it as well, telltale in the way he’s trembling slightly, fighting off the urge to fuck up into your wet heat with reckless abandon. 

“Shit, g’nna make me come early if you keep talking like that…” He whines, looking already like a fucked out mess, a flush settled on his cheeks and his pretty blue eyes clouded over with need. 

Unable to muster up a response, you’re too lost in the drag of his cock against your insides, especially when you grind down particularly hard. The tip of his cock hits just right, pressing up against that sensitive spot, where you find yourself rapidly losing restraint.

The clapping of skin fills the room, the smell of sweat as well as you pick up the pace. Leon’s all too happy when you lean down, sloppily kissing him, soft lips messy and needy against your own. His cock throbs when you start to kiss along his jawline, nipping and biting your way to his neck to leave a smattering of love bites.

“God, m’so close, please.” Leon gasps, panting loudly now, strained noises leaving him as his stomach tenses, not far behind you for release. 

“Yes, God, did so well. Go ahead and come in me.” You whine, walls fluttering around him as your own orgasm starts to creep up on you. 

“Please!” Leon grunts, the sound so unabashed and needy, it sends a bolt of arousal down your spine.

With a cry of your own, you clench down hard around Leon, walls fluttering as they practically milk Leon. Leon comes with a rumble, grunting and gasping as he spills inside you, hot and sticky. You bounce a few more times, drawing out both of your orgasms, before you settle on his lap, basking in the afterglow. 

It doesn’t take you long to relax, fully slipping off of Leon with a hiss, undoing the rope tying him up. Once freed, he stretches out on the bed, rolling over to face you. There’s a mixture of mischief and heat in his eyes, a coy smile playing on his lips as he scoots closer to you. His hot breath washes over your face, and a lone hand ghosts up and down your side teasingly, featherlight and sensual.

“So, your turn next?”

⋄✧⋄

[bangaveragewhitewine]

Wanna be with you everywhere

Surrounded by your earthly possessions, boxes upon boxes stacked and looming over you in your new home, you don’t know where to start. Steve reminds you that the most important thing is right in front of you (and has a box of his own for you to open). 

Word Count: 2.7k

Content / Warnings: This is fairly tame and sweet. Reader is overtired and overwhelmed, but other than that - total fluff. Moving in together, a brief sex mention, Steve being romantic and totally down bad for reader. Maybe a big question is on the cards, idk. 

Reader is referred to with one gendered honourific. (No spoilers…👀) I have tried to leave physical descriptions as neutral and inclusive as possible 🧡

If you are not 18+ please do press the back button

Author’s Note: Once again, soft Steve Harrington has invaded my brain. This is pretty short and sweet. Oh to feel safe and loved in his big beefy arms, amirite?

I hope you enjoy! Thank you for the love on Clean Slate & Pinch Me recently - it means a lot!!! Once again I had way too much fun on Canva... Let me know what you think / if you catch any typos!

Please do not do any AI fuckery with my work or repost on other sites.

Boxes. Heavy, full and labelled with a blocky scrawl. They are everywhere, stacked by the coffee table you had thrifted, the big squishy armchair for you to read in. You haven’t seen so many since your high school weekend job filling shelves and scanning groceries and wearing your customer service smile until your cheeks ached. 

The smell of fresh paint and cardboard combined with the dry feeling that the boxes left on your hands makes you want to peel your skin off. You look around the room with your hands pressing into the small of your back while you stack more tasks on your mental to-do list. The room was empty a few hours ago, a total blank canvas. 

The floor calls, grounding you.

With a sigh that pulls from the tips of your toes, you lie back against the cool wood and stretch your arms out by your sides. This is where the couch will go when it arrives. You close your eyes and feel the all-over ache from packing, carrying and lifting. Before the carrying and lifting was days of packing and organising.

That’s when it dawns on you - you still need to unpack them all.

Tears push themselves up and you feel your ugly-cry face break the dazed-but-happy expression you had been wearing all day. All you want is a hot shower and your comfy new bed. And -

“Hey.”

Steve.

Your dry hands cover your face, swiping your wet cheeks as your boyfriend closes the door - the door to your first apartment together - and navigates his way around the boxes to get to you. His presence cuts short your catastrophising.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” he asks, sounding almost panicked. “Do you hate it? I know the paint dried a little darker than we thought, but we can redo it. It’ll be okay.” Steve is quick to join you on the floor, lying on his side by you with one arm wrapped over your shaking body. “Babe…”

When you move your hands to look at Steve’s concerned face, you see that he looks as tired as you feel. Despite that, he’s still the most gorgeous person you have ever seen. His hair is crushed under a backwards baseball cap and there’s pizza sauce on his tshirt. His deodorant and aftershave has long worn off but you let him hold you, lying half on top of him on the floor, not ready or able to speak yet. Big hard-working hands sweep soothingly up and down your back. Steve’s good at that, letting you just cry it out, holding you steady and safe when you need to weep. He always seems to know what you need; a distraction or silence, gentle words or just the steady thud of his heart against your ear. 

Despite the sweat and dust, Steve presses kisses to your forehead as you slowly settle. The fact that he’s so handsome and nice to you makes you sob shakily one more time. 

“Just breathe, you’re okay.” 

Steve is calm, but you know that inside that he’s wracking his brains to get to the bottom of why the love of his life was crying in the middle of their brand new apartment while he was waving off the friends who had helped you move. Had he said something stupid, was the paint really that ugly… Steve didn’t let his mind even go near the idea that you might be second guessing moving in together.

When he sees you peering up at him, his heart beats double time like it always does when you look at him. His attention is back on you now, out of his own head. You can see the cogs turning in his head and feel worse for making him worry about you, feel insecure or like he was the reason for your tears. 

“Hi,” you whisper. “Sorry. Overwhelmed.” 

“Don’t say sorry, honey. It’s okay.” 

You rest your cheek on his chest again. His tshirt is stained wet from your tears now too but Steve doesn’t care.

You lie together on the floor, both aching and bone tired. From somewhere, you summon the energy to  squeeze Steve as tight as possible, needing him to know how much you adore him. He makes a small happy noise before returning the squish. 

“We’re here,” you murmur against his chest, before you free each other to lie side by side in the golden glow coming from the big un-curtained windows. 

“Here we are. Welcome home, baby,” Steve says, turning his head to look at you again. He covers your hand and stroked his thumb over your racing pulse. “What’s going on in that big juicy brain of yours, huh?” 

“Ew.” You laugh, wincing when your body reminds you that it has clocked out for the day, and meet Steve’s gaze. “All the boxes freaked me out. We still need to unpack everything, and the couch won’t fit if we don’t get some of them out of here -” Your voice shakes and catches and you make yourself take one slow deep breath. Steve squeezes you once, no rush. “I’m just so fucking tired, Stevie.” 

Steve gives you a little smile. “I bet. You’ve been running the show today, making sure everything is perfect.” Steve had been up before you, excited to get going, and had spent the day lugging boxes with Eddie, never letting you take the heavy ones. You had caught yourself staring at how his biceps bulged deliciously a couple of times - Steve had caught you too and made sure to come give you some kisses when his hands were free. And he had checked in with you, not wanting you to get too caught up in making everything perfect or taking on too much of the responsibility - you were just better organised than him. The brains to his brawn, though he knew you didn’t like when he thought like that.

He sits up, then stands, groaning like a man older than his twenty-odd years. He holds out his hands to help you up, and he puts his arms around you once you’re upright. 

“Everything’s where it needs to be. You and Nance had that list. Everything’s all colour coded.” You had both been armed with coloured markers and sticky notes to make sure the boxes were in the right rooms. “What’s the word? It’s meticulous, baby.” You can hear a smile in Steve’s low soft voice; he’s proud of himself for remembering and of you, for everything. It helps ease the tension bunched in your shoulders. 

He kisses your head with a fierce amount of love. “It doesn’t need to be perfect right away okay? We’re in this together and we’ll figure it out. All that matters is you and me, yeah? You and me in our first place together. S’already perfect for me.” 

Your heart hurts with how much love it holds for Steve Harrington. He’s right; all that matters is the two of you, boxes of bed sheets and belongings be damned. 

Steve starts a slow sway, his fingers tucked into the belt loops on the back of your old jeans as you settle your hands on the base of his neck. He hums a song you both loved, one that had come on the radio in a moment of pure fate when you started the short drive from his old place to your new one together. 

I want to be with you everywhere…

The smile Steve had graced upon you then was like pure gold and you turned the volume up loud, rolling down the windows as you sang together.

Now you feel his smile, wide and lovely, against your temple and peel back to look up at his face. “What’s the smile for, handsome?” 

“M’happy.” You see that boyish twinkle in his eyes, and when he smiles Steve looks so innocently happy, the little boy who had to grow up too quickly. You press up on your toes, ignoring the burn in your feet to lessen the gap between you. He is quick to meet you halfway and accepts the kiss you land on his smiling mouth. Steve’s joy is contagious and he is as generous sharing it with you as he is with his kisses. 

“I’m happy too, promise.” Foreheads pressed together, you close your eyes and let the calm feeling wash over you as Steve starts the sway again. You’re pressed together, head to toe.

“S’okay if you’re not. You don’t have to say you are if you feel shitty.” Steve’s voice tickles your cheek and he chases it with a kiss there. 

“I am. We’re going to be so happy here, Steve. I love this place.” You feel the truth of your words deep in your bones, beyond your aches and pains. “Love you.”

Your words make his heart zing. “Love you more,” he whispers, nudging your nose with his own as he kisses his way back to your lips. “M’happy with you wherever we are, I just want to be with you.” 

As you hold each other, swaying in the setting sunlight, you let the thought of unpacking shrink and enjoy the moment, calmness washing over you like a balm. Over the next few weeks and days you and Steve will place your things side by side, hang up pictures and clothes and fill the blank canvas. You’ll try the diner down the block for breakfast in the morning as a treat, and do your first grocery shop together. You have already promised each other that you’ll have sex in every room to christen the place (Steve’s idea, you loved it) and in a week or two you’ll invite your friends around for a party. You’ll make up the spare room for when the kids who aren’t kids anymore come to visit. There’s no rush, you have the rest of your lives to feather your nest together, find a bigger one when you’re ready.

You breathe him in, finding that scent that is simply Steve behind the fresh paint and sweat and the lingering smell of the pizza you shared with your best friends to say thank you for their help - the first party of many in your home together. 

Steve presses his love into you with his kisses and stroking hands, thinking of the only box that matters to him; a small ring-box housing soft gold and sparkling jewels that reminded him of you. It’s not in any of the cardboard towers, or the overnight bags with the basics for your first night and morning. The little green velvet box sits heavy in his back pocket, plucked from the Beemers glove compartment while he was waving Eddie and the girls off (all of them had whispered their good luck while they hugged Steve fiercely tight).

Seeing you in tears made him second guess his timing, but as he sways with you now he couldn’t be more sure that you’re the one he wants to marry. 

“Hey. Lemme take a picture of us,” he whispers, “The disposable still has a few shots left on it. Stay there.”

“Steve I look so gross,” you whine - but you have to admit it’s a sweet suggestion. His lips meet yours and he pecks the pout away. 

“You’re beautiful,” he says in a murmur against your lips. “We can show our grandkids someday. You’n me, young and cool in our first place together.” 

Steve’s heart beats double time at your grin and he makes your nose scrunch up when he dots kisses all over your face. “Wait there. The light is..” He kisses his own fingers with an over exaggerated ‘mwah’. 

He leaves you laughing as he dodges boxes on the way to quadruple check the ring and fetch the camera. 

You had both been snapping pictures all day, pictures that would end up in a photo album with little annotations of the date and who was in each shot; Steve & Robin hugging outside their apartment before hopping in the moving van, Eddie in an Iron Maiden tee with the sleeves cut off sticking his tongue out as he carried a box under one arm, you and Nancy deep in conversation on the sidewalk, you and Steve stealing a kiss in the empty kitchen (Nancy was stealthy with that one). There were three clicks left.

When Steve arrives back you’re poking through a box of books and thinking about how you’re going to stack them on the shelves (which will be dropped off tomorrow). Your smile when you see him lights up the room already glowing with the setting sun. You both think ‘how’d I ever get this lucky’ and find your way to each other, sharing another kiss before getting your picture taken. 

Steve stands in front of the windows, tucking you under his arm as you both make the most of the golden light illuminating your tired smiling faces. After the click, he rolls the film on. 

His heart beats hard and quick with anticipation, but he’s not nervous - he has never been so sure of a decision in his entire life. You are the one; his one.

Steve places the camera on the windowsill before taking your hands. “You’re the love of my life y’know?” 

You look up and nod, squeezing his hands. “Mhm. And you’re mine. I love you so much I could scream.” You mean it too, thinking about how you could open up the window right now and shout to the city that you love Steve Michael Harrington. 

He presses a single soft kiss to your forehead. “The best day of my life was the day you smiled at me in that little dive bar, baby. Ever since then, I knew I was a goner.” He brushes his thumb over the back of your hand. “I don’t ever want anyone else. Waking up next to you every day, and going to sleep with you every night... I feel like I’m dreamin’ sometimes. Like, how’d I get this lucky?” Steve squeezes your hands three times ‘I love you’. “You’re my love, my best friend.” 

Your face hurts from smiling, about to quip that you promise not to tell Robin or Eddie, but instead you see Steve lowering himself down onto the floorboards - dropped down on one knee. 

For a moment your mind goes blank until you see that little green velvet box, which he flicks open to show you the ring inside. 

Steve says your name so quietly as he gazes up at you, “Will you marry me?” 

All capacity for speech evades you. Your focus is all on Steve, barely comprehending the gorgeous ring winking at you in his hands. Every cell of your body is screaming S T E V E. You manage to nod as more tears press and push up and spill down your cheeks. 

You let him take your hand to slide the ring on. A perfect fit. If you could think straight you would remember one of your favourite rings going missing for a week a while back - the culprit kneeling in front of you.

You pull him up this time, crushing your body to his as you babble ‘yes!’ a thousand times, even as he kisses you with his own wet cheeks pressing to yours. 

Everything feels soft around the edges, luminous and dreamlike, as you see Steve and his smile and his love for you in bright high definition. You take his face in your hands - the left one ever so slightly heavier now - and you bring your faces together. 

“Hi Future Mrs Harrington,” he whispers, each syllable filled with an almost-giggly bubbling joy. 

“Hi Mr Harrington,” you whisper back, feeling his hands squeezing your hips. You kiss him again, smiling too much to make it last pass a few slow romantic pecks and you’re just holding each other, glowing. 

In that moment everything is perfect, your previous sense of total overwhelm replaced by utter joy. Tired and still a little sweaty, dust on your jeans and your hair coming undone, you’re still the most beautiful creature Steve Harrington has ever laid eyes on - even more so now with the promise on your hand. 

Steve reaches out to take up the camera again. “Still got two more. Engagement pic for the grandkids?” he asks, and you practically squeal with delight when you realise he had it all planned. 

As he angles the camera in front of you both, hoping the light is still okay and that he’s not chopping off his own head, you hold your ring up to make sure it’s in frame. That picture, and the next one of you two sharing a kiss with diamonds glimmering in the dipping sunlight, will take pride of place in that little album of the day you moved in together, the day Steve Harrington asked you to marry him. 

Likes, comments and reblogs are absolutely cherished and adored!

Bonus next day diner breakfast Steve for the girlies - thank you for reading 🩷

[evilfloralfoolery]

Love Bites: A Tale of Indulgent Preternatural Fuckery

I was going to wait until morning to post this, but fuck it. I make my own rules. Please enjoy some poncy ass fetish fuckery between 324 year old French vampire Lucian d'Alarie and his far more modern 82 year old, tattooed werewolf lover, Marrok Rafe.

Guess which one has "the thing."

*This story already has multiple parts that I may or not post. It depends on a few factors.

_____________________________

“Lucian?? Lucian!! Where are you hiding??”

Somewhere from the other side of the ridiculous estate, his beloved is bellowing in a manner that would wake the dead.  Or, in Lucian’s case, the undead. 

- I am not hiding.  You are simply blinded by whatever rage has a hold upon you. -

He bursts through the door.  The balcony door.  From outside of it.  Marrok never did appreciate the simplicity and ease a door offered.

“Get out of my head.”  Marrok’s voice is a flat growl, a rumble far too low to be human.  

Because he is not.  

“And how else would you hear me, hmm?  With all of your grandiose nonsense.  Mon dieu, Marrok.  I realize that we have no neighbors, but–” 

“What. Happened.”  Again, not a question.  A demand of sorts.  

Lucian does not grant him an answer at his impatient behest.  Instead, he takes a moment to appreciate the feral being before him.  Lean and well-muscled with shoulders even broader than his own, skin bronzed from the sun, and adorned with a myriad of tattoos, Marrok looks every bit the part of the apex predator that he truly is. The topmost portion of his rather absurd length of jagged jet black hair is pulled tight by some manner of elastic, revealing the tips of his pointed ears and the shaved sides of his head beneath.

There was a time when Lucian found such a thing appalling.  But it suited Marrok on many levels.

“I am not certain.”  Lucian sinks down into one of the wingback chairs near the now flung-open balcony doors, just beyond the reach of the sun’s rays.  “I feel . . . strange.  Like a mortal does when nursing the beginnings of an illness.”

Marrok folds his arms with a disgruntled frown, the permanent artwork that resides there flexing with the movement.  “That doesn’t happen to your kind or mine.”

“Not necessarily.  We do not know everything, you and I.  Perhaps–”

“No.” Marrok cuts him off.  “It’s not fucking possible.” 

Lucian pinches the bridge of his nose between two fingers with a wince.  Not only is his head pounding like a drum, but an incessant prickle also resides there.  The nuisance saw fit to surge to a burn at times, causing a far greater inconvenience, one that he rarely dealt with, unless too much sunlight were involved.

Which was not currently the issue at the moment.  However, that knowledge did little to placate the persistent tingling itch.  After several attempts at fending it off, Lucian resigns himself to his fate, tugging a handkerchief from the pocket of his trousers and making good use of it.

“HhhehISSSSHHIIU!” 

“ExcusehhhISSCH! ISSCHHuh!---hhhuuh . . . !  Hhhh . . .!”

Ungodly, wretched misery of a—

He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment and exhales a slow, steadying breath.  “Très désolée.  I . . . have not the control to manage this.” 

“This is bullshit!”  Marrok looks as if he would rather cast himself in the confines of the fountain from the third story balcony than exist in this current shared space. “You can't be–” he gestures with an exasperated flurry of fingers “--that!”

Lucian arches an eyebrow. “Unwell?”

“Don’t.” Marrok tears away the band holding the layers of his thick hair with a snap of elastic.

Sprigs of haphazard darkness jut from his scalp in an almost comical defiance and Lucian morphs a laugh into a cough on purpose. 

“This isn't funny, Lucian.” The words are more of a growl, rumbling and full of an intent to intimidate. 

If anything actually served to intimidate Lucian. 

“And yet, here we are.” 

“No, there you are. We are not doing this.”

“You speak as if I had some choice in the matter.” 

Marrok is two centimeters from his person in half as many seconds. “You did this to yourself. I don't know how you did it, but you did.” 

Lucian rises to his feet with an almost bored aire. “Accusational hysteria does not suit you, mon cher.” 

Clawed fingers snatch at the lapels of his shirt. “Don't patronize me, you French fuck.” 

“Is that what you desire, then?” Lucian slides his hands to cup the snarling visage between his palms. “Some French fuck?”

He casts the other “man” a smirk that  promises seduction, but not without a staggering dosage of smug upper handedness.  And clearly, Marrok isn't entertaining anything of the sort. 

“Get off me.” He gives Lucian a rough, but far lighter shove than anticipated. 

The werewolf stalks over to the ornate bookcase, scans several titles, and swears when he realizes whatever he desires is near the topmost part of it.  Not that this hinders him in any way.  Marrok simply jumps, snatches his preferred literature from its resting place, and rebounds off of the wall to land effortlessly back onto his feet.

“Whatever are you doing?”

“Research,” Marrok grunts.  

He flops down into the chair formerly occupied by Lucian and begins leafing through the text while Lucian has a seat upon the bed.

“Marrok.” Lucian gestures with one hand. “Come to me.” 

The werewolf doesn't look up from his reading. “No.” 

“S’il vous plaît, mon cher.  I am so very cold.”

Marrok turns a page. “You're dead. Comes with the territory.” 

“Do you not think that I am incapable of feeling a draft simply because I am no longer mortal?” 

“That’s right,” Marrok says.  “And you know that shit.” 

Well. One had ways of changing that type of attitude, especially with the omnipresent twinge dwelling deep within his sinuses. The simple act of breathing would be enough. Not that one such as Lucian needed the trappings of this rather human inconvenience, but even the undead still functioned in a similar fashion, needed or not. 

He allows his breathing to slow, for his breath to hitch, and makes a show of fumbling for his handkerchief as his expression dissolves into abject helplessness.

“Hhh-hiiih. . .! HiihhISSSSHU–ISSSCH! . . . HhIKGSSCH-UUH!”

He buries his nose in the crumpled fabric, shoulders shuddering, unbound hair curtaining his face.

The book snaps closed. Footsteps that are more of a marching stomp approach. 

“You did that on purpose.” 

Judging by how much of that sentence is coated in the most inhuman of growls, Marrok is more than merely ruffled. He is infuriated beyond measure. 

“I assure you that I did n–”

Marrok is atop him, pinning him to the mattress. 

“You did.”  The werewolf snarls against his mouth and fangs graze his lips. “But I'm fresh out of fucks.” 

“Mmm, are you?” Lucian reaches between his legs with a most uncouth clenching of fingers around Marrok’s most sensitive attributes. “What a shame that would be.” He snatches handfuls of the thin, black cotton shirt Marrok is so fond of and jerks him against his chest hard enough to elicit a grunt from his lover. “Je veux te baiser.” 

“Hope you don't like these pants.” Marrok's nails slash the well-stitched fabric to indecent ribbons before Lucian can answer.

“Such violence in you.” Lucian flashes him a hint of his own fangs, different from that of a werewolf, but equally as lethal. “It is a quality I find most captivating.” 

The dark yellow of Marrok’s eyes is near amber. “Stop talking.”

__________________________________________________________

(TBC or no?)

[sm1l3r-1]

Story Time ✍️

Excuuuuuuuuussssseeee me!!!

What in the fuckery fucking fucktown is going on right now ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!😳😳😳🫣🫣🫣🫠

Some mystical god has the audacity to come over and bonk me on the head with the “Flustered bat” 🫣😳🫣😳🫣😳

Brief summary:

I’ve been talking to this girl for a while and we are working towards being in a relationship. She lives local to me, we see each other often and we get along really well. Great banta, good laughs and enjoy each other’s company.

Story:

I’ve texted her to see if she needed picking up from work, she said yes so I got changed and ready to meet her. Picked her up everything was going normally, chatting away and having laughs. I pull up to the road where I usually drop her off, we sat there chatting about things that happened during our days. We spoke about past relationships and experiences, me being single 6 years I didn’t have much to say so I sat there listening and engaging in her conversations. She spoke about a past person who had a kink that had her questioning why she had met him, so we sat there chatting about it and laughing just at the random things he’d brought (no judgement we all have our own kinks).

While we was on the topics of kinks I had said to her I do have two, however I quickly questioned myself in my mind why I said that, so I then apologised and said I didn’t want to tell her about having kinks until we was together as it’s a private matter. She then started to try and guess what mine was by listing the ones she knew, I thought to myself “she shouldn’t be able to guess mine” but nooooooo 😂 I was wrong she guessed my first kink pretty much right away to which I tried to play it off cool and said “no” (she’s none the wiser on this one).

She carried on listing more, she was asking “is it dangerous?” “Is it BDSM?” And a long list of others to which I said it actually quite a safe kink, no harm is done, she would potentially enjoy it and it can be fun. But little did I know that gave her options to start guessing with those criteria’s 😂🫣😳🫣😳

Out of now where! She asks “is it tickling?” I just go silent 🫣😳🫣😳 then just a huuuugggeee wave of fluster hits me 🫣🫣 I go bright red ( it’s dark out, no lights on in my car so she couldn’t see my face) I’ve never ever been so caught off guard and flustered in my life 🫣🫣 I just broke, I didn’t know how to form sentences or what to say as she just outed me 🫣 like fuuuuucccckkkk what do I do 😂😂😳😳🫣🫣

I just sat there awkwardly as this has never happened before I was so baffled at the same time. After a few minutes we spoke again I was trying my best to play it off cool as she kept questioning why I’d gone silent. (I couldn’t just admit to it that’s too easy 😂) I managed to play it off by pretending that she had previously outed me while laughing randomly as I was still flustered and baffled 🫣😳

We managed to do our usual hugs goodbye and I drove home but on the way home I was hit again by the “flustered bat” 😂 and started to get excited and flustered all at the same time so I opened my window and just started screaming and laughing as that’s all I felt because I was so flustered 🫣😳🫠🫠 it felt like something was in my throat that could only be stopped by just screaming and laughing loudly 😳🫣😂😂

I then decided to play some hype tunes to distract myself from it all on the way home but all I could think about was what just happened 🫣😳😂

The End

I’m so confused by what happened that I knew tumblr in the tword community would enjoy this, so please enjoy!

Annnnndddd a fuuuuccckkkaaa you “Flustered Bat” 😂🫣😳

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 3/19/2024

boy hope i never run out of zelda games to play or my mental health is going to Tank. there are very vague endgame stuff spoilers (not where zelda is, but some of the time fuckery) but i am going to spoil a bit of the rito sage quest. nothing is rot-13'ed. i feel like that's a fair compromise since this game has been out for about a year? please let me know YOUR opinions on recent game spoilers

listening

Thanks A Lot But No Thanks from the 1955 musical It's Always Fair Weather, sung by Dolores Grey. this was Dolores Grey propaganda in the @hotvintagepoll. i love a sugar baby song and this is sort of an. anti-sugar-baby song? a satitrical sugar baby song? she thanks suitors for increasingly improbable gifts (the state of Maine, et al) before killing them??

the PIPES on this woman!!! the comedic timing!!! she pulls out a gun and shoots suitors dead while thanking them for an autographed picture of john wayne!!! she pulls a big lever and they all fall under the stage!!! ive been having kind of a Time in the depths of unemployment and this made me genuinely laugh (not one short sharp bark of laughter, full on cackling).

thanks for the darling uranium mine indeed

reading

the moonstone by wilkie collins (and philip). this has been my falling asleep reading book. this is decidedly not a cozy mystery but the stakes are not like. so high i have to keep reading through the night to find out what happens. i'm having a good time with it, currently about halfway and still very irritated with rachel, the main character right now. i have not revised my "spoiled brat" opinion and i look forward to seeing if i ever revise it.

-

watching

The Three Musketeers (2011, dir. Paul W.S. Anderson). thank you mackintosh (this is a discard from my hometown library and no one needs to know where that is thanks). it's pretty widely available on free platforms rn which is how you know it's good. it's not Good is the thing but it is extremely fun. it is straight up the three musketeers but with an airship. milla jovovich jumps off an airship into the channel. milla jovovich does some assassins creed shit. luke evans does some assassins creed shit. there is an airship fight and an airship chase. it is So cheesy and unfortunately never got another sequel. it also inexplicably has some of the finest cinematic swordfighting since the golden age of hollywood.

this was a really successful impromptu movie night pick for a more widely varied gang than usual, including some teens. my bestie also enjoyed it, which i am So pleased by bc she has extremely exacting movie taste. this cast is so stacked for no good reason: orlando bloom, luke evans, christoph waltz, mads mikkelsen, matthew macfayden...

-

playing

i have a post in my head about breath of the wild and tears of the kingdom and their dialogue with each other about loss and grief, but i think that's going to have to wait until i have a little bit more brainpower. perhaps i can talk a little bit about how they make me feel about loss and grief, and how i was upset for zelda and her hundred-year siege in the last one but i am so so so desperately sad for zelda in tears of the kingdom.

i played through breath of the wild with a constant background sense of loss and grief. this is only partially due to the real-life severe depression and joblessness. i think this is a personal brain thing and not a game thing, but i did feel guilty when fucking around in breath of the wild and not actively doing main quests to save zelda. like i would look at the castle off in the distance and feel kind of bad. the champions (and zelda!) telling link as soon as physically possible that it wasn't his fault made me cry in real life every time. i get it's like a month max of in-universe time between games, but it still feels like he has once again missed SO much. i think this is sort of a larger symptom of depression in that i look at [REDACTED] in tears of the kingdom and get a bit hopeless about [REDACTED] and it's like. well i might as well go pick golden apples and not do main quests. time is meaningless.

i am really glad they kept the shrine of resurrection on the plateau in tears of the kingdom. if that hadn't been there i the player would have felt very unmoored. i cannot begin to think how unreal and depersonalized it would have made link feel.

enough of that! the hero's path function is so funny. there are such huge swathes of the map i looked at and said No Thanks! Not Yet!

my depths map is even funnier. eight lightroots so far. no thank you! too scary still! i thought until VERY RECENTLY that all the caves and wells led to the depths and was avoiding them. mistake! cool shit in caves and wells! some horrible boys as well but they are vastly outnumbered by the cool shit.

the rito sage quest fucked SO severely. i had so much fucking fun with that boss fight even though it took me a real life two hours to get up to the arena with the puzzles to unlock the boss fight. i also surprised myself and did not have to look up how to beat any of the puzzles or the boss! just entered a state of flow and looked up and it was three hours later! i know a lot of people are very grumpy about how this was not a totally new game with a totally new map, but i have nothing but praise for the mechanics in this completely new section. knocked my socks off. made me think but wasn't too frustrating. made me use all my powers and all my weapon types. it was simply a great deal of almost frictionless fun! some over the top sick as shit stuff that is the whole point of video games as a medium imo

unlocked all the geoglyphs and i am Upset. i am UPSET.

and now for some horse talk (TM): i kept the very first horse i caught out of nostalgia even though these stats are not very good. i think the naming scheme for this game will be H (the last game was C). the breath of the wild giant ganon horse is so funny. you can't do shit with this horse. you can't change the mane. you can't change the tack. you can't increase his stats. he's just There. Large.

tangential horse talk: why is this lynel in the wetlands. his feathering and fetlocks are going to rot off. he is going to founder

some places ASCEND works where i didn't expect it to: tree. water you can stand in.

i stumbled across the last power completely accidentally while trying to deliver some eyes to a mysterious god and this was so fucking funny. i DID throw this guy down a big pit in the last game and he never came back. i forgot about that.

also people were fucking gaga for rauru but why didn't i see people talking about either of these two last summer on this, the -girl affix site and the scruffy shredded boy site

some other bits and bobs:

i was so annoyed patricia was part of the compendium in the last game i fucking got her this time ok

very hashtag relatable languages moment

unrelated to either of those things, i have done the gerudo sage quest except for the boss battle and i missed two huge swathes of hashtag tunnel gameplay (going to find riju through the tunnels. simply went overland) and getting to the central temple chamber (simply used ascend). whoops

there's a little tower concept art piece in purah's room in the ancient lab! that's a fun little touch i really love, it really helps differentiate the games and show changes in the overworld between games in a very cheap and east way for the devs

bc i play these games like dressup simulators, i also want to note that misko's tents are also really fun, they really feel like they're from a much earlier era and i'm stumbling across an untouched archaeological site

-

making

garden update: growing along okay, it has been so so so wet lately and i should have bitten the bullet and bought the big expensive bag of perlite, the drainage is not terrific. i should elevate all the planters and that would help a bit too. tomatoes are bit leggy, i moved them out of the partial shade on the end of the balcony and in front of the window. i am a bit concerned about them getting scorched, but again it's been so wet lately they need all the help they can get. i feel like they're established enough to be pruned a bit to make them bushier but i am Afraid. there are worse things in life than leggy tomatoes

the pic on the left below: these bush beans are looking a bit strange as well. the four shorter ones came up, promptly withered their cotyledons, and i thought they died until they popped out their first true leaves. the larger ones i think may have some kind of mosaic virus but it's a little early to tell. these are bins that haven't been used outside (they stored clothes in for the move) and new dirt from home depot. either the dirt or the seed stock itself may have been infected? very strange. the cucumbers in the bin in the back (hidden by the beans) are also taking forever to get going. at least the sweet peas are doing fine. the spinach i planted in that back bin withered where the stems met the soil and died. i think it was simply to early and too damp for them.

anyway on the right pic above: these normie peas and normie climbing beans seem to be doing fine. that's dill in the gray pot and basil in the bucket, they also seem to be doing fine. just sort of a perplexing corner on the other side of the balcony.