#dancing naked under the light of the full moon

[bea-trician]

had some fun censoring the print for my new Etsy listing so my post wouldn't get flagged on Bluesky.

find her and join the dance here: https://www.etsy.com/listing/1822340625/frolicking-print-art-nouveau-poster?click_key=de59186977a30446191272df8056451cd0e9d3c8%3A1822340625&click_sum=47415ab0&ref=shop_home_active_1

[written-in-flowers]

His Muse: Demon!Wooyoung x Fem!reader

Pairing: Demon!Wooyoung x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 6k

Genre: smut, a bit of angst

Summary: While the masters are on a week-long trip, YN goes to visit her favorite stylist. Hoping to leave with a new wardrobe, Wooyoung has different ideas.

Tags: demon fucking, monster fucking, bigdick!wooyoung, cuckolding fantasy, oral sex, vaginal fingering, mirror sex, kaptoptronophilia (mirror fetish), public sex, dressing room sex, mentions of orgies, mentions/implications of sex, striptease, clothed male/half naked female, mentions of enslavement,

Previously on Pretty Lady > Next

Pretty Lady Masterlist

***

You wished you’d been invited. A “black mass” sounded interesting. The invitation arrived a week ago in a crimson envelope, detailing the time and date of the year’s ‘Black Mass Week’. You’d noticed an uptick in your boyfriends’ behaviors up until today. Seonghwa appeared irritated by the summons, preferring not to go at all. He told you he’d only go because of rules, responsibilities and expectations of an Heir. Hongjoong said he didn’t mind a week of good parties, but he said the novelty wears off by the third or fourth day. San said he liked the ceremonies, yet said the taboo, ‘out-there’ acts that get performed threw him off. Watching San packing for the week-long event, you wondered why you couldn’t go. 

“I still don’t get why I can’t come,” you told him, playing with the sleeves of a dress shirt. “I’m technically family too. You’re my mom’s cousin, which makes you my second-cousins or something.”

San placed a rolled up shirt into the suitcase, “It’s a pure-blood only event, Darling. Cambions and other subspecies of demons aren’t allowed. Those witches didn’t make pacts with Lucifer’s cousin or half-breed son.”

“Witches?”

“Yeah, witches. You know, fly on brooms, make potions, and curse people kind of witches,” he said. “The ones who look like they crawled out from the deepest pits of Hell? Those witches. You see,” he held up two pairs of dress shoes, choosing between them as he spoke, “Witches, real ones, make pacts with Lucifer to gain power-Which one do you think?”

“-The pointy ones. They’re classy-”

He nodded as he placed the pointed ones in a separate bag. “Okay, so yeah, they write their name in a book and are given powers to spread chaos and corruption throughout the living world. In order to keep their powers, they must travel to a meeting place where they make sacrifices and dance naked under the full moon. These sacrifices sometimes involve screwing demons. The sex fuels the energy underneath the full moon that night. Think of it like a week-long orgy in the middle of the woods where witches and demons hump each other for everlasting power and youth.”

“But, aren’t witches supposed to be, you know, ugly?”

“In their true form, yes, but we obviously don’t want to fuck them when they look like that,” he huffed. “Some of them are so twisted looking. It’s gross,” he shuddered before taking socks out of his drawer. “You know we’d take you with us if we could, Darling, but it’d be pointless for you to be there.”

“You’re telling me you’re going to spend a whole week banging ugly witches while I’m here all alone?” you moped. You held onto the shirt. A pale yellow dress shirt, the soft material felt smooth and smelled like him. “Not fair.”

“You won’t be alone, Darling,” he said, smiling fondly when he saw you with his shirt. “You have Jongho, Mingi, Linette, Yunho, Yeosang and your plants. If you get needy, you can call one of them to give you a hand if you want.”

“It’s not as good with them,” you replied. “I like it, of course, but it’s different with you three.”

“I know it is,” he said, hanging off the bed to reach you. “We’ll give you all the attention you want when we come back.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” 

He gave you a light kiss when someone else walked into the room. “Are you still moping about not going with us?” Seonghwa put his fists on his hips. 

“Yes,” you said, looking up at him. “Don’t go.”

“It’s only a week, Kitten,” he said, coming over and kissing your forehead. He knelt at the foot of the bed, his head inches from yours. “I wouldn’t want you to come even if you’d been invited.”

“Why?” you asked, a nerve being hit in your chest. 

“Because then I’d have to share you with other people,” he admitted. “My cousins, my uncles, aunts, half-siblings, and all the rest. Not to mention the witches too. I already am suffering sharing you with my brothers-”

“-Hey!-”

“-I don’t want anyone else getting their paws on you.” You turned onto your stomach as he bent to kiss you again. “So, you’re staying home.”

“Hongjoong would want me to go,” you said. “Ask him. He’ll tell you that I should go with you.”

“Um, no?” Hongjoong appeared from thin air, leaning against the doorframe and looking indignant. He walked around the other side of the bed, turning your head to kiss him. “I only share you with people I like, and I don’t like anyone there enough to do that. You’re mine,” he briefly kissed you again, “Mine, mine, mine.”

“Besides, things can get pretty…” San began, searching for the word, “Freaky?”

“I like freaky,” you wiggled your eyebrows at him.

“Not your kind of freaky, babe,” he chuckled. 

“There’s lots of blood sacrifices, ceremonies, bat-shit gross sex things,” Hongjoong explained what San could not. “And everyone there is in their true forms, and that might scare you a bit.” He pinched your cheek, “I don’t want you to be scared of me.”

“I did wonder why you guys don’t look like other demons,” you admitted. “I felt too afraid to ask.”

“It’s pretty scary,” he said. “Seonghwa is particularly scary.”

“Am not,” Seonghwa flicked his ear. “San is.”

“I’m the least scary,” San said. “Anyways, we want you to stay here at home where nobody can touch you except us.” He kissed your cheek, and nuzzled your nose with his. “And selected others, of course.”

“You’ll be kept busy,” Hongjoong said. “Aren’t you going to Wooyoung’s this weekend for that new wardrobe?”

“You bought more clothes, Kitten?” Seonghwa said in disbelief. “Isn’t your closet full enough?”

“It’s the other half of my order,” you reasoned. “He brought the first part so I had stuff to wear after I tossed the rest.”

“Thanks for that by the way,” he huffed. “I wasted all that time designing your clothes, and you threw them out.”

“You got a refund for them.”

“Still. I thought you’d keep some of them.”

“I did keep some of them,” you said. “I kept the baby doll dresses.”

“Hmph,” he sulked, looking away from you. 

“I can wear them for you when you come home,” you told him, pecking his cheek. “Unless you’re so empty by the time you come back that you won’t even want me,” you said, sticking out your tongue. 

“I’ll definitely leave enough for you, Kitten.” 

“If it makes you feel better, I’ll be thinking of you the whole time,” Hongjoong said, tucking hair behind your ear. “None of those witches hold a candle to my little pet.” 

“Not a single one,” agreed Seonghwa, tapping your nose. “They’re not as cute either. I’m going to miss my Kitten,” he pecked your lips, “And how she rides me so easily. Those witches can’t take my dick like you do.”

“Or cuddle afterwards,” said San, his hand running down your back. “They just move on to the next demon or go back to dancing or whatever’s happening at the time. I’ll be counting the days until I can come back to you,” he kissed you again. “It’ll be agony. I’ll be completely miserable without you.”

You giggled, knowing exactly what they were doing. 

“I’m going to be wailing and moaning for you,” said San, pouting and kissing you. "I'll be in complete despair the entire time."

“Keep going,” you joked, nose in the air with pride. “Tell me more about how much you’ll miss me.”

“Why tell you,” Hongjoong leaned further, “When we can show you instead? Come here, pretty.” 

San ended up repacking after his suitcases got kicked off the bed. 

*****

‘Beauty by Woo.’

The sign hung above the double glass doors of Wooyoung’s shop. Dark purple drapes hung inside the large display windows, where blank mannequins modeled chic outfits. The matching awning hung over the doors with a small purple carpet. The storefront screamed ‘Wooyoung’ in every way. You knew Wooyoung’s shop was popular, but the amount of people walking in and out impressed you. 

“Here we are,” Mingi announced, opening your door. “Jung Wooyoung’s boutique.”

You put your sunglasses on top of your head, and stared at the display. A mannequin posed with a hand on her hip stood in slim black capris and a sequined top. “Looks great.”

“His message said he finished the other half of your wardrobe,” Jongho said, coming around from his side. “But, he mentioned you’re more than welcome to browse his jewelry section. He said he got a bunch of new sets he thinks you’ll like.”

“We can always count on Wooyoung to try sneaking in another sales pitch,” you shook your head. “Maybe I’ll buy some just to make The Masters regret leaving me behind, huh? What do you think?” you asked him. 

“Go for it, just don’t bring up my name when they find out,” he jested. 

Your boyfriends left home a few days ago, and you missed them like crazy. The house felt empty without them. You missed walking by San’s gym and hearing him counting under his breath or taking deep breaths as he lifted weights. You walked into Seonghwa’s library for a book, expecting to find him but finding nobody. Not to mention, Hongjoong’s records or hearing his guitar from his bedroom. You found comfort in Octavius and your plant children, though nothing filled the emptiness like they did. 

“I’ve never been here before.” Linette slid out of the car after you. She took in the display with marveled eyes, “I heard Wooyoung’s clothes are to die for.”

“They are,” you confirmed. “He’s made all my clothes: the ones I wore for the masters and ones I wear now. I asked him to do a second set,” you said, linking your arm with hers, “Maybe we’ll get you some stuff too. I’m personally sick of you in that drab uniform.”

“What’s wrong with my uniform?” she asked, looking down at it. 

“It’s very…” you couldn’t find the right word, “French maid? Like, the outfit sexy maids wear.”

“Am I not a sexy maid, Mistress?” she smirked at you. 

“You always are, but this one's a bit too tacky, don't you think so?”

“Then what would you like me to wear?”

“Whatever you're comfortable in.”

You recognized one of the assistants in the window dressing the statue. The young demon spotted you as she clasped the top in the front, and gasped. You saw her shadow moved out of the window and through the shop as you approached the front doors. Jongho just opened the front door when she appeared before you. Black leathery wings batting behind her, her pale green skin made her violet belted dress stand out more. You noticed her velvet collar dotted with diamonds, which stood out compared to the regular leather collars of the others. Wooyoung’s favorite, no doubt. You remembered her from the dozens of times she’s done your makeup, but you never caught her name. 

“Afternoon, my lady,” she bowed her head, sharp teeth in her smile, “Welcome to the boutique. I’m Kyra, how can I help you today?”

“Wooyoung said my wardrobe was ready,” you told her, searching for the skinny man in the sea of customers. “I was wondering if he was here?”

“Yes, of course, my lady. Follow me.”

She led you through the spacious store. Wooyoung didn’t only sell tailored clothes. You saw racks of clothes all around the store, with a small jewelry and shoe section near the back. Men and women both perused the racks, shelves and display tables of Wooyoung’s fashions. Seeing a mannequin modeling a pink feathery dress with sparkling boots, you realized Wooyoung took his fashion seriously. Every article of clothing you saw was a work of art. Everything from the everyday wear to nights out on the town to elegant formal events hung on the walls. He made clothes catered to every fashion trend and style. You admired it. 

“These are beautiful,” Linette gasped, taking up a satin magenta halter top. “Don't you think so, Mistress?”

“Very,” you answered. “It's a great color for you.”

“You think so?” She held it close to her body to test it. 

“Definitely. Get it.”

“Get it?”

“Yeah, Go grab a basket and pick stuff you like. You can't go everywhere in that uniform.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” you said, laughing softly. “I mean it.”

Linette’s eyes lit up, and she hugged you. Jongho took her to browse while Kyra brought you to the back of the store. Through a velvet curtain, you found yourself in what appeared to be Wooyoung’s work room. A mannequin body wearing several layers of silk and cloth embellished with beads stood in one corner, while another wore the petticoat and bottom half of an 18th century dress. On an angled table, he’d left a current design surrounded by several pencils, charcoal, and paints. You could tell he spent a lot of time here by the used coffee mugs and the pillows on the couch. Wooyoung took his work seriously. 

“Master?” Kyra called out softly to a room divider, “Lady YN is here.”

“Wonderful! I’ll be with her in a moment!” 

Wooyoung led an older woman out from behind the divider. Wearing a close fitting dress adorned with gold and aquamarine gems stood a demon with copper skin and thick black hair. She examined herself in the mirror, adjusting the jeweled strings around her long horns. Her nose up in the air, she examined herself from all angles. You saw Wooyoung bordering between anxiousness and annoyance, though he hid it from her well. 

“Well?” Wooyoung asked, fixing a strap on her shoulder. “What do you think, my lady?”

She gave herself another look over before nodding, “It will have to do I suppose. The gems aren’t exactly where we discussed. I intended to wear this at the black mass, but I’m already three days late to the event. Transport schedules aren’t as organized as they used to be.” 

“As I told you, my lady, putting gems that big so close to your waist could be uncomfortable for you,” Wooyoung said in a measured voice. “If you’d like, I can take in the waist more and add smaller stones? We can add a pattern going from hip to sternum here, see?” 

“Lady Akura is the hardest woman to please,” Kyra whispered to you. “She seduced one Egyptian pharaoh-just one-centuries ago and now acts like she’s Cleopatra. It’s pathetic.”

“Clearly a woman dressing past her prime,” you replied with a soft laugh. 

You turned away from the older demon to the rest of the workroom. On the table, you saw his latest design idea. A faceless female figure stood wearing a violet colored blazer with a pencil skirt, stockings and black heels. It looked classy and refined. Beside it, he drew the same thing in a neon green and black checkered pattern and another in pinstripes. On a separate paper, he’d drawn a group of models in various dresses: a button down shirtdress, a sundress, a wrap dress and a belted chemise one. All of them in different patterns and colors, you saw Wooyoung’s vision right away. His assistants delivered the first half of your new wardrobe a week ago, and already he’d finished the second. Examining more of his designs, it felt like a blast from the past. Your past. 

“Ugh, that woman drives me nuts,” you heard him grumble once Lady Akura left. “Nothing ever satisfies her. That gaudy thing has been sitting in here for weeks because every time she comes, she says it's not right. Ugh, she's the worst.” He joined you by the table, “What do you think? Great, huh?”

Wooyoung wore an oversized purple blazer with a light blue lining inside, matching pants and plain shirt. Your desire for your own period reflected in the stylist’s fashion. 

“I thought some professional outfits if you go to an office or just want to look like you mean business,” he said, explaining the first page. “You said you wanted some dresses, so I made a range of different ones. Each one for a different occasion. I haven’t done anything formal since I prefer making formal ones before the event.” 

“These are fantastic!” you smiled, seeing a crop top and jeans number he’d drawn. “Where’d you get the inspiration from?”

“Just some magazines I had laying in the piles,” he nodded to a door left ajar where you spotted several boxes. “Also from looking at celebrities of the time and demons who’d gone upstairs during the 1980’s. Fashion back then was so progressive compared to the ages before it. There was so much color and fun patterns for me to play with. Like, here,” he pulled up a drawing of you in an off-the-shoulder 3/4th sleeve, “I did a black and white zig-zag pattern. The black would be in sequins, while the white is in regular fabric. It’d really make you stand out. I put out a call to a shoemaker I know, and he’s willing to do some sneakers and heels for you.”

“Amazing!” you looked through more designs, “You should sell some of these in the shop. You'd make a killing for sure.”

“I already have,” he replied. “I have a whole Trendsetter section. The stuff has been flying off the shelves. You should see it! It's all anyone's been talking about, and when I mentioned you'd started it, they became even more interested.”

“Why? I'm nobody important.”

“Did you forget that you're part of the nobility now?” he asked, hand on hip. “For centuries, queens and kings have set the trends of their time. You're a Marchioness, especially from one of Lilith’s children? Psh, everyone is going to want what you're wearing. You wear a red ensemble and tell them red is the new pink, soon everyone will want to wear red. You tell them Diet Coke is the new Pepsi Zero, and people would buy it by the gallon. YN,” he faced you with arms crossed, “I don’t think you get how popular you'll become around here. People will be watching you all the time. They'll want to know everything about you.”

“Like a celebrity?”

“More than a celebrity. Princess Diana, honey. That's who you're going to be around here.”

“Oh please, nobody can top Diana.”

“Maybe not in Heaven, since she's an angel and they love her up there, but down here? Oof, get ready.” He moved a bit closer, “Because everyone's going to want a slice of you. Good thing the black mass is pure-bloods only this time. Otherwise, you’d be bitten more than once.” You heard the sultry drop in his voice and saw him scanning your features. “I know I had a bite and wanted to eat the whole thing.”

“Same here,” you turned around to match his energy.

“You know, the masters put in special orders,” he admitted. “I'm not supposed to tell you because it's a surprise, but since you're here we can see if they fit?”

You eyed him closely, “Did they?”

“They did. They're beautiful.”

“Alright, sure.”

“They're gorgeous,” you breathed, feeling the soft material. “Did they say what they're for?”

He walked over to the rack of bagged clothes, rifled around before pulling out three. You noticed the names on the different tags: “Seonghwa” “Hongjoong” “San”. You couldn't think of what reason they'd buy you clothes other than for your affection. When you unzipped Seonghwa’s bag, you saw a white lace bodysuit. It suited his taste completely. You noticed the snakes and roses sewn into the lace, intertwining up and down the front and sides. You snickered when you saw the ‘SH’ worked into the pattern near the crotch. Opening up Hongjoong’s, you saw a deep plum bra and panty set made of smooth satin and lace. The slit across the bra pads barely hid your nipples, which Hongjoong would love. The subtle ‘HJ’ sewn along the panty line did not surprise you either. San’s order was a night dress of pink silk. A tiny white rhinestone ‘S’ sat right underneath the bosom like a brooch. A declaration of ownership even without the collar. You supposed it should bother you, but you loved it.

“For when they came back from the black mass,” he said. “They said they wanted you to know they’d never desire anyone as much as you.” 

“I don’t doubt that for a second,” you snorted. “It’s a present for me that's really a present for them.” You picked up Seonghwa’s gift, but then decided against it. If anyone knew you'd tried them on, it'd be the one who reads minds. So, you picked up Hongjoong’s next. “This one’s a nice color.”

“Nice material too, but I was working off the top of my head,” he said, “So I'm not a hundred percent sure if they'll fit. You should try them on to see.”

You knew exactly where he planned to take things, and you didn't mind at all. You hung Hongjoong’s set by the mirror, and saw Wooyoung take a seat on the couch. His eyes stayed on you, already undressing you from afar. He'd seen you nude a few times before, and clearly wanted to see you again. 

One by one, you unbutton your blouse in the mirror. When you untucked it, you made sure he saw the white bra underneath. Sliding it off your shoulders, you did the same with your pants. You dragged them down your ass, knowing Wooyoung watched intently. He bit the inside of his lip when you removed them to show your pink panties. You thought he might not like your mismatched underwear, but he hardly noticed. His eyes trained on you the entire time, taking in what is underneath than what was covering it. Feeling desired brought out more arousal. You swayed your hips, playing with your pantyline the entire time. Wooyoung followed every movement. 

“I suppose I should take this off too, right?” you asked, playing with your bra straps. “We can't know the actual size with these on.”

“Yes,” Wooyoung sighed. “Yes, absolutely.”

Smirking, you slid the straps down your shoulders until they tugged at the corners. When they did, you pulled the cotton fabric underneath them. Wooyoung let out a soft whimper once you showed them, biting his tongue. In the secluded room, nothing separating you and Wooyoung but a wooden screen, you couldn't help the knot in your lower half. The workshop did not have an actual door, only a curtain; anyone could enter at any time, which only enhanced your arousal. Squeezing your tits, you teased your nipples in front of him. You imagined someone coming upon you right then, and it added to the sensations. His eyes darkened with lust as you played with them. You could see the wheels turning in his mind; you saw him picturing all the things he’d like to do to you right then. He licked his lips when you wet your fingers to rub on your hard nipple, swallowing when you gave a soft whimper. Once you unclasped your bra, you let him take in your topless form before swaying your hips. 

“You're gorgeous, honey,” he breathed, arms resting on the back of the couch. “Insanely gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” you said, sliding off your panties. “I get that a lot.”

Wooyoung slumped in his seat when he saw you. With the mirror behind you, he saw the backside just as easily. He walked over to you, picking up the bra from the hanger. 

“Let me help you, my lady,” he said in your ear as you faced the mirror again. 

You slipped your arms into the straps, seeing him clip it on behind you. His hands sliding to your front, he stuck his hand in the bra to adjust you into it. You gasped and giggled when he squeezed it instead, ending with a pinch that made you grind against him. He did the same to the other side, this time rolling your nipple between his fingers. When he finished, the slits in the bra just barely covered them. No doubt a way for Hongjoong to suck them without taking it off you. Wooyoung’s body now close to yours, the tension between you smoldered. You did your best to let him enjoy touching you, even if you wanted him to do more, but the noise outside reminded you where you were. 

“Wooyoung,” you sighed as he kissed up your shoulder to your neck, “Wooyoung, we shouldn’t…”

“Why? Don’t want to be interrupted?” he asked, kissing underneath your ear. 

“No, I don’t,” you laughed with the tightness in your stomach. 

“But you need to try on the rest, my lady,” he replied, fixing the bra on correctly. “You haven’t put on the panties yet.” 

Crotchless panties. You should have known with it being Hongjoong’s design. Wooyoung bent down to help you into them before dragging them up your body. The slow lift up your thighs caused a shudder to run through you. Adjusting them properly, Wooyoung made sure you felt his fingers along the lines and crotch. When he stood back up, he pressed you to him and admired you. 

“What do you think?” you sneered, whirling your ass to the bulge hitting between your cheeks. 

“You look incredible,” he said, running his hands up and down your stomach. Not quite sliding into the bra slits, but also not touching the crotch either. The feathery touch brought more chills to your center, which he nearly brushed with his hand. “I don’t know how you go a day without a cock in you,” he whispered, letting a hand go to the slit of your underwear. “If you were mine, I’d just chain you to my bed and fuck you whenever I pleased.”

“Is that what you do to little Kyra?” you asked, getting a surprised look from him. “Her collar gave it away.”

“All my assistants have collars.”

“Hers is special. The others have normal leather collars, but she has a velvet diamond one,” you pressed his hand further to your clit, giving a soft moan once a finger touched you. “I bet you fuck her loads. I know I would, if I were you.”

“Kyra is special,” he admitted, “But I like something different every now and then.” 

You bit back a moan as a single digit toyed with your clit side to side. Wooyoung watched you wriggle in the mirror, amused by the sudden jolt whenever he grazed your clit. You held onto the arms in front of you for leverage, since you thought you might tip over from the continuous pleasure. Wooyoung brought you to the couch and patted his lap. In the mirror, you saw yourself locked against Wooyoung who put his hands back on your exposed sex. One hand circled your clit slowly, while the other teased your entrance. You sat there looking at it, transfixed by the hands bringing you so much pleasure. 

“Like this right here,” he said in your ear. “I’ve been dying to have more of this since the last time. Now that I can fuck your pretty holes, it’s all I want to do.”

“Then fuck them,” you whined.

“I will,” he chuckled. “I will, don’t worry.”

Light and slow, Wooyoung’s fingers barely grazed your clit at times. In the mirror, you saw long fingers running up and down the moistening folds. One hand tenderly grasping your tit, keeping you locked in his lap, Wooyoung kept the same pace the entire time. You bit down on your lip to keep from being too loud, especially with all the people outside, but the hand threatened to break that. You gripped the sides of the couch each time his finger “accidentally” slipped inside you, nails scratching the suede fabric. You couldn’t stop staring. Your vision lined up each emotion with what he was doing to you: zigzags on your clit, fingers pushing deep inside before coming back out, and rolling your nipple painted a sinful image. When he finally slid them back in, you saw how your body adjusted to them. His palm grinding into your clit, the digits in your pussy pushed right to the soft center.

“Fuck!” you cried, knees lifting up at the intense pressure.

“Quiet, my lady,” Wooyoung whispered, “Someone might hear us and come in here. I’d hate to have to stop now. Not when you’re so wet,” he emphasized this with a few quick brushes on your clit before fingering you again.

You knew he was right. Wetting the opposite hand with your juices, Wooyoung pushed the wet fingers past your lips. Sucking on them firmly, he moaned seeing you suck them while he fingered you. You couldn’t stop yourself from whimpering too loudly when both hands sunk deep and wriggled around. Eventually, Wooyoung quickened his fingers until you shook in his embrace. The constant pressure of his fingertips pressing your core soon had you quaking, unable to push upwards or grab his hand to use it yourself. The position compromised you in so many ways, but you couldn’t look away from the mirror. 

Having gone so long without San, Seonghwa or Hongjoong made you desperate for something, anything. You missed Seonghwa’s smug smirk when you came over his hand and San’s gentle kisses as he slowly fucked into you. Not having Hongjoong tying you to his bed and edging you with his toys made everything else boring in comparison. You wanted them so badly. 

With a bit of moving around, Wooyoung managed to undo his pants for you. His cock, already pulsing and throbbing, stood erect against your wet sex. You reached down to rub the thick tip into your clit, the touch making both of you restrain your moans. Grinding up and down, you slid your pussy over the leaking cock in your hand. You wanted to let go. The burning desire to ride him hard and fast came to you each time the tip pushed to your entrance. Wooyoung released you from his grip, and you took this as a sign to finally push him in you. The moment you both connected, shots of relief and frustration hit you at the same time. The relief of finally being full, but the frustration of wanting more. Hands on his knees, you started off with slow, shallow movements. You kept your back arched so he might see himself buried in your cunt, while you watched yourself in the middle. 

Tits jiggling as you got faster, you knew how much San would love this. He loved watching you fuck yourself on his cock, content to lay there and grab your ass or rub your clit for you. You thought of his tanned muscles, and rough hands. Thin eyes full of lust and longing would scan over you as if he might never see you again.

“Bitch,” Wooyoung hissed, slapping your ass harshly. “You’re seriously thinking of someone else while riding me?”

Your eyes widened. Had you really said ‘San’ just now? You couldn’t remember. Your mind totally blanked, lost in the vision of San inside you. A pang of guilt hit you when you realized how messed up that is.

“I’m sorry,” you panted, clenching around him. “It kind of slipped out. I-I…”

“Keep going,” he grabbed your hair to yank your head back. “Keep thinking about him,” he grunted.

“Wha-what?”

“Think about how much bigger he is than me,” he groaned, whirling his hips so his cock moved around in you, “And how he fucks you better.”

"Wooyoung, I kind of don’t get it…You like that?”

“I ask Kyra to do it all the time,” he lifted you off the chair and onto the floor. Bent over in front of the long mirror, you had a better look at his opened shirt and loose pants. “I ask her to pretend I’m her boyfriend, but she’s cheating on me with somebody else. Do that for me. Tell me how he fucks you. Tell me what he does that’s better.” He grinded against you, hands on your ass. “Tell me you wish I was him right now.”

“I wish he was fucking me right now,” you whimpered, hands curling around the fine rug beneath you. “His dick is so big he nearly splits my pussy in half.”

Wooyoung whimpered at this “confession”. He tried keeping quiet as he started pounding you again. He kept his hand in your hair so your back stayed curved. Your eyes meeting his in the mirror, you kept going.

“I miss his tongue on my clit and his fingers inside me,” you murmured. “He always makes me cum before he puts his dick in me. You can’t even make me cum once-”

“-Yes, yes, yes,” he whined. “I can’t make you cum. I’m not good at it.”

“No, you’re fucking not,” you did deflect from this by pushing against him. Your eyes rolled back at his thick length being in you to the hilt. “You don’t even eat me out. It’s all San likes to do. He keeps going even when I’ve already cummed because he likes hearing me squeal from overstimulation.”

“Fuck,” Wooyoung panted at the vivid imagery. “I’m sorry, baby,” he said, both hands in your hair as he charged. “I’m sorry I’m not-n-not good enough.”

“You never will be,” you huffed, eyes rolling back as he angled himself deeper. “I miss him so…so fucking much.”

“Tell me what you miss, baby.”

“I miss how he kisses me,” you admitted. “I miss the way he touches me so carefully, like he’s afraid he’ll break me. I miss him calling me ‘Darling’. I miss his tongue and his fingers.”

You missed so many other things. “And his cock?”

“Yes!”

“Yeah, you miss that too? You prefer it over mine right now?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you said through clenched jaws. They went in time with his deep thrusts, the motion driving you wild. “I want to be fucking him so badly, but here-her-here I am wi-with you.”

Cuckolding never reached the top of your favorite kinks, but you quite enjoyed it with Wooyoung. You’d been about to tell him more when a voice called out from behind the divider.

“Master?” It was Kyra.

“Yes?” Wooyoung said with a bite of annoyance. Your hips didn’t stop. You kept going, knowing any second that girl would turn the corner to see you both there.

“Lady Akura wants to see you,” she said. “She says she’s just had an idea for the dress.”

“Tell her to make an appointment tomorrow,” he said. “She had her-her chance.”

“She’s insisting, sir.”

“I don’t care.” You saw his eyes fall shut as your walls squeezed him in every push. You felt your orgasm fast approaching, especially with the rug brushing your sensitive nipples and Wooyoung reaching around to your clit. “She can come back to-tomorrow. I’m busy…very busy.”

You thought about San again. Right now, his muscles would’ve tensed, his cock pulsating against your tight walls and shaking from his oncoming orgasm. He wouldn’t bother talking to Kyra; he’d be too focused on you. You forced Wooyoung’s hand to stay between your thighs, rubbing it up and down as you stuffed a random bolt of cloth between your teeth. Using the energy from your climax to bite down, you kept back to high-pitched moans you’d normally let out. In the mirror, you saw Wooyoung close to finishing.

“But, Master, I don’t think she’ll leave until she sees you.”

Wooyoung did not answer her. He only fucked into you faster, using your sex to finish deep inside you. His hot cum shooting far inside you, fingers and cock working your clit, kept you going.

“Master?”

“Tell her I will call her later,” Wooyoung grunted, giving a few more thrusts before stopping. “I said I’m busy.”

When he withdrew, you felt globs of cum drip from you and onto your new panties. You quivered as he used the head to fuck them back inside.

“Master, please don’t make me talk to that woman,” Kyra pleaded. “She’s so mean, especially to us assistants.”

You gingerly moved out of your position, feeling your joints stuck for a moment, then turned around. Taking him in your hand, you slid the wet head over your tongue. Facing the mirror sideways, Wooyoung had a perfect view of your mouth on his cock. The sensitive muscle twitches at this, which makes you take more of it. Little beads of precum spilled from him as you licked and sucked him clean. You’d get a second round either now or later.

“Get over it,” Wooyoung said, transfixed by his cock in your mouth.

“Master-”

“-I am busy with Lady YN,” he snapped. “How many times do I have to say it?”

“Kyra,” you finally spoke up, spitting cum back onto Wooyoung’s cock, “Tell Lady Akura he’ll be out in a moment. He’s helping me try on this new lingerie set and it’s, psh, it’s just complicated. There’s so many pieces to it. I swear,” you stroked Wooyoung slowly, reaching for his balls every other time, “It’s like you need an engineering degree to figure it out.”

“Um, alright,” she conceded, “I will let her know.”

You waited for her to leave, then knelt up to Wooyoung. You considered kissing him, but then you’d be there all day.

“You certainly have interesting tastes, Mr. Jung,” you taunted playfully, removing the soiled panties. “I never pegged you for a cuck.”

He shrugged, putting them aside as he wiped himself with a cloth. “It’s hot to me. It’s cool if you’re not into it that much though. It’s not a necessity to me. I knew you were missing your boyfriends, so I thought you might want to think of them while fucking me.” 

“I’m sorry about that,” you said. “I did enjoy it with you. It kind of came up out of nowhere.” 

“I know,” he smirked, “It ended up working out for me. I’d love to do it again sometime.” 

The both of you stood up, and cleaned yourselves as best as possible. You knew you’d pass out when you got home. The aching in your thighs and knees told you that when you walked back into the store. By the counter, Lady Akura waited impatiently for Wooyoung.

“She could give my grandfather a run for his money,” Wooyoung grimaced. “I’ll have someone bring your wardrobe tomorrow morning.”

“I look forward to it,” you replied with a wink.

Blowing him a kiss, you walked away to see Linette already near the door with a few purple and gold shopping bags. Clearly, you weren’t the only one who got a bit of retail therapy.

“I can’t wait to show you what I got,” she beamed at you when you approached. “Everything is so cute. I’m going to need reasons to put them on, but oh my god, they’re gorgeous.”

“And they’ll look even better on you,” you smiled.

“How was the wardrobe?” she asked as you both left the shop.

“The stuff Wooyoung showed me is divine,” you told her. “Absolutely amazing.”

You both slipped into your seats, and Jongho closed the door. The moment he did, Linette turned to you. “Clothes weren’t the only thing you two discussed, were they?”

You held back your laugh as you said, “Nope.”

“Mistress!” Linette gasped in surprise, then joined you in laughing. “With Wooyoung?”

“He started it,” you replied. “I was fine trying on the lingerie the masters bought me, and then things got hot,” you shrugged. “He’s apparently into cuckolding.”

“Who’s into cuckolding?” Jongho asked, getting into the seats facing you.

“Wooyoung,” you answered.

“Ah, I thought I smelled him on you.”

“There really is no hiding anything around here, is there?”

“Not a thing,” he confirmed with a teasing smile. “So, did Kyra watch or what? What happened?”

You told them everything on the way home. Your encounter with Wooyoung stuck with you the rest of the day. You had enjoyed every second, but you did feel bad thinking of somebody else. It wasn’t the first time you’d done that in your life, yet you hadn’t cared then. Returning home, Linette showed you her purchases while you lounged on your bed. Everything she bought looked incredible on her. 

Wooyoung was a real master of his craft.

****

A/N: One of the shorter ones, I hope you guys still liked it! I did struggle with this one for a bit haha Lady didn't go to the Black Mass, but perhaps she might get her own invitation?

Not before meeting the Queen of Flowers herself, Lilith ;)

[sashiavi]

✧˚·.SashiAvi's Kinktober Day Six.·˚✧

#6|Skinny Dipping|#6

Sebastian x Reader - Word Count - 2.3k

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There was something serene about the mountain lake at night. White moon beaming down its gaze, the dazzly lights of the stars freckled over the water’s clear surface, rippling against the bank. Frogs croak in the distance, their chests beating out with each ribbit, a sing-along with the chorus of crickets chirping their way through the night.

Sebastian can barely hear it though. 

Ears cotton stuffed, deaf to the rest of the world, his eyes hyper-focused on you; The way you look up at him, skin naked and wet, hidden away under the water’s surface save for the supple skin of your collarbones and shoulders. Careful droplets caress over your form, rolling down your wet skin, going home to the pool below.

“Hi..” It’s all he can muster, running a palm down each side of your waist, holding the divet from your ribs to hips, letting his fingers sink into the soft curve of your body.

If he knew this was how a simple night smoke would have gone then Yoba, he would gladly become a chain smoker, blowing through pack after pack to have you just like this. To have a chance of catching you walking his way. To keep you from going home in a timely manner to selfishly drink up your company. You weren’t new to each other. Finding that sweet dance of playful sex, fooling around during your shared moments of downtime, exploring your bodies through rough bites and hard, snapping rolls of hips.

This was something else. Something all-new and different.

It started with a quip, some stupid thing that had managed to catch your attention, striking up a conversation full of sarcasm, dry and witty, bordering on something self-deprecating. You fed into it, spurring the conversation along, even accepting the butt of his cigarette when he offered it up to you. Oh, how your lips wrapped around the filter as you take in a drag, blowing that spicy smoke out from your lungs, up into the air before it wafts away.

Closer and closer you came together, leaned up against the thick bark of a cedar tree by the bank of the lake, shaded by the soft shaking leaves, hidden from the moonlight, faces lit up by the soft orange glow of the cigarette with each pulling drag. Sebastian’s lazy, squinted eyes flick between your own, watching the glint of moisture spark with the flickering burn of the minuscule blaze. His teeth sink into the pierced flesh of his bottom lip, Adam’s apple bobbing with his dry attempt at a swallow.

Tensions. Oh, tensions.

Rising up and up until they boil over.

You breathe out slow, letting the thick smoke escape your lungs, leaning close, blowing the spiced air gently into his face, chin tilted up as if you were going to press your lips into his own. Of course you pull away, holding the dying cigarette to his lips, watching the ash burn bright with a final pulling drag before the poor butt is flicked away. Sebastian holds his breath in his lungs, letting his palm cup your jaw, long fingers spreading to hold your face, thumb brushing once over with a caress.

You part your lips for him, breathing in his smoke, taking the shotgun with a little quirk of a grin cracking at the corner of your mouth. Honest to Yoba, Sebastian nearly lets himself hum out a sound of need, aching to get his lips on a newfound craving, to hell with his smokes, you were worse than nicotine, wanting to taste you on his lips and never get rid of everything you could give him. Before he can even get a kiss in, your finger stops him, pressed into the plump swell in a shushing motion, a light chuckle huffing from your throat.

You pull away and he chases, pitifully leaning forward into the newfound empty space, awing at the effect you have on the otherwise stoic man. You throw him a look over your shoulder, easily slipping off your top, throwing the fabric his way, shielding his view of your stripping form before he hears the wavering wave of the lake, moulding around your body as you get in. You were something spontaneous, ripping him from his comfort zone, somehow urging him to remove his own clothes with a cheeky beckon of your finger and a light, sing-song call of his name.

You were a siren, he was sure, pulling him against his own judgements as if he were hogtied, making his heart beat hard on his ribs, getting his mind to follow your call.

“Water’s nice, Sebby~” It's really all it takes for him to chase you like a lost kitten.

Of course you tease and run, splashing him with water, flicking droplets with a kick of your legs when you try to avoid him, play-fighting under the beam of the moon, disrupting the flat surface of the water. Push and pull, cat and mouse- Except Sebastian isn’t entirely sure who exactly the mouse was in this situation.

But you’re ever so gracious, aren't you? Wrapping your arms around his neck, legs hooking on to him as if you were a koala, lifted effortlessly thanks to the gravity defying properties the water blessed you with. He greets you, and you breathe back.

“Hi yourself..” Twinkly, sparkly eyes kissed by the moonlight. It's all he can think about. Your gorgeous face all damp, ends of your hair lapped at by the water, lightly moistened thanks to all the play teasing.

Words are useless.

Especially when his lips are on your own, moulding to your sweet mouth, deep and spit filled with tongues swirling over each other, noses huffing in search of air, and yet refusing to properly pull away. It's all silent sighs against each other's lips, clicky spit-filled swallows as you try to catch your breath, arms tightening around his neck in a desperate lock, fingers threading through the hair on the back of his head. Sebastian’s hands wander, down your waist, squeezing your hips, curving over your ass for leverage, carefully grinding you into the swelling pudge of his cock, making himself at home between your warm folds. That's what this was; Warm. So, so warm on his skin, shivering goosebumps down his back at the juxtaposition of the cool, lapping water.

He moans, and so do you. Swallowing down each other’s sounds with feverish kisses, lips moving harder and faster, slipping from the slow tandem you had roped yourself into, more teeth, clattering and clipping with little care - Hands racking through his hair, grabbing healthy fistfuls with a squeezing a tug, palms squishing the fat of your ass in a groping massage. 

“Fuck me-” You chirp between hot kisses, squeezing your legs around him tighter, pushing the swell of your tits into his chest. Sebastian groans, clumsily moving you to the bank of the lake, pressing you into the slope of sandy, pebbly dirt, bodies still mingled within the lapping water. Your hair is not spared from being drenched and sand-filled, cool water kissing your skin, washing over the hot press of your bodies. Sebasian’s hands dig into the ground, fingers scratching lines into the surface with a pebbly drag, taking desperate fistfuls as his lips continue to devour your own. 

His chest huffs, eyes glued shut as his kisses move, biting down your neck, letting himself suckle deep bruises and teeth-filled nibbles into all the sensitive spots of your skin. You cry out, breathing his name with a hiccup in your throat, fingers twisting a tug against his hair, thighs squishing him harder against you. The sound makes his cock bob, that call out into the open air, right by his own home, crying out for his attention seemingly uncaring of any prying ears that could be nearby. 

He couldn't hold back, not like this, Yoba- He needed you, needed to sink his cock into your cunt, feel the warmth wrap all snug around his veiny length, save himself from the bite of the night air and the lap of shallow water licking at your bodies. His own tongue dares to lap up those droplets on your skin, licking the rough of his taste buds up your soft neck, finishing with a spitty kiss to your ear before he growls out.

“Put me in, Princess.. That's it- cmon..” He urges, nuzzling his temple against your own, coaxing you through the process of sinking him into your heat. “Hold me like that- fuck.. Tugging on me so sweetly.. Getting me nice and hard f’you? Yeahahh?” He can’t help but babble a little, spurred on by his own desperation, something he brought upon himself- Nothing kills a man faster than his own head.

“Promise- promise you’ll fuck me- please.. Pleaseplease-” You slip his head between your folds, sticky-wet even through the wash of water between your laps.

“Promise, Baby- Gonna fuck you s’good, s’okay- I gotcha.. I gotcha..hahh-” He nods, rolling his hips while he speaks his promises, sliding through the fat of your pussy, knocking on your clit.

Sometimes to stay alive you've got to kill your mind. And it dies. Any legible thoughts killed away with the warm sink of his cock into your supple, velvety cunt, pulsing hard with a thick, veiny throb when the pudge of his head kisses a press into your cervix.

Sebastian muffles a groan, huffed with an ‘oomph’ from his teeth-bitten lips, already starting a steady rhythm, humping into your cunt, letting your legs pull him in over and over. God, you mewl, chin tilted up to the night sky, hands clawing into his hair, fingers squeezing at the swell of his shoulder, doing your very best to pull him closer. It's impossible and yet? He craves it, needs to be pressed into you in every way possible, lapping at your tongue, fucking snappy thrusts into your creamy cunt.

He pulls back to see you, shining in that bath of moonlight, dark and lathered in sweet mystery at the luna’s kiss, the lake water pooling around your hips shining bright with those twinkles of light, lapping at your skin with each rolling thrust of his hips.

“Fuck..” More, More- Needs to see more.

His gritty sand groaned dirt covered hands pry at your legs, pressing rough grains into the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, pressing you down into the water- The sweetest mating press one ever could muster - Legs spread nice and wide for him, pinned and stinging with the grit of dirt, knees rocking in tandem with each snap of his hips. Don’t get him started on the noises. Mewly moans and chanting babbles of his name dribbling from your lips, the squelchy sweetness of your cunt paired with the repetitive ripple of water following his every thrust. Skin splashes together, sprays of dribbling droplets coming off of the connection, bodies clapping together with a vulgar ‘plap, plap, plap.’

“Ahh.. hmmn~ S-Seb-!” You writhe and moan, squirming against the sandy bank, one hand gripped desperately at one of his wrists holding pressure into your spread legs, grounding yourself with him. The other messes with your clit, rolling the bud between your fingers, circling the sweet thing with the flat of your fingertips all while his hips smush into your knuckles with every grinding roll.

Sebastian’s palms slide up, hooking under your knees, into the soft underside connecting the joint, grinding your poor skin into the pebbly lake floor. He mounts himself on you, fucking feverishly into your cunt, hips moving down with obnoxious claps, splashy water perpetuating the noise- He stuffs his face into your neck, lips and teeth back on your skin, sinking down into the supple flesh while his cock dares to throb. 

Closer and closer- Feeling a build up in the depths of his gut, veins gushing warm blood into the tip of his cock with a hot flex, threatening to spill and burst-

“Cumming-! S..Sebastian! Ohhh Baby please- please!” You beat him to it, crying out for him so sweetly like that, sobby sounds cutting through the splash of water rippling with his fucks, fingers tightening on his wrist, speeding up against the bead of your cunt.

“That's it- Cum f’me.. Gonna be right there, Princess- Fuckk take me there-” His throat growls out a deep groan, teeth grit while he keeps up those praises, sweet talking you through the brunt of your orgasm, laughing a huffy, arousal tainted chuckle all light from his chest when you cream. Sweet and squeezy, velvety walls massaging the length of his cock as you cum, pussy suckling him in, inviting the hot pulse of his own orgasm with a loving hug.

His hips snap in sharp staccatos, throat stuck in a perpetual growl with each lingering fuck as he spurts. He creams into you, hot and ropey filling up the depths of your sweetness, milked off by your squeezing. His eyes dare to roll, jaw going slack with sloppy, hasteful kisses, voice box betraying him with shameless praises and confessions, accidental “I fuckin love you’s” gasped into the skin of your neck.

He gifts you a final grind, rocking his hips in small motions, working you through the comedown, handsy palms opting to pet and soothe at your thighs, tickling the skin from the inner depths of your bikini line all the way up to the knee. He helps your poor legs wrap back around him, nice and comfy while he comes down to knock his forehead into your own, resting his weight on his forearms, trapping you into your own little bubble. Away from the moon, hot breaths huffing in the space, crickets entering Sebastian’s ears once more, the surrounding atmosphere gracing its presence in his mind once again. 

He swallows thick, breathing hard, nuzzling his nose before pulling away just enough to see you.

“Hi..” It's all soft giggles of disbelief from there.

→ Kinktober Masterlist & Taglist ←

some soft Sebby today <3

Thank you so much for reading! If you have any thoughts please let me know! I'd love to hear them <3 your words spur my heart on!

Property of : SashiAvi

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[duskier]

Werewolf AU / fat hairy werewolf gf x poly!141 idea rambling in honor of the art by @littlebit-of-art ♡

|| okokok werewolf lore is always varied but I love the idea of like. shift at will werewolves, but they have forced shifts during the full moon where they get all primal and stuff... thinking about the 141 in the woods, in hiding from bad guys, getting cabin fever and impatient as hell. Pissed that Laswell has benched them (though understanding she has legitimate reasons why)

Soap finds you first, middle of the night. Well, you find him, actually. He was just sneaking out for a cigarette, went alone because he didn't want to share- his pack was running low. You're a tall creature when shifted, much too large to be excusably identified as a wolf. It's the full moon, so the 'you' isn't all there- moreso your hindbrain, your dumb dog of a wolf self. Of course *she* makes a beeline towards Soap after smelling him in the air, first human you'd seen in years- he thinks he's about to get mauled to death but is pleasantly surprised when he sees your tail wagging and you're nudging him to come play with you.

The rest of the squad looks at Soap like he's nuts when he comes by with you in tow, the "can we keep it?" look on his face. Ghost has half a mind to shoot you, no matter how damned cute you looked flopping over on your back, your primal way of telling the group you were friendly.

Price knows you're something strange, not a normal wolf. After some bickering between Soap and Price ("He looks cold :("..."it's a wild fucking animal, Sergeant") you're allowed to curl up on the couch in the den of the cabin, just in front of the fire. The wood of the furniture squeaks under your weight, reassuring Price you wouldn't be sneaking anywhere at night without him noticing.

...But come morning time, when you are you again- human, that is- Price is left speechless. Who was this beautiful, stark naked woman, and why was she on the couch? Where'd the wolf thing go? Poor man, fighting his urges to look you up and down over and over until he'd memorized every silky furry curve, the soft pout of your lips...

After an embarrassing wake up call, a lot of screaming and scrambling, you were sat in an oversized blanket wrapped around you and explaining who and what exactly you were to the 141. You appreciated the warm place to sleep in, so you offer them a deal- let you move in, you'll hunt for them in your wolf form. Easy enough.

What you never could have expected was how much you would become attached to the team. It starts off small, them getting used to your large wolf form- Gaz gives you a scratch behind your ear once in a while. Then it becomes so common for you to rest on him that when he sees you, he wordlessly clears his lap, a perfect resting spot for your head. Soap asks to draw you once, then it becomes a natural thing and he's a sudden canine anatomy expert in weeks, half his sketchbook filled with you- human and otherwise. Price checks in on you, worries over you and waits up every night that you're out late hunting for them. Reminds you not to push yourself, you've stocked them plenty for winter, as he wipes your bloody maw clean with a towel before bed. Ghost gets annoyed at your limp from stickers caught in your paws, but then it becomes a daily ritual for him to groom you all over, pulling out annoyances caught in your fur or paws.

...That's just when you're in your wolf form. When you're in your human form, the men are all just as sweet, if not sweeter. Price finds an old record player, teaches you to dance to the music. Revels in the feeling of pulling your soft body close, hands lovingly caressing every inch of your body as you sway in time, your pretty head resting on his chest. He becomes quickly besotted by the feeling of your arms under his hands, the silky hair covering inch of your skin making him just mad with affection and want. Soap makes even more portraits- drawings with harsh and soft lighting, never wanting you to ever hide your body in the ways you'd been taught to previously. Can't stop raining down compliments on you the entire time, as if every five minutes he's blown away once more at your beauty. Doesn't miss a single tuft of hair, a single bit of your body. Gaz who finds every way he can make you laugh because once he's heard it, once he's seen the way your laugh moves through your whole body and the way your smile lightens the room, he's like a lovesick puppy. (It becomes bad news for Soap, because nothing made you laugh quite like Gaz pranking Soap, each prank becoming more and more childish.) Ghost takes the meager rations they have- thankfully bolstered by your hunting- and makes the best warm meals you'd ever had. Makes you taste test every meal- never plated until it has your approval. Watches you with his golden brown eyes, searching for your praise.

One night, Laswell shipped them their new rations and included a bottle of bourbon, a late birthday gift for Price. 'Sorry you're still there,' a note on the bottle apologized. The team couldn't care less about being there, so focused in on you. You take turns having small shots of the liquor and end up watching the men as they excitedly share story after story with you, each wilder than the last. Price puts his big warm hand on your leg, unable to keep himself from squeezing gently. Gaz has his arm on the backrest behind you, fingers toying with your hair. Soap sits at your feet, his head on your knee, you feel his stubble against your skin whenever he speaks. It's Ghost who breaks rank first, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear and telling you you're the prettiest girl he'd ever met. You blush, and he says he'd like to kiss that blush right off of you. It's slurred, it's silly, but it works, and you let him kiss you, his mask rolled up to his nose. Soap protests, then, of course, how dare he not get a kiss. You jokingly ask Gaz if he'd like one too, of course he agrees and you oblige them both, as if it's the most natural thing in the world. You turn to Price, who was watching intently, eyes glittering in the firelight. "Come here, love," is all he has to say before you're crawling onto his lap and kissing him silly, the peanut buttery smell of his cigars filling your senses.

From there it's as natural as breathing to wake up in a cuddle pile, to kiss them all goodbye before going out on a hunt. For each of them to take you to bed, alone or all together or somewhere in between. They treat you like a precious thing, but never like glass- they know all too well how strong you are.

They find out even more of your capabilities when they are attacked.

Full moon, you're out hunting. Happily secure in letting your wolf side take the reins, looking for the best deer to take home for your boys when you hear a crack like a whip in the distance. You hear Soap screaming just as everything goes red for you. The primal side still in control, all it can think is that your pack was in danger. You ran faster than you ever thought possible, bulky wolf body breaking through old trees, unstoppable in your path to your mates. The men you kill in your way aren't anywhere near prepared for you, slaughtered like nothing. From your boys' perspective, you were a terrifying sight to see. Snarling and monstrous, standing on your back haunches taller than a building, soaked in blood and gore. It isn't until all enemies were silenced that you're capable of thinking anywhere clearly enough to look for your boys, make sure they were okay.

Thankfully, no one was hurt. Ignoring the mess covering you, you were sniffing and nuzzling each of them ignoring their protests in disgust, distressed whines leaving you. They weren't able to calm you that night, having to allow you to stalk a perimeter around the house all night long, daring more enemies to come. It wasn't until the next day that they found you, human form collapsed in the dirt from exhaustion. They take the time to bathe you, gently and with reverence, grateful for both your life and their own. Softening your skin with lotions and oils after, wrapping you in their nicest blankets and surrounding you in a giant cuddle pile so that when you awoke, you'd feel safe.

And you do. You can't imagine life without your boys.

[flowerandblood]

Take me with you (Oneshot)

[ Hades • Aemond x Persephone • female ]

[warnings: sex content, smut, sexual tension, fluff]

[description: The god of the underworld watches his chosen one from afar, unable to get close to her. One night, he spots her alone, bathing in the lake, and decides to join her.]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

______

She knew he was watching her. She could feel it in the sudden chill breeze. Hear in the rustle of terrified leaves and flowers. See in the flickering shadow in the distance. He couldn't stop himself.

He couldn't approach her. His steps would destroy all her efforts. Any flowers under his feet, born from the touch of her hand, would wither.

He watched her from a distance, from the darkness of the forest, never going out to meet her. When he appeared, he saw from a distance how she turned her gaze quickly to him, her beautiful eyebrows furrowed with concern.

Her nymphs laughed around her, dressing her in her robes every day, combing her shiny, long hair, did not even turn around, not noticing the threat. They were weaving a wreath of field flowers, which they then crowned her head with.

At night, he watched from a distance as they bathed in the lake. As night fell, his movements were no longer bound by anything, but not wanting to scare them, he did not approach them. He watched their dancing silhouettes, shimmering against the surface of the water from afar.

One night he saw her alone. He stared at her, amazed, for she never went anywhere without her trusted confidantes. He pressed his lips painfully tight, as he saw her slender hands undoing her white, embroidered, delicate robes. Their fabric fell lightly on the grass, as her feet seared her toward the edge of the lake.

In the light of the moon and stars, her body shone with divine radiance even more than usual. She sank down to her shoulders, washing her delicate hands, her long fingers running softly over her body.

He stood up, his slow steps rustling softly in the thicket of grass. He was heading towards the wrist, his hand, with a light movement, unraveled the binding of his black, matte robe. He saw her look at him, her full, swollen lips parted slightly. In her eyes, shining like precious crystals, he saw fear and something else, that made his exposed body shiver.

She turned her back on him when he was completely naked, covered herself with her arms, as she heard the splash of water. He heard her inhale deeply, as his hands wrapped around her from behind gently, solemnly, devotedly. She shivered, as his cold chest pressed against her back, his hard manhood pressing against her hot skin, pulsing steadily.

She closed her eyes and flinched, as his fingers gently pushed back strands of her hair, exposing her neck to him. His cold, corpselike mouth bent over, placing subtle, soft, wet kisses on her. She sighed softly, her head leaning back against his shoulder.

He exhaled loudly as her warm, soft hand brushed over his scarred cheek, a reminder of his skirmish with his brother in the heavens, before pushing him into the Abyss. His large, rough hand cupped her soft, full breast carefully, caressing her nipple with his thumb, teasing her steadily. He smirked to himself as he heard her soft moan.

"I will give you pleasure, if you only desire." He whispered in her ear, and she shivered all over, her mouth parting wider in a ragged breath.

She looked at him, her eyes hazy, dreamy, uncertain. Her fingers continued to trace his face, his skin millimeters apart. She brushed her nose against his cheek. He parted his lips slightly, leaning over her. He traced them over her face, leaving wet marks, her lips parted lustfully, hot and full of anticipation.

His lips finally brushed hers, and they both sighed. They kissed slowly, with a wet, loud sound each time they broke apart. His hand teased her nipple steadily, hard and jutting with desire. His free hand moved lower, between her thighs. She shuddered, taking his hand in hers, stopping him gently. He broke the kiss by leaning over to her ear.

"Do not be afraid. I will not cause you pain." He whispered, brushing his lips against her cheek. Her chest heaved uneasily, her hand slowly loosening its grip.

His hand slid lower, his fingers meeting her warm, wet, throbbing womanhood. He began to massage her gently, in circular, slow motions, his lips finding hers again as she moaned so sweetly. Her hips began to move to the rhythm of his hand, their quiet panting and the sound of the water around them.

He felt her slender, pale body arch in pleasure as he slid his finger inside her. She was incredibly tight, wet and hot, her walls clenching against him hungrily. She kissed him chaotically, moaning softly, her lips moist from their kisses, her whole body trembling under his touch, feeling the impending fulfillment.

He pulled away from her abruptly, sliding his finger out of her, meeting her surprised, elderly gaze. He turned her to face him and grabbed her hips, lifting her up with a splash of water. He moved towards the shore, kissing her reassuringly, feeling her whole body tremble. She touched his face, looking at him with her warm, misty eyes from desire.

He laid her down on the grass beneath him, leaning over her, drops of water from his hair falling on her body like tiny diamonds. She stared at him, her hands spread at the sides of her head, her mouth deliciously parted in ragged breaths. He gently took her thighs in his hands and spread them out in front of him as if tearing a ripe fruit in two.

She looked at him pleadingly as he began to wipe his thick, engorged manhood in her juices. She sobbed as the tip of it pressed against her entrance, his fingers gently parting her skin sideways.

"Shh. We'll take it slow." He whispered, teasing her with gentle movements of his hips, Her walls clenched against him, he was barely able to put it inside her.

"It's too big." She wept, throwing her head to the side, her body arching as he pushed it deeper, closing his eyes with a loud gasp, feeling her fleshy, moist core.

"Just a little more, sweetest flower." He whispered tenderly, as he slid out again and thrust deep into her, all the way to the end, both of them leaning back with a groan. He looked at her with his lips parted in uneven breath, her whole body trembling under him, her walls clenching against him in panic.

"Look at you. How wonderfully you take me." He purred, looking at her, not moving for a moment, letting her calm down.

Until he saw her for the first time, he had never desired anyone. He could barely contain himself now, hearing her soft sigh.

He began to move slowly inside her with a quiet clicks of her moisture, a wave of heat went through them both, and they began to pant. His hands gripped hers, intertwining their fingers, his hips rocked inside her in a slow, steady rhythm, rubbing her where his finger had touched her before.

He sped up as she moaned sweetly beneath him, he was delighted to feel her hips begin to meet his movements, their naked bodies glistening in the moonlight slamming into each other with a loud, wet slaps. Both of them gasped loudly, as they stared at each other with their mouths parted wide, their bodies heaving under each other, her hot, moist, tight insides giving him a pleasure he had never experienced before.

"Do you want me to stop? Do you want me to take it out of you?" He asked in a trembling voice, looking at her wonderful, soft body glistening with sweat, his cock thrusting into her loudly, spreading her wide again and again. Her lips parted, her cheeks flushed red in embarrassment, she tightened her fingers on their intertwined hands.

"No, I beg you, harder." She whimpered. He took his hands away, grabbed her hips and began to root into her with all his strenght, panting loudly in response to her moans, he covered her mouth, muffling those wonderful sounds.

"We wouldn't want anyone to hear us, would we? We wouldn't want to interrupt this pleasure." He hissed, his thighs hitting against her buttocks with loud slaps, thrusting his aching erection into her, throbbing with arousal. His lover moaned loudly beneath him, his hand muffling everything that came out of her mouth.

He came hard inside her, throwing his head back, panting heavily, feeling the waves of her orgasm coursing through her body. Her insides clenched against him with tremendous force, squeezing his seed from his manhood into her hot core.

He removed his hand from her face, looking at her, both of them gasping loudly, as he rocked his hips inside her for a moment longer, unable to deny himself this pleasure. She looked at him dreamily, her lips parted in indescribable, sweet delight.

"Take me with you."

______

I got the idea for this story when my husband and I were in one of the museums and we saw a lot of beautiful paintings with nymphs and goddesses. The two photos at the top of the post are from that museum. We are both artists and we were impressed with how delicately they were painted! As always, leave a comment if you liked it! 💖

@zenka69 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff

[atinylittlepain]

Apothecary - Chapter Two

joel miller x witchy!reader

series masterlist

everyone's got something to say about her, and Joel doesn't know what to make of it. when he returns the favor he owes her, he tries to get some answers up in the mountains and away from the wagging tongues of Jackson.

warnings | 18+ angst, mentions of death, spooky-ooky vibes, people being superstitious dickheads

a/n | thank you all for the love on the first part of this series! i just got so excited i couldn't help but write the second part :) keep letting me know what you think, my inbox is always open and i love to hear from you!

.................................

“My son had a cough since he was two years old. She cured it with whatever she keeps bubbling on that stove of hers.”

“I had a rash that just wouldn’t go away. She gave me a balm that cleared it right up. A godsend, really.”

“Wouldn’t be alive today if she hadn’t nursed me back to health with all those herbs and plants she tends to.” 

“She talks to animals. Calmed a bucking colt with a whisper– I saw it myself!”

“I heard that infected don’t even notice her. Just walk right past her. That ain’t human, if you ask me.”

“That cat of hers spies on people and brings all their secrets back to her. You can’t tell me that’s a normal cat, not with the way it stares at folks.”

“Some of the women say they’ve seen her out in the middle of the night, dancing naked in her backyard whenever it’s a full moon.”

“I don’t know about dancing naked, but I have seen some strange lights coming from her shop on my way home from the Tipsy Bison. Lord knows what she gets up to in there.”

“She curses men. Lures them up into the mountains and puts them under her spell. But they always end up dead.”

“Dead?”

“As a doornail. It ain’t a coincidence that any man that crosses paths with her seems to wind up with one really unlucky patrol shift. Luck’s got nothing to do with it, lemme tell you.” 

Even though Tommy told him to forget about it, Joel’s been doing a bit of recon, asking people around town about her, and every new anecdote only further confuses him. It seems like everyone’s got some sort of opinion about the resident witch.

It has shocked him, really, how openly folks call her that. Even the ones that speak highly of her. He had asked Ellie about what she had heard one day after she came home from her classes at the community school. She had shrugged, a knowing grin on her face

“Well, she sure helped me out, old man. But yeah, my friends say their moms call her a lot worse names than witch. Personally, I think it’s fucking cool. D’you think she can fly around on a broom like in the movies?” Joel had not been particularly amused by that question.

He’s not sure what to make of any of it. Some people call her a saint. Others call her the devil incarnate. But there does seem to be a general consensus that any man that sets her in his sights is doomed to meet a timely demise.

It’s been two weeks since he saw her at the town market, and he hasn’t even caught a glimpse of her since. According to Maria, she’s been busy with a flare-up of some sort of stomach bug in the community, making house calls and – Joel supposes – working her magic. 

He can’t figure out why he even cares. After all, he’s only met the woman once. But he can’t seem to shake her out of his thoughts, replaying their meeting over and over in his head, particularly the moment she had said Sarah’s name with such certainty.

He finds himself rolling all this over in his mind most nights, sitting out on his front porch as the summer sun turns to thick liquid over the mountains. It’s in such a position that he finally sees her again, approaching his house with a tired smile on her face.

“Hey there, stranger.” She walks up the first step to his porch, leaning against the wooden beam as she speaks. He can’t help the way his eyes trail over her, a pair of coveralls like the kind mechanics used to wear pulled distractingly taut around the swell of her hips and a cloth bag slung over her shoulder, the tops of jars and bottles peeking out of it. When his eyes finally slip back up to her face, the quirk of her eyebrows lets him know that she totally clocked him checking her out, and he has to clear his throat, swallowing his embarrassment before he responds.

“Um, hey– hi. I, uh, haven’t seen you around lately.” She tilts her head at him, smile simmering down to a crooked smirk.

“I’ve been a little busy with all the– y’know, vomiting and diarrhea around town. But I think folks are finally out of the woods now.” Joel has to wonder to himself how she can still manage to look pretty while talking about vomiting and diarrhea.

“How exactly do you help– with that?” Her smile broadens.

“For the stuff coming out the top end, peppermint oil mostly. Ginger is king, but I’ve only got so much of it cultivating at the shop. For the problem down below, you just gotta push fluids and tell them it’ll pass.” 

“Can I ask– how do you know this stuff?” 

“Most of what I know comes from my mom. She was a lady of the plants, knew just about everything about anything that grows.” Fondness laces through her words, a soft smile as she tells him this, and he finds himself mirroring her expression.

“Lady of the plants– that’s a new one to me.” 

“Well, it’s better than witch, right?” Joel’s smile falls, but she just laughs.

“So I take it you’ve heard the rumors about me?” He’s not sure how to respond, a thickness settling in his throat and ice prickling the back of his neck. His voice comes out a bit hoarse when he does finally answer.

“Heard a lot of things about you. Not really sure what to believe though.” Her smile screws up at that, eyes crinkling as she looks at him.

“Why don’t you just ask me what you’re wondering then? Get it straight from the source.” She crosses her arms over her chest, the unbuttoned snaps of her coveralls splaying open to reveal the edge of a white tank-top, the suggestion of cleavage drawing Joel’s eyes before he can help it. He swallows hard, eyes darting back up to hers.

“Is it– I mean– are you?”

“Am I what?” She wants to hear him say it, he can tell by the ghosting curve of her lips. The word feels silly coming out of his mouth.

“Are you a– a witch?” Her smile goes practically radioactive at that, big and bright as she throws her head back in a laugh. She looks back at him, her lips pursed, eyes narrowed.

“Oh yeah, certified. Got the black cat to prove it and everything.” As if on cue, Stevie jumps up onto the railing of the porch, making Joel jump in his seat. She stifles a giggle behind her hand, Stevie nuzzling against her arm that’s wrapped around the porch beam. Joel huffs.

“Look, it seems like everyone’s got something to say about you. But I’m not the kind of guy to buy into a bunch of bullshit rumors.” She hums at that.

“Oh, no? What kind of guy are you then, Joel?” 

“The kind that likes to work things out for himself.” 

“Is that what this is? You working me out?” 

“Sure am trying to.” She sucks her teeth, squinting at him.

“And?” Joel sighs.

“And– I’m thinking it’s gonna take me a while to reach any kind of conclusion.” She nods lightly at that, smiling at Stevie as scratches under the cat’s chin.

“Hmm, alright. You let me know when you reach your conclusion then.” A thick blink of silence falls between them, and Joel finds himself unable to tear his eyes away from hers, only breaking when she lets out a sigh.

“I didn’t just come over here to give you a hard time. Was actually hoping to cash in on that favor you owe me.” He sits up a little straighter at that, nodding.

“Alright, when did you wanna go out– I mean– not– go out– like– not like a–” She laughs, silencing his floundering. 

“I know what you meant. And I was thinking the end of this week? Do you have time on Friday?” 

“Uh-huh, yep. That’s my day off.” Her face falls.

“Oh, I don’t wanna take up your day off, I’m–”

“Don’t worry about that. I’m happy to help, really.” Her frown softens into a suggestion of a smile, and she nods.

“Well, alright. Thank you, Joel. You good to meet at the gates that morning?” 

“I’ll be there, darlin. Sounds like a plan.” She grins.

“Until then, Joel.” She turns, hopping down from the porch step, before glancing over her shoulder to look at him.

“Oh, and don’t worry. I’m not gonna curse you. Not yet at least.” It’s so unexpected, he ends up choking on an inhale, but his coughing doesn’t drown out the sound of her laugh as she slinks away from his house. He’s so busy watching her saunter off that he doesn’t notice the cat jumping down from the railing, startling him when she starts twining between his legs. Stevie looks up at him, yellow eyes unblinking, as if she’s expecting something from him. He tentatively leans forward, holding out his open hand which the cat sniffs at before nudging her head into his palm, a low purr vibrating through her body. 

“You gonna go tell her all my secrets, Stevie?” The cat looks up at him, head tilted. A little too human-like for Joel’s taste. She lets out a small mrrp, before going back to twining between his legs, sleek spine arching up into Joel’s hand. Then, just as quickly as she had appeared, she pads off down the steps of his porch and out into the night. 

…

“Rumor has it you’re helping a certain lady out with some work up in the mountains tomorrow.” Joel huffs at his brother’s cocked eyebrow and crooked smirk.  He takes a sharp swig of his drink before responding.

“Owe her a favor, that's all. And before you tell me I’m not gonna come back alive, I’ve already heard that from four other people this week.” That gets a laugh out of Tommy, his eyes glancing around the bar before focusing back on Joel. 

“Nah, you’ll come back alive. It’s the days after when they always end up dead.” 

“You serious?” Tommy shrugs.

“There’s been a couple of guys, sure. But if you ask me, that has more to do with the stories people believe than it does with her. What we believe, we create, brother. The mind is a powerful thing.” He punctuates his words with a tap of his fingers to his temple. Joel grumbles.

“Yeah, yeah, alright, wise ass. But you’re telling me there really have been men who’ve–”

“It’s all coincidence, Joel. Like I said, there have been a few guys who started chasing after her. Went up into the mountains with her, y’know, all romantic and shit. And then, well, it seems like every time, only a few days later, they wound up dead. But in every instance, it was a bad patrol shift that got them. S’just coincidence that it happened after they got with her.”

“How many coincidences?” Tommy sighs.

“Four. In the last four years or so.” Joel feels his brows lift at that.

“That’s a lot of fucking coincidences, Tommy.” Tommy shrugs.

“Look, folks always talk about how horrible it is that all these men died. And it is. But no one thinks to mention what that must have done to her. To like someone? Hell, maybe even love someone? And then not only have them taken away from you, but to then be blamed for it too? It’s fucking atrocious, man.” When Tommy finishes speaking, silence falls between them, Joel a bit stunned by the clear compassion Tommy speaks with about her.

“Why d’you even care? Why not join the crowd, huh?” Tommy frowns at that, twirling his liquor in his glass rather than looking at his brother.

“I didn’t tell you this– I mean, why would I? But, Maria had a pretty difficult pregnancy.” He takes a sharp inhale before continuing to speak.

“We weren’t sure if– if the baby– if we were gonna be ok. And she was there for us, through it all.” Joel can see the tears pooling in his brother’s eyes, glinting in the low light of the bar when he finally looks at him.

“I don’t know if we’d have our boy today if it hadn’t been for her. So yeah, I care about her. And I’ll side with her every time. And most folks will too, when push comes to shove. She’s done a lot for this community. But it’s easy to spread poison behind people’s backs. So that’s what they do.” Tommy sits back on his stool, sighing deeply.

“Suppose a lot of the men see her as a challenge, y’know? Steal a cursed kiss and live to tell the tale, or some bullshit like that. And the women see the men pining after her, and they don’t like that one bit. Either way, they talk, way more than they should.” Tommy throws back the last of his drink, wincing at the burn. Joel, meanwhile, is still trying to process everything his brother just told him.

“So should I tell the kid to start planning my funeral, or what?” Tommy laughs, shaking his head.

“Nah, I think you’re too much of a stubborn ass to let a rinky-dink curse sway you. Besides, I think you’re getting ahead of yourself.” Joel squints at his brother.

“Why’s that?” 

“You said you’re just doing a favor for her. She might not even like you enough to curse you, brother.”

…

Joel doesn’t sleep at all that night. His mind works over what Tommy told him again and again, trying to reach some sort of conclusion about everything he’s learned, and coming up short every time. He shuffles out in the early morning light, eyes bleary as he nears the gate. She, however, is chipper as anything, smiling broadly when she sees him.

“Hey there, you ready to go?” He nods, grumbling out a quiet affirmation, and then they’re off.

Most of the morning is spent in silence, hiking up into the mountains. Joel knows that it’s not infected they have to worry about, not out here. But raiders are a whole other story, so he keeps a steady hand on his rifle slung over his shoulder, letting her lead them a few paces ahead of him. 

“You’re quiet this morning.” She glances at him over her shoulder as she speaks, eyebrow lifted.

“I’m thinking.” 

“About?” He huffs, stopping where he stands in the underbrush of the woods. When she realizes he’s no longer following, she turns back around, hands on her hips as she looks at him.

“I just– I wish you’d give me some straight answers here. I’ve heard something different about you from just about everyone in town– and I’m not sure if I believe any of it. Just– please.” Her brow is furrowed, eyes squinted at him as she worries her bottom lip between her teeth. 

“What do you want from me, Joel?” He swallows hard, eyes glancing around the thick trees before looking back at her.

“The truth– I want the truth.” She sighs, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You’re gonna have to be a bit more specific than that.” He has to laugh out of frustration at this little game they’re playing, pinching the bridge of his nose and letting out a low curse before focusing back on her.

“Alright, I’ll be specific. All those men that died. A lot of folks around town are convinced that you had something to do with it. S’that true?” When she speaks, Joel’s taken aback by her tone, her usual lightness replaced by a steeled stoicism.

“I had nothing to do with that. Any of it. The only curse that was on those men was their own goddamn minds buying into the town bullshit.” He’s inclined to believe her, judging by her unwavering gaze and the sure tilt of her chin as she speaks, but there’s still more that he needs to know.

“But you are– different. Aren’t you?” That coaxes a smile out of her, and she steps a bit closer to him.

“Different.” She says the word like a challenge, and he nods, taking his own steps closer to her.

“Is that your conclusion, Joel?” Both of them have their arms crossed over their chests, and they now stand so close that their forearms lightly brush.

“Starting to think I ain’t ever gonna reach a conclusion about you, darlin.” Her eyes crinkle, smile threatening to crook into a full-blown grin.

“Would that be such a bad thing? No conclusion?” It’s like magnets, the way their faces tilt, subtle shifts toward one another until he can feel the light air of her exhale across his mouth. He hums, a low sound in his chest.

“I think I’ll live.” He can practically feel the stretch of her grin at his words.

“I think you will too.” It happens as easily as a tide rolling in, languid in the way their lips slip together. His hands find the sweep of her jaw, pulling her in deeper, her palms splaying over his chest. He’s a little surprised when she swipes her tongue over the curve of his bottom lip, coaxing him open and tangling even closer with him. A woman has never taken charge like this with him, and it’s making his head spin. When she does pull away, he’s only a little embarrassed by the way he chases after her lips, stuttering into some sort of composure when she grins at him.

“For the record, you’re not wrong.” Not entirely sure what she means, he frowns at her, shaking his head. She laughs.

“I am different, Joel.”

“That wasn’t just a lucky guess, was it? About– about Sarah?” Her eyes soften, features dropping into a sad understanding. She slides her palms up from his chest to twine behind his neck. 

“No, it wasn’t.” 

…

“This is lemon balm.” She glances over her shoulder at him from where she’s crouched down, thumbing at a cropping of large, waxy leaves. He’s learned the names of more plants today than he could ever remember, though he still nods when she shows him a new one like he has any clue what it is.

“What do you use that for?” 

“You dry it, and then you can brew tea with it. It’s calming– helps with sleep and stress. Or you can mix it into salve to treat cold sores. Though not many people in Jackson come to me with that problem.” She clips several leaves from the plant, carefully tucking them into her pack and slinging it over her shoulder as she stands back up. 

They’ve been out all day, moving through the woods as she collects various plant snippings, explaining each one to him, how to use it and what its use is. And between them, a silent understanding has settled, even though Joel hasn’t asked anymore questions about her. But he knows that Tommy was right. Whatever she is, she’s a good one.

“We oughta head back soon. Sun’s starting to set.” She nods, wiping her hands off on the front of her jeans, and they easily step into stride with one another. They spend most of the hike back in a comfortable silence. Joel finds himself wanting to say something, ask something more, but always hesitating, mind hazy from the heat of the day, and from the stamped memory of the kiss they shared. Even if it was cursed, he reckons that he wouldn’t mind that.

“Joel? I want to say thank you.” He glances at her walking alongside him, the quick-fading light casting syrupy shadows across her features. He has to blink a few times to keep himself from staring.

“No need for thanks. I was happy to repay the favor.” 

“No, that’s– that’s not what I meant. I mean– thank you for coming out today with me, I appreciate it. But– I wanted to thank you for– thinking for yourself– about me.” That makes him stop in his stride, turning to fully look at her as she does the same. They’ve just crested a hill, the gates of Jackson coming into view, and her eyes keep glancing back toward it, a nervous crease between her brows.

“It’s just– you’re right– I know everyone has something to say about me. And I guess I don’t have too many friends because of it. Most folks make up their minds about me before they even talk to me. So, thank you– for not doing that.” His chest twists at her words, the worried look scrunched across her face. He’d like to take the pain away that’s clear in her expression. And then, that tightness in his chest grows for a different reason, as he realizes that he’s already in far too deep with her. He has to clear his throat to shake away the thickening feeling, tentatively reaching his hand out to her, his fingers skating over the faint dip of her collarbone. He can see her breath catch at his touch, and he revels in it, letting his hand trail down her arm until their fingers are tangling together.

“You shouldn’t have to thank me for that. Whatever may or may not be true about you– no one deserves that. I just– why do you help them– when they treat you the way they do?” She sighs, squeezing his hand in hers, and giving a weak shrug of her shoulders.

“Because it’s what I’m good at. I always wanted to help people– and that’s what I get to do. Even if some of them are fucking dicks about it.” Her crassness catches him off guard, pulling a stuttering laugh from his chest as she grins. But she’s all seriousness again, clearing her throat, her brow pulling down.

“Suppose I should warn you now that they’ll talk about you too– if you stick around me. And I don’t blame you if you don’t want–” He’s heard enough, and does something entirely too bold by closing the distance between them to steal another kiss, her wide eyes meeting his when he pulls away.

“Don’t care what any of ‘em have to say about me, or about you. They can talk all they want, darlin.” He can feel the relief in her sigh. She nods, giving his hand one final squeeze before breaking away, continuing the walk back to town. 

When they get back inside the gates, she offers him a small smile, her hands fidgeting with the straps of her pack.

“Thank you again. I really appreciated your help.” 

“Like I said, it was no–”

“Well, well, well– what do we have here? Looks like she’s got Miller under her spell, boys!” The change in her demeanor is instant, face scrunching up as they both turn to see where the commentary is coming from. Joel recognizes the man, Mason, if he remembers right, and a small group of other guys he knows from past patrol meetings. They’ve all got a similar sneer across their faces, eyes zeroed in on her, and he has to fight the urge to step in front of her to get them to stop looking at her like that.

“Guess we better get another coffin ready, huh? Hate to break it to you, Miller. She may be pretty, but she ain’t nothing but bad news.” Joel’s fists clench at his sides, and as the men break into another howl of laughter, his feet start moving toward them before his brain can catch up. But she’s quick to step in front of him, hands pressing into his chest and eyes fierce.

“Don’t– it’s not worth it.” It’s immediate, the calm that washes over him with her words, though he still glares over her shoulder at the men, whose laughter has only escalated.

“Awww, she got you good, man! Hey, witchy-poo! What kinda magic you got working on Miller to have him so whipped?” And with that, Joel is ready to bash their heads in all over again, though she holds him back with her palms firm against the front of his shirt. 

“Joel, it’s fine. They’re harmless, really.” He glances at the men one more time before finally focusing back on her, huffing as he nods. She gives him what she can of a smile, worry still pressed between her brows. 

“I’ll see you soon, ok?” His hands flex at his sides, wanting more than anything to tuck her under his arm and walk off together, but he settles for another nod, and a whispered acquiescence. She’s gone in a blink, walking off to the hollering of the men behind her. Before he can do something stupid, Joel heads off in the opposite direction toward the Tipsy Bison. He needs a fucking drink.

…

Joel is nursing his second tumbler of whiskey when just about the last person he’d like to see sidles up next to him at the bar. 

“Miller.” Mason sits down on the stool next to him, but Joel keeps his eyes on his swirling glass. 

“Look, man, I’m sorry for giving you a hard time out there. But I’m trying to help you out.” Joel rests his elbows on the bar, glancing briefly at Mason.

“Don’t remember asking for your help, man.” Mason laughs, turning on his stool to fully face Joel, a stupid grin across his face.

“Well then you don’t know her as well as we all do. I meant what I said, y’know. She’s bad news.” Joel’s starting to feel that anger creeping up his throat, angling himself just slightly in Mason’s direction to get a good look at him.

“Son, I’ve heard enough stories this week to have a pretty good idea of just how full of shit you all are. I thought this was a community of decent people, really. But after being told one too many times about some ridiculous curse, I realize you’re nothing but fools and cowards.” Mason laughs again, and Joel’s a blink away from slapping the sound right out of his mouth. 

“I’m not talking about that bullshit curse.” Joel squints at him.

“Come again?” 

“That curse you’re referring to? I agree with you that it’s town nonsense. But that’s not what I’m talking about.” When Joel stays silent, Mason’s mouth stretches into a smile.

“She may not be sending men to their graves, but she ain’t so innocent either. See, she likes to meddle.”

“Meddle?” Mason nods.

“In other people’s business. Sure, she helps folks all the time. But that’s not all she’s doing in that shop of hers.” Joel huffs, getting tired of the way this man seems to be stringing him along.

“Talk plainly, son. It’s getting late.” Mason barks out a laugh, sliding off his stool before laying a hand on Joel’s shoulder, a squinted smile on his face.

“Why don’t you go see what she’s got cooking up in that kitchen of hers in the middle of the night. Because I can tell you right now, it ain’t fucking tea.”

[adorekento]

Addicted `

NSFW : In which xiao ended up on an inappropriate website and was astonished to see his best friend bare in front of his screen.

anon asked : do you perhaps write for camgirl/porn? If you do! Will you please write one, where xiao is desperate to feel y/n's tongue wrapped on his cock but unfortunately he can only watch her hump the pillow on screen :((

warnings : smut (mdni), camgirl/porn, dirty talk, cussing, degradation, fingering, riding pillow, wild thoughts, mild sexual content, strong language, etc.

notes : I don't know much about camgirl and riding pillow, this is just based on what I've seen in some fanfics, so if I wrote something wrong or IDK I am so sorry 😭😭

Xiao was not the type of person to spend his time watching nasty content on a website. Xiao did not have that kind of tolerance for such things. He was more than pleased to go out and do his job, or so he told himself when he found himself staring down at an open webpage on his phone, a little after midnight, as he saw a video of some guy who got drunk while dancing with his wife.

He scrolled through it quickly, trying to find anything remotely amusing, until suddenly, a h/c haired girl popped up, dressed in only her bra and panties, wearing a smile plastered across her face. Xiao’s mouth gaped slightly, as he watched her take off her bra and slip it over one shoulder. As she moved closer to the camera, her bare chest seemed to be glowing softly under the light. He could see her belly button clearly from this angle, almost like a miniature moon. It felt weirdly intimate to see her like this, but there wasn't any way around that,

"y/n...?!" His heart pounded faster, As far as his fantasy could reach him, he never visualized his own best friend as a cam girl! Not to mention being an actual slut, playing with herself on camera while she's talking to a crowd full of people, But here he was, watching, helplessly and shocked.

He saw the comments start to stream in. The girl had been a total hit with the crowd. Most people were screaming at her for having breasts and showing them off so shamelessly. Xiao wondered if she even knew how much attention she was getting, and what people thought about the situation. He hoped not.

fuck me, mommy!!

I love u and ur tight cunt

ohh baby SHE'S SO HOTTT

who doesn't even wanna fuck her

LET'S JUST KISS TILL WE'RE NAKed

the urge to squish your badonkers is hard

I'm getting hard already, wanna fucking rip you

He paused reading the comments when he heard her laugh, "you guys are making me blush!" she said, in a soft voice that carried over the microphone, “So which toy do you guys want me to use first?" She asked playfully, "or should I start with this?” With a flick of her hand, she reached for her wet pussy. There were moans all around him now.

how much do i pay to have u on my bed

not an astronaut but i can explore uranus

i have two hands and you have two tits 🤘

oops, my phone went into my left hand 😍

at this point, xiao started to pump his dick slowly in response to the sound of her moaning. despite him knowing you entirely, he couldn’t help the blossoming of jealousy in his chest. with a scoff, he created an account and entered your live chatroom,

Use toys? Why not use your fingers, slut.

Xiao cringed as he typed that, if you were with him you would probably laugh at him, but you weren’t here right now. And you wouldn’t find out who he is anyway, at least not tonight. "oh? if that's what my new viewer wants, I'll make sure they get just exactly what they want." You replied, grinning evilly in return. With a flourish,

you pulled down the elastic top of your underwear and spread yourself wide open, your pussy glistening, your clit gleaming, the audience practically screaming with lust as their eyes followed the movements of your body. Xiao was unable to tear his gaze away from your face. He noticed how your tongue licked your lips as you smiled at them,

you started moving slowly in a circle around your clit, licking your lips as you moved. Xiao watched mesmerized by you, his erection growing harder as you rubbed circles around yourself, making small whimpering sounds.  Your head tilted back, and you looked sexy as hell as you continued to move in a circle. Xiao couldn't tear his eyes away from you. You had no idea what your viewers wanted to watch, yet, you still managed to make yourself look desirable and even hot.

Xiao’s heart raced as he imagined the way your lips felt on his cock, how wet you would taste. how hot, how tight your ass would feel wrapped around his cock. perfect you would feel, stroking his length, how wet he would feel, thrusting deeper inside of you, how good it would be as you moaned into the kisses you stole from his lips… Xiao bit his lip as he watched you. you were so gorgeous that sometimes, Xiao hated himself for watching you like this, he felt like a pervert, he felt disgusted. you didn’t deserve to be shown so blatantly like this, to be seen in the most intimate way possible.

he typed in one more comment, 'ride your pillow, and think of it as my cock.'

You stopped moving in your circling your clit, letting out a breathless sigh, a hint of excitement lingering in your smile, before you resumed circling and moving, teasing the audience, giving everyone the opportunity to watch. You looked completely unapologetic.

Xiao shook his head as he watched you. He wanted nothing more than to pull you onto him and fuck you until you begged him to stop until you cried out his name.

"Huh? I'm not even cumming yet and you're already asking me to do that? What a tease…" You smirked suggestively, before grabbing the nearest pillow and starting to hump on it. Your expression turned into one of pure bliss as you moaned your pleasure into it. Xiao gulped as he stared at the screen, imagining you like that, moaning his name, his hands roaming your body as you pleasured him.

You hump on the pillow, panting loudly, your thighs squeezing around your throbbing, pulsating clit. You took a deep inhale as your body shook, your face contorted, and your eyes closed shut as the noises of satisfaction spilled out of your mouth. You gripped onto the pillow, your fingers tightening around its fabric as you ground against it in your need to release yourself from your frustration. Xiao’s mouth went dry, his breath becoming shallow as he watched you.

you kept grunting and groaning, and every once in a while, a loud moan would escape your lips, before another came. The sound you made was sinful, and it sent shivers down Xiao’s spine. He wanted to listen to your voice, He wanted to watch you ride him, watch the pleasure dance across your face, watch you scream his name in sheer ecstasy, watch you come all over him as you fucked the air out of his lungs, he wanted you.

"ah... I'm close..."  You whispered as you came undone, the last thing you could say before falling limp against the bed. Xiao's eyes flickered between you, and the screen in front of him. Your mouth hung agape and his pulse quickened, as he felt himself release at the same time as you, he was touching himself the whole time even stopping just so he could cum along with you. After all, who doesn’t want to feel your sweet juice dripping down their cock,

"Ah... that felt so good... looks like I'll have to wash my pillows later...” you mumbled as your breathing returned to normal. Xiao was speechless. He couldn't believe that you, of all people, would hump their pillow in such a vulgar manner,

'once I see y/n, I won't be able to look at her the same way anymore..'

© [ adorekento ] do not steal, repost, or translate my work.

[violettduchess]

A/N: An entry for my super neglected but not forgotten Afterglow series.

Chevalier x Reader

WC: 500

The starlight behind your eyelids begins to fade. Breathing in deeply, you feel the way your wild pulse slows, the red frenzy of passion dissolving into the blushing pink of contentment. You become aware of the soft pillow behind your head, the weight of the blankets that he is now carefully pulling over your naked body to keep the chill away. The back of his knuckles brush your hips and you marvel at how just a few heartbeats ago, those strong hands were holding you there, gripping you like a lifeline. 

The only light in the room is the soft silver glow of the full moon. Not enough for him to be sure by sight alone. He reaches for you, pulls you close against him, the motion almost awkward in its haste. His hand slowly begins wandering the lines of your body, making sure not to disturb the blankets. It takes you a moment to understand what he is doing. His touch is cool and calculated, a sharp contrast to the sparkling paths of heat his fingers had not long ago been blazing across your skin.

“I’m fine,” you finally say, your hand resting on his chest, your head tilted upward to look at him in the pale moonlight. “Really.” Your voice is gentle but assured. He did not hurt you in his eagerness or the ferocity of his need. 

You’re not a fragile blossom easily torn apart by a storm. You can stand in the hurricane of his desire and meet it, head on. With a smile.

Chevalier’s hand stops on your lower back and remains there, his palm pressed against your skin. There is something shockingly intimate about being touched just there. And something so casually possessive in the gesture as well. Another hand may touch you here above your clothing, perhaps while dancing, perhaps while helping you navigate your way. But no other hand but his will ever touch here beneath it.

“Sleep.” His voice is low and quiet. The word may be a command but when he speaks to you, it feels round, soft, gentle. A tone that you and only you can bring out of him, a certain warmth that creeps into his language. A warmth born of the steady fire that you have kindled in his heart, twin flames of his affection and love for you and all that you are to him.

You sigh, a sound that reminds him of the flutter of a nightingale’s wings, and then lay your head against his strong shoulder. His scent surrounds you, crisp and comforting all at once. 

This is peace. This is home. This is all you will ever need.

It’s only when you’re standing on the ocean’s edge of slumber, about to plunge under the waves of dreaming that you feel him shift. A moment later, your forehead is anointed with a kiss, off-center and quick, but a kiss all the same.

He is at peace. He is home. You are all he will ever need.

When sleep pulls you under, you’re smiling.

Taglist: @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @aria-chikage @tele86 @writingwhimsey

@silver-dahlia @wendolrea @myonlyjknight @ikesimpleton @namine-somebodies-nobody

@whatever-fanfics @chirp-a-chirp @got7igot7family @kookie-my-little-sunshine @mastering-procrastinating

@portrait-ninja @sh0jun @queen-dahlia @themysticalbeing @nightghoul381

@whitelittlebunny @chi-the-idiot @bubblexly @ozalysss

[coyotelip]

august 25th: light (touches) || james × everyone (partner unnamed) || @stag-microfic || wc: 455

James' hands were made for light touches.

That's not the first thought anyone would get from the sight of his wide palms, his expressive gestures and his firm grip when it comes to playing on the field. No one would think so if they saw him on detention in the library with a dozen books in his hands at a time.

But James' hands were made for lightly touching the skin of those he cares about.

His fingers barely feel on Remus's skin as James gently applies the magic salve on fresh scars and wounds after a bad moon. Remus can lie with his eyes closed and even forget about the boy at the edge of his bed, tenderly working on what will soon become new pale scars. Sometimes Remus thought it was James's guilt playing tricks on him, apologizing for the scars he had left last night with his magnificent antlers, but over time he realized that every cut or bite on his body received the same treatment.

No one on the outside would call anything between James and Sirius light, but little do they know of the nights Sirius faces nightmares that lead him to James's bed to hide under his warm side, a reminder of safety and unconditional love. No matter how much they may have fought or tugged at each other playfully during the day, on nights like this, James's touch is softer than any expensive silk fabric. They begin with the deep wrinkles on the boy's tense forehead, examining them one by one until Sirius relaxes enough to close his eyes again and fall asleep with the feel of James's fingers playing with his hair.

James's touch is light when he ties Peter's tie and straightens his untidy shirt collar. When he helps Mary take care of her first broom. When he takes turns dancing with all the girls at the holiday party, holding his hands respectfully high on his waist, barely touching.

James puts special tenderness and love into light touches on his lovers' naked skin. he starts with the legs, tracing each distinct bone. Holding the soft thighs with his palms, he presses them just a little to feel this softness and to evoke a reaction from his partner. He bypasses the most interesting part between the legs and moves on, tracing his fingers around the tiny navel, counting all the visible ribs, drawing circles around the hard nipples. He runs his thumb along the expressive collarbones, restraining himself from scratching under the chin in a cat-like manner, and finally reaches the lips that are slightly parted in anticipation.

James can spend hours giving his lovers' body his full attention, but first he has to kiss them.

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Hit ‘Em Up! (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Cowboy!Gojo Satoru x Cowboy!Geto Suguru x Black!Cowgirl!Reader (Slow Burn/Enemies to Lovers)

Synopsis: You get to meet Geto & Gojo the Gunslingers, the notorious outlaws that have every town and law enforcement in a twist, when your bum-ass BF offers you as payment to avoid going to prison. Little do they know that this is only a part of your plan to get what you desire. But when you realize that the infamous gun-slinging, smooth-talking cowboys could be everything you want and more when they offer you a deal to team up with them, will you successfully be able to go through with it? 

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINOS GTFO); poly!SatouSugu; Reader is Black & Fem; Mention of other JJK characters; Porn with Plot; Tragic Backstories; T/W for Childhood Trauma, Parental Death, Violence, Panic Attacks & Torture; Angst/Hurt/Comfort; Hand Kink; Masturbation; Voyeurism; Gay Sex; Polyamorous; Double Deepthroat; Mutual Oral; Fingering; CMNF; Spitroast; Riding; Unprotected PiV Sex; Creampies; Outside/Public Sex; Shotgunning; Multiple Positions; Spit Kink; Facials; MDom/fsub Undertones; Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen PT I & II. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-One. Twenty-Two. Twenty-Three. Epilogue. Soundtrack.

********

NINE: KISS ME GENTLY IN THE MORNING. 

When you awaken under the pink sky of dawn, your head is in Geto’s lap and the fireflies are gone. 

You quickly sit up and look around, momentarily confused from your slumber. You find yourself in a sleeping bag by the now-smoldering fire and empty soup pot. Last night, you and the Gunslingers slurped down the rest of the hearty soup and shared the bottle of Jack, full and drunk, and telling funny stories about your lives. 

You learned so much about them like how Geto is afraid of leeches after being covered in them when he got lost one time in a swamp or how Gojo does great impressions.

You also learned that while Gojo is a funny and sleepy drunk, Geto is looser, wanting to dance and sing. He has a beautiful voice, silky and deep. He sang while Gojo tried to force you to dance, pulling on your hands. 

After you expressed to them your tragic past, Gojo and Geto made it their mission to take your mind off of it and make you smile. At one point, Gojo with his cheeks a cute pink from the alcohol whispered to you, “Y’know, you have a nice smile. Happiness looks good on you, sugar.”

You had flushed and felt butterflies that you passed off as effects of the booze. 

But it didn’t give you a buzz like the duo did. For once, you felt happy. Under the starry sky in the sweet summer air among the fireflies and good company, you felt like you felt bubbly. You felt tingly. You felt like you could touch the moon.

And when you finally passed out with the duo after the night ended, you didn’t wake up from night terrors. You realize now for the second time since you met Geto and Gojo, you haven’t had a single nightmare. 

Maybe…could this be…because of them?

You turn and look down at Geto sleeping beside you. He is curled up beside you under a blanket, his black hair and lashes streaked with light from the sun. He looks so serene and beautiful. You flush at the sight, feeling like you’re invading something private. 

You don’t see Gojo, but you figure he’s out scavenging or taking a walk. Deciding to fully wake up and take a stretch, you need something other than breakfast this morning: you need a bath.

So you quietly leave Geto to sleep and head up to the hot spring. The pool of bubbling, steaming water surrounded by rocks and wildflowers looks appetizing to you…including the man already in it. 

You don’t expect to see Gojo already there, naked and leaning against the rocks, his toned arms tossed over the rocks and his head leaned back. You startle, immediately covering your mouth in shock. “Oh, my God!” you gasp.

The snow-haired outlaw tilts his head forward to see you and smiles. “Sorry,” he chuckles. “Did I scare ya?” 

You blink at him, forcing yourself to look at his face and not at his toned pecs, pink nipples, or down below at the water where you’re sure he’s pantsless. You instead look at his hands which you realize now you’ve never seen out of their gloves before. 

His fingers are long, perfect for piano playing, and his knuckles on his right hand is tatted with a rose. You feel a cold shiver run through you as you stare at it. You don’t why. Have you seen this symbol before? 

“I-I didn’t know the hot spring was occupied already,” you stutter, looking away. You feel like a pervert and you feel stupid for it. You’ve seen plenty of men naked before! Why is he so different?  “Sorry. I’ll just wait.” 

You begin to turn and hurry away, heart pounding wildly. “Why?” he asks, sounding baffled by the idea. “There’s plenty of pool to go around! …Or are you that repulsed by me?” 

You turn around, taking the bait. “No, I’m not!” you scoff, flushing with embarrassment. “I just don’t want to bathe with a naked guy that I just…”

When you see him begin to laugh, you roll your eyes. “You’re such a dick,” you huff, irked. Gojo smiles at you, his blue eyes mischievous and playful. “I just like seein’ you flustered. It’s cute.” 

Once again, you turn away and start to walk. “Aww, c’mon, little miss, don’t be like that!” he whines. “It’s just a little fun between friends. Ain’t we friends?”

You stop and side-eye him, mostly to not look at him too much. “I don’t know,” you shoot back. “Are we? And even friends can still have privacy. You’re still a very naked guy and us bein’ friends don��t change that.” 

You honestly don’t even know if you are friends. Your heart says yes after last night, but your mind is still confused. You still want to run and protect yourself. Not realizing your internal conflict, Gojo rolls his eyes. “Well, if you’re gonna have your panties in a bunch over this, I’ll be riiiight over here.” 

He scoots over to the far other side of the pool, yards away from your spot.  “See? Now you’ve got your space. I’ll even turn around so you can’t see me…unless ya want to.”

His pink lips curl into a flirty smile, making liquid heat pool into your core. “Ya like what you see, little darlin’?” he purrs, his gaze seductive and hooded. 

“Not on your life,” you huff, making him give a big, bellied laugh.

You kick off your boots and socks, edge up to the pool, and hesitantly dip a toe into the water. Sensing your hesitation, Gojo turns around and begins washing his back with homemade soap. You appreciate that. Quickly, you strip off your clothes and place your gun on a nearby rock at arm’s reach. 

Then you slip into the water, sighing as soon as the warm liquid hits your skin. Once in, he turns back around. “Need any soap?” he asks. He doesn’t wait for you to say yes or no, instead tossing you the bar over the water. You catch it, emitting an impressed whistle from him, and just awkwardly sit there, your chest and bottom half submerged in the steamy water. 

Gojo goes back to closing his eyes and relaxing, so you take that time to wash up. You wash your body slowly, lathering yourself up in the rosemary-scented soap and warm water. It’s such a pleasure and a privilege to do so.

Silence falls among you, comfortable yet awkward. Should you talk? It feels weird to just sit in such silence after last night. 

“I-I wanted to thank you for listenin’ to me last night,” you awkwardly say, the words foreign on your tongue. Gojo opens his eyes and looks briefly confused, but then you see the lightbulb flicker. “Don’t worry ‘bout it,” he chuckles. “I could tell ya needed to get that off your chest as we all sometimes need to.” 

You smile, glad that he’s not making a big deal out of it. You begin to wash your neck but stop when you pass the scar under your neck and you see those blue eyes watching you. “It’s from an outlaw I had trouble with,” you explain, self-conscious. 

But Gojo, ever the sweetheart, shakes his head. “It’s okay to show me your scars, y’know,” he chuckles. “I think they’re hot.” You laugh, taken aback by the compliment but also put at ease. 

“You’d be the first,” you murmur. The many men you’ve come across don’t like women scarred up, but you have them. Physically and emotionally. 

Suddenly, Gojo slides up against the rocks, enough to give you a peak of his lower torso. You want to ask what the fuck he thinks he’s doing until you see the long, puffy, pink scar trailing from his hip to his ribcage. “Damn,” you gasp to yourself, not realizing that Gojo is watching you watch him. 

“Got shanked by Benji back when I was workin’ with him,” he explains. “He was upset with my quota of money brought in from doin’ his dirty work.” He grazes his fingers against the scar. “Never truly healed.” You can tell from the look in his eyes that he’s just as self-conscious as you are. You wonder if Geto has any scars too. 

“I think a tattoo would look sick there,” you comment. He snorts, nodding in agreement. “Geto thinks so too. Maybe someday.” Curiously, he nods at you. “You got any ink on ya?” 

You turn, showing him the pink flower tatted on your right backbone. “Just here,” you say, pointing at the tattoo. “An orchard, my birth mom’s favorite flower.”

You can feel Gojo’s eyes on you, making you feel like you’ve been dowsed in flames. “It’s beautiful,” he softly says, so genuine that it makes you burn. 

You turn back around, suddenly shy beneath his gaze and the comfort you feel from him and Geto. “I have to say, I never saw any of this comin’,” you giggle, more to yourself than to him. “I mean, just three days ago, I was fixin’ to kill you two and now we–” 

You pause, suddenly aware that Gojo is moving closer to you. You instinctively move back until you’re trapped between him and the rocks. “W-What are you doin’?” you demand, trying to move away from him.

He stops you, putting his arms on either side of you. “Don’t move,” he whispers, his tone firm. “Just follow my lead.” And then his lips are on yours. 

You’ve never been kissed in such a way. You’ve kissed many men in your lifetime, but none of them were as memorable or as mindblowing as this one. Gojo’s kiss is passionate, sweet, and–'oh, my God'–electric.

His pillowy-soft lips coax you to kiss him back until your mouths are moving as one. His hand moves to caress your cheek, his thumb softly stroking your skin as his tongue gently slides against your bottom lip. 

You slightly part your lips, allowing him access to you. His tongue slips inside of your mouth and swirls with yours, his lips still dancing passionately with yours. You can feel your body instinctively moving closer to his though your hands stay at your sides. Between your thighs, you throb, wanting more of him. Your hands tentatively move up to touch him, feeling him against you. 

But before you can though, he immediately pulls away and quickly yanks you behind him. You can’t even ask him what the hell he’s doing because he’s picking up your pistol and pulling the trigger three times, aiming up at a mountain peak. 

“What the fuck?!” you snap, angered, but that’s before you look up to where Gojo is aiming.

There, on one of the mountaintops towering over the hot spring, is a man. A man in black who clutches his chest and tumbles over the mountainside, his hat and gun tumbling in the wind alongside him. 

As soon as he does, you see heads sprout like weeds out of the mountains. At least twelve of them popping out from behind trees and rocks. Nothing but black hats, jackets, and gun barrels pointed straight at you and Gojo. 

An ambush, you realize. You’re being ambushed. 

“Duck!” Gojo shouts, immediately covering you as a spray of bullets begins to explode from the mountains.

You both crouch in the water beneath the rocks, bullets zipping past you to sink into the water and the grass surrounding the pool. Gojo keeps you trapped under the rocks until the bullets finally stop flying for a moment. “We need to get outta here!” you yell, pulling Gojo along to the edge of the pool. 

He stops you, giving you a firm look. “You get dressed and wake Geto up,” he orders. “I’ll hold ‘em off.” As fast as you can, you throw on the first thing you see–Geto’s denim jacket–and pull on your boots before Gojo gets out of the water butt-naked and starts shooting. 

Once the bullets start flying again, you quickly take cover between the trees and hurry down the cliffside, nearly sliding all the way down to Geto…who is still asleep. You pounce on him, shaking him awake. “Geto, wake up!” you shout.

The long-haired outlaw immediately leaps from his sleeping bag and rolls over to you straddles you, his gun at your temple, and a dark, menacing look in his eyes. Not at all like the Geto you’ve grown to know. 

When he realizes it’s you and not someone trying to off him, he immediately gets off of you only to duck as a bullet zips past him into a tree, spooking the horses. He takes your hand and drags you with him for cover. “What the hell is goin’ on?” he demands, pulling you behind a large rock. 

You cringe at the sound of the whinying horses and explosion of bullets from the mountaintops. “We’re bein’ ambushed,” you pant. “Gojo and I were in the pool and–” 

“Gojo and you were in the pool?” he interrupts, blinking at you. “Is that my jacket?” 

“Focus!” you snap. “He saved me from a bullet to the back of the head. I don’t know who these guys are, but it’s clear that they’re after us.” Slowly, you peek behind the rock just as another bullet flies past you and lands near the soup pot.

You see a man behind a tree near the hot spring, Gojo nowhere to be found. “There!” you call, pointing at the shooter. 

Geto turns and looks just as the shooter gets ready to reload. “Stay down,” he orders, his voice deep and on the hint of a growl, as he slips his gun out of his holster. He begins to shoot and you turn away, already knowing that Geto will hit his target. 

As you do, you see something. Something glittering from between the trees, yards away from the horses: the barrel of a rifle.

“Geto, look out!” you shout, quickly knocking him out of the way. You immediately aim for his attacker and shoot twice, smoke exploding from your pistol. You hear a grunt and the rifle drops. 

You look down at Geto once the shock has subsided.  “Are you okay?” you worriedly ask, staring down at him underneath you.

The handsome outlaw stares up at you, his eyes shining in the sunlight. “I definitely am now,” he murmurs. 

Though he isn’t touching you, you feel as if he has just ran his hands all over you. You know realize that all you’re wearing under his jacket are your panties that rub against the belt buckle of his jeans as you straddle him. Your eyes flicker down to his lips, soft, pink, and parted deliciously for you. You could lean down and kiss him now if you wanted to.

A pained, gargled groan stops you from possibly doing something that you’ll regret later. Quickly, you jump off of Geto and creep towards the shooter now lying faceup in the forest, his gun lying beside him. Blood blossoms from his chest and lower abandonem, the red liquid dripping out of his mouth. 

You cringe at the sight, feeling bad while also considering that he tried to kill Geto. Slowly, Geto kneels down beside the dying man and takes his limp right hand into his, taking off his glove. There, on his knuckles, is a black rose tattoo.

“That’s Benji’s symbol,” Geto states, narrowing his eyes at the tattoo. “These are his men.” 

He takes off his own riding glove and sure enough, the same rose tattoo sits on his right hand. You think back to Gojo’s rose tattoo and that same icy shiver run through you and your head throbs. Where have you seen this tattoo before? 

Before you can wonder about this any further, Gojo is zooming past you in his clothes and boots, hauling his white ass to his horse. “We need to get the fuck outta here!” he screams. “Grab whatever you can and let’s bounce!”

You now realize that the gun explosions from the mountaintops have stopped, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t more. 

You three don’t stick around to find out. Quickly, you pack up as much as you can and mount your horses before speeding off down the road, to the next town.

[onedaughterofman]

Sacrifice me (Papa Emeritus x g/n reader)

Summary: For tonight's ritual, Papa is tied down and on his knees. He's completely at your mercy and, to please the Old One, you must tease and deny him as hard as your heart desires.

Warning/tags: Any Papa you want. +18, sex, BDSM, sex toys, bondage, orgasm control/denial, aphrodisiacs, gags, flogging, dom/sub dynamics, ritualistic sex, satanism. 1.9 K words

A/N: I've been working on this for a while but tonight I drank a bit and decided... why not post it. Hope you like it. I proof read it after the wine, so there might be mistakes. Sorry.

The chapel of rituals smells of incense and burnt candles. Dancing flames illuminate most of the room, casting shadows around the place. There’s a gentle, grave melody echoing on the walls, reaching your ears as you walk down the aisle.

The consecrated chants send shivers down your spine. Tonight the moon is full in the black sky, ghastly light sweeping in through the stained glass, bathing everything in a multi-colored gleam.

Everything, including him.

The air freezes in your lungs, expanding your chest as your feet halt. There he is, among the lights and shadows, white eye emitting a faint glow in the inky darkness. Papa remains in the middle of the altar, on his knees, arms bound behind his back to an inverted cross.

He’s naked, and his skin conserves a bit of a flush obvious even in the gloom. The paint on his face is already messy, thick drops of sweat falling down his forehead. The air is balmy around him, clouds of condensation forming every time he pants with an open mouth.

What a sight. Tonight, he’s not Papa.

No, tonight he’s an offering, a sacrifice.

There’s nothing in your tongue when you swallow. The leather clothes are snug on your body, slightly creaking with every move. This is an unhallowed ceremony, a necessary ritual meant to honor the Dark One and to bring prosperity and power to this Ministry. It has been imparted by chosen siblings since the beginning of the times, and tonight it’s your turn to do it again.

As always, Papa smiles upon noticing you approach the altar. His shoulders roll, muscles stiffening under the tight, flushed skin. A low grunt escapes his lips, reverberating into the ancient chapel before disappearing on the walls.

Tonight is the night. This ritual is long, intense, mind-blowing even. It’s one of the very few occasions someone like Papa will be at your mercy, when he won’t be getting it his way no matter how hard he tries to sweet talk and charm you.

No. Tonight you’ll tease, edge and deny him to your heart’s delight, until he’s nothing but a whimpering, teary eyed mess on this altar. From his suffering, the Lord will be satisfied. Both of you will supply him as much sexual energy as you can create.

Fucking for Satan, offering him a rough, intense sex ritual… You’re lucky to have been chosen by Papa years ago, as his partner, as his caretaker. He never regretted it. You can percieve it in his pupils as you get closer, riding crop burning on your hand. It has a contudent weight and flows nicely in the air when you use the tip to lift his chin.

Now, with him staring right into your soul, you can’t breathe. There’s a violent blush on his face, bold even under all the black and white paint. “Amore,” he states, sultry gaze assaulting your senses. “Every second I spent waiting for you it’s been tortuous.”

The warm, wet breath creates even more condensation around him. Fuck, he’s burning. It’s not a surprise, since the cocktail of aphrodisiacs and sacred herbs he drank earlier is doing full effect. His pupils are blown, nothing but never-ending dark holes inside his irises.

In them, you look at your own reflection. In them you are powerful, sacred, a divine sight.

“I hope you didn’t torture yourself that much, Papa,” you reply, in a hushed tone. The tip of the crop is replaced by your finger when you lean down. “That’s my job tonight.”

The weight of his sheer adoration and pure lust is heavy on your shoulders. So dense, you could drown into it. The excitement coming from his bare body strickes your skin in waves, one after the other.

“Do your worst,” Papa breathes out, voice a rumble in his chest. He’s aching to caress you, or to be touched, unconsciously pulling on his restraints to be closer to you, wishing to melt into your body. “I’m yours. Forever yours. Take me.”

The first strike of the riding crop makes him flinch. An angry, red mark appears on his chest, and he smiles. Through his clenched teeth, nothing escapes but a grunt. “Harder,” he purrs.

As much as you wish to indulge him, that’s absolutely not the way this ritual should go. The following strike is softer, a tickle on his skin. The tenderness of that gesture might be even worse than the pain, because this time all the air leaves his lungs in a prolonged blow.

Oh, he’s way too sensitive for his own good. High on lust and aphrodisiacs, his blood runs hot and wild inside his veins and arteries. You take it slow, teasing and caressing softly, tip of the crop followed by your nails hardly scratching at his skin. Papa’s gaze falls to the floor, jaw locked. The shadows make him look older, face gaunt and eyes nothing but deep pits of wantonness.

And yet, you take it slow. Your fingers ghost over the places he wants them the most, merely brushing the underside of his cock before slithering back up to his shivering stomach and heaving chest. Fuck, he’s feverish already, a thin coat of sweat covering him.

“You know the deal, Papa,” you murmur in his ear. Your fingers curl around his black crucifix, pulling on it until he’s forced to look back up. “I have to watch you burn first.”

Unhurriedly, his head nods. There’s fire in his gaze, excitement and thirst in his body language. Your heels click on the old floor when you move away, scanning the table searching for whatever tool you want to use tonight.

Papa gasp through his clenched jaw when you place it on him, fist closing around his aching erection. There’s precum already coating your hand, and you wipe it off on his chest before moving away. The low buzzing of the toy fills the silence, interrupted only by the distant, faint ritualistic music.

This time, the flogger weights in your hand. Your wrist moves swiftly, causing a loud noise to stab through the air. Papa grunts, pulling on the leather restrain, but he can’t escape from the mix of pain and pleasure you’re offering him.

Gradually, minute by minute, the sexual tension and energy build up. You know your Papa well, all these years together have taught you the telling signs of his orgasms approaching. You stop right before one, then do it again, and again, and again…

You lost count of how many times you have denied him of sweet release before a raspy moan escapes his mouth, muffled by his teeth. His messy face paint stains your fingers when you cup his cheeks, gently massaging in order to encourage him to relax his jaw.

“Do you need something to bite on?”

“It might be for the best, amore,” he replies, voice nothing but a whisper. “There’s still a long way to go.”

He’s right. The moon is still high in the sky, pale light illuminating the big stained glass behind his back. Bathed in unique colors, Papa looks ethereal, sacred. And oh, there’s nothing you wish to do more than to completely ruin him.

The bit gag is secured on his mouth. Those blown, dark pupils follow your movements with adoration, dark lashes fluttering evert time your fingers graze his skin. A part of you feels pity for him, on how he’s tied up to an inverted cross in the middle of the altar, covered in drool and sweat, painfully hard. But then, there’s that dense sexual longing in his eyes, that raw ardour that reminds you he wants this.

Fuck, he’s enjoying every second of it, worshipping your ministrations with blind faith. Papa’s head leans on your leg, cheek pressed on your inner thigh. He looks up at you, silently begging to continue. A black stain is left on you when you finally move away, causing him to whine from the loss of contact.

Oh, how much he aches, how much he wants to caress you and breathe into your skin. He’ll get his chance; you’re sure of it, but now you continue with the ritual, step by step carefully planned and calculated.

By the time the moon has moved and most of the candles have consumed, Papa is nothing but a whimpering, moaning mess in the altar. The hard floor digs on his bare knees, body uselessly pulling on the leather straps. He’s biting down on the gag, droll falling to the ground when he lets out another mewl.

Your hands are on him, caressing, scratching, working him up and down with slow ease. Once more, you bear the weight of his desire, the sheer devotion in his pupils. Papa is high on your love, on the sex and the denial, high out of his mind and reservations. He only craves for any release you might offer, for any touch of your fingers and kiss from your lips.

Through labored breaths and a heaving chest, you overhear him trying to talk around the gag. There are marks on his face when you remove it, and he takes his time to pant before he’s capable to form coherent words.

“The big candle is almost all consumed, tesoro,” he murmurs, lips brushing yours as if you were the apple of temptation placed in front of him, sweet and juicy for him to bite. “Our time is ending here. Sacrifice me for our Lord. My soul is forever yours.”

This time, you’re the one breathless. You gasp, muscles tensing and relaxing as you swallow. This man is an unholy sight, the devil on earth, the son of one below and you crave every inch of him.

The soothing murmur of his prayers fills your ears. Papa’s thick lashes are coated in pleasure tears when he narrows his eyes to focus on the unsacred words, reciting from memory the ancient incantations. You do it too, in your mind, as an effort to keep you grounded.

Papa is right, this part of the ritual is important. All this slow build up has to end in a powerful orgasm, in raw energy for the Old One to consume. Your palm comes to contact with his cock again, gripping it tight as your wrist moves with practiced ease. Gently, then faster and harder. Papa’s hips move as much as he can, in an effort to ride his own pleasure until the end.

With his head propped on your shoulder, you allow him to thrust into your first, other arm slithering around his back. On your chest, you sense the muffled rumble of his grunts and moans, the heat coming from his body. The silence is pierced by his scream when he ultimately comes, hips still moving as his cum stains the floor, your fingers and his own stomach.

The candle is completely consumed by the time he pauses, body almost hanging limp. He's resting all his weight on you, blissfully out of his mind. Your fingers deftly loosen up the leather straps, allowing him to fall more and more on you. Papa’s eyes are closed, but his pupils are still blown and clouded when he finally opens them up to tenderly stare at you.

“You were ruthless, like an infernal creature who crawled up from Hell to torture my soul for eternity,” he speaks, through pants.“You scared me, amore. So badly.”

Then, lowering his lips on your palm, he smiles. His face glistens with his own release, cum mixing with the remaining black and white pigment.

“Do it again,” he purrs, before letting out a few airy chuckles. “But, later, si? Get your Papa some snacks and water, will you?”

“Anything for you,” you reply, placing a kiss on his temple. The salt from his sweat rises to your lips, combined with the bitter taste of the face paint. “My soul is yours too.”

PS: yeah none of us is free of sin, friends.

[witchersmistress]

Dancing Naked under the full moon

Hello my darlings! my WIPs are never ending so here i am try to tackle them into the ground lmao

Summary: this was a request by the lovely @livesinfantasyland from 101 kinky prompts #72 secret hook-ups starring the beloved August Walker and he just of course had to be a brat for me..

trigger warnings: weapons, orgy, voyerisum, rough sex, choking, threats, p in v., violent fingering, breath play, forced orgasm, and ire at me.

word count: 2.5K

 August’s POV

I know they say when you go undercover you need to play your part well  so here I am going to an orgy in the woods. This is fucking weird but  i cannot risk blowing my cover. Mike shut his car door behind me, and tossed me a black robe and half black mask. “Here put these on” as he put on his mask. Rolling my eyes I put them on and followed him into the clearing.

Pushing through the last of the brush, the light from the bonfire lit the path before us. Men and women all in different stages of undress, fondled, fornicating and playing under the bright moonlight. There were two women, playing with one man. Someone chased a young lady through the woods while he howled, another woman was on all fours with one man, on his back underneath her, one was in her ass and the third gentleman was in her mouth and the girl, she looked like she was having the time of her life with these men. 

Mike had already wandered off to join a group of people. Across the fire stood a breathtaking woman, with long hair down to her waist, in a grey chiffon dress, with silver arm bands, with more fabric flowing from them, her dress trailed behind her as she moved from her makeshift throne and through the mass of people as she approached me, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she handed me a gold and silver tipped arrow.  She walked passed and towards what i think were her guards, she whispered something to one of them, and proceed  to walk down a moonlight  path

One of the guards approached me and grabbed my arm, dragging me to the path she disappeared down. “You have until dawn to find her” one spoke in a gruff tone and pointed after her. A horn sounded in the distance and everyone went crazy, ripping everything off but the mask they wore and they began to chase. Disrobing myself, I took off down the path after her. A high pitched shriek came from my left as a woman was tackled to the ground, I kept following the path, guards scattered about the forest floor. A streak of grey flashed in the corner of my eye as she ran past me, I chased after her as she let out a bell sounding laughter as I chased after her. 

Slowing my speed, I began to creep and look for signs of her. She let out a wild giggle as she looked around a tree, and I flanked to the right of her tree as she turned around to look around it. Sneaking up behind her, I wrap an arm around her waist, and the other hand covers her mouth before she lets out a blood curdling scream. “Shhh my little demon”  moving my hand from her mouth to her throat, I squeezed ever so slightly, her breath hitched. I walked her towards a clear spot and there we saw the women and her three men again but this time, she was bouncing on the cock of one man while she watched the other 2 aggressively hate fuck one another. 

Leaning back against the tree, the bark biting into my skin, i spread my legs and tuck her in between them and hold her in place, she glanced at me with question flashing in her eyes ``Shh little demon just watch” gripping her jaw and turning her back to the scene before us. Gliding my under her dress,. I trace small delicate circles into the soft supple skin of her stomach, feeling the goose bumps rise on her skin. Slowly moving my hand lower till I find her silky smooth cunt. Arching an eyebrow, I let out a low rumble of a laugh “No panties? Spreading her thighs with my hand, I sink a finger into her wet pussy and swirl it around. I can feel her wall tightening as I slowly pump my finger in and out of her. “Fuck you are so tight” i whisper in her ear as she grips my forearm, “Does it excite you to watch her? Getting fucked by not one  but three men? Every hole filled and using her how they want till she cant take it anymore” adding  2 more fingers i pump in and out of her fast while my thumb circles her clit in fast circles.  “That's my good girl, cum for me little demon”  burying her face into my neck as she let out a scream and her knees buckled. I wrapped my free arm around her waist to keep her from falling to the ground.

She sagged against me as she tried to catch her breath. The group we were watching had chased  their girl off into the woods again. Her glittering eyes looked at me behind her silver mask. Scooping her up and making my way back on to the path, we came across one of her guards, one shook his head and the other one spoke “Follow me” as soon as we walked away with her, the other guard busted out laughing as we continued down the path to a small clearing that held a large white teepee “No one will bother you here until morning” he held the flap open for us as i ducked under and laid her down on the pile of pillows in the middle of the room.

Stretching out across the pillows she reminded me of a cat, lounging in the window on a sunny day. On her hands and knees her back is arched and her ass is up in the air and she is shaking it every so slightly. The little demon, letting out a low growl, grabbing her hips , I slam my front into her ass and hear her whimper. A smile curls at my lips as I do it again. Pushing the gauzy fabric up her pale  thighs and over her deliciously round ass and spanking her. She let out a pitiful whine as I did it again. Sitting back on my feet I pull her into my lap and wrap my forearm around her waist and anchor her to my body.

Pulling my cock out from the boxers and pumping it a few times before sliding it between her slick thighs, she whined and Gyrated her hips to seek some kind of pressure. I let out a low groan as I lined out the head of my swollen cock with her wet entrance. She mewled as I slowly sank into her wet heat. “ So fucking tight” I said through gritted teeth. Finally bottoming out I stopped and gave her some time to adjust to my size.

She breathed heavily while trying to get comfortable, I slowly began to buck my hips as she let out these cute little cries. Grabbing her hips, I rocked her back and forth, wrapping her arms around my neck. She leaned back as she moaned wildly. Leaning down I sunk my teeth into her neck and she jerked her body in response, as I released the skin on her neck, to her chest, then her voluptuous breast before taking her pert nipple and pulling it into my mouth.

Her hands clawed up the back of my hair and she gyrated faster. My right hand moving from its laxed position, skirted down the front of her stomach between her wet thighs to her clit that I began to circle. “Please please please” she begged me. Whine back at her, mockingly “ please I'm begging you. Fuck” I sharply groan as I picked up the pace on the assult on her body. “Your so fucking wet little demon”  Taking my free hand i wrapped it around her neck and squeezed cutting off her airway, moving my hand on her hips i began to drag her hips back and forth, the head of my cock hitting her g spot as she writhed against me, trying to loosen my grip on her throat. I could feel her walls tightening around me, her moans coming out almost silently. “If you want to breathe you’ll come for me. Right. Fucking. Now” she obeyed beautifully. She came apart on my cock, squeezing it so tightly that I came shortly behind her. With a grunt I released her throat. She took in a long breath as her body twitched against me as she struggled to catch her breath as she came down from her orgasm.  Tucking a long strand of her hair behind her ears as I pulled her off my softening cock.

Laying her down on the bed of pillows and blankets, covering her with one, I got up and grabbed a towel, dampened it with water, opened her legs and began to clean her up. She hummed softly as she watched me. Wiping myself off and throwing the towel to the side. Grabbing a few logs off the wood pile and placing them in the dying fire. Pushing them around getting the fire roaring back to life. I tucked myself in behind her as I draped a blanket over us and pulled her into my chest, kissing her shoulder blades.

 I murmured in her ear “You did so well little demon rest now, you'll need your strength for later.” she rolled over and threw her leg over my hip. “Who said I need to rest?” she purred, pushing on my chest she pushed me to my back and climbed on top, my cock was back at full attention as she reached back and unzipped her dress and pulled it over her head. Her voluptuous teardrop shaped breast bounced as they settled back into place. Running her hands up her curvy figure, grabbing her breast, pushing them together and squeezing them before letting them go. “ Well then my little demon, since you don't need to rest, then ride me” she gave me a shit eating grin and a wicked glint in her eye as she started on her task.

Her POV

* in the wee hours of the morning*

Rolling over, I stretched out, my body ached but in a good way, grabbing an additional blanket, I covered  my chest as a truck pulled up. “ it's just me,” a voice called. It was Lyla, she opened the flap and made her way inside. Dropping off my bag with all my stuff and some clothes for him. She gave me a wicked smile and a wink. “How was he? Did the rumors prove true?” she wiggled her eyebrows at me in a seductive manner as laid some wood on the fire.  Rolling my eyes, and standing up. ��Thank you Lyla, i’ll see you later” she clicked her tongue at me “ Spoilsport you are no fun” picking up an apple from the fruit basket, i took a bite and smiled “That's not what he said” she threw her head back with a laugh and walked out.

Turning my back to her, I leaned on the tall table and just watched him. His usual quaffed hair disheveled from sleep and sex, his jaw relaxed, he was as dreamy as they said he would be, but he is a wolf in sheep's clothing.Pulling up Spotify and playing Austin Giorgio’s Lips of a witch on a low volume, dropping the sheet, i began to dress, watching his sleeping figure from the corner of my eye. Pulling in my black leather boots, zipping them and standing up. I pulled my black leather gloves and my Glock 20 along with my suppressor. Walking over to him I kneel down to his sleeping form.

Sweeping a piece of hair from his face. The world's most dangerous man was asleep at my feet. Pulling the black mask from his face. August Walker, Top CIA weapon laid before me. His breath was steady and even, screwing on the suppressor, I held the gun an inch from his temple, one pull of the trigger and my mission would be complete. What I was trained from a young age, by my father.

I went to pull the trigger  but I didn’t. I've enjoyed our game of cat and mouse so far to let it end. Removing my finger from the trigger and putting the safety on, I popped one bullet from the chamber and stood from my spot. My father will be displeased that he is still breathing but that man is always displeased in what I do. Walking back to my bag, I tucked the gun away and pull out a sheet of paper and left him a little note with my silver mask and bullet.

 Throwing a leg over my motorcycle, to make sure my backpack was secure, I looked back at the teepee one last time. Bringing the engine of the bike to life with a roar, I put my helmet on, visor down and rode off into the wee hours of the morning.

August’s POV

The sound of a motorcycle engine woke me from a sound sleep. Reaching up to rub my face, my mask must have come off in my sleep. Looking up at the center of the teepee, my right hand resting comfortably on my chest, I reached my left arm out to find my little demon. But her spot was vacant, still warm as if she had just gotten up a few moments ago. Sitting up I looked for her but it was empty, except for her silver mask glinting at me from the nearby table. Standing from the makeshift bed and grabbing my discarded boxers and sweatpants left for me. 

I walked to the table and picked up her mask, sparkling in my hand. Underneath was a note in delicate  handwriting:

Until we meet again…

And on that piece of paper was a single bullet, that was meant for me… picking up that bullet, I clutched it in my hand and seethed. She was going to kill me. She was going to kill me.. I growled my frustration as I looked over the note again and the bullet. I felt the rag beneath my skin begin to ebb. She was going to kill me.. But she didn't.. Why? She had me right where she wanted me, ik was defenseless and helpless while sleeping, she didn't do it why? I walked back and forth racking my brain to figure out why my little demon did it, then it clicked.

She wanted to play a game. The clever girl, i didn't know what she looked like without a mask, she gave me no way to track her. Not even with the bullet, it looks like it came from a Glock 20, a common handgun and looks like factory made bullets, smart girl. Making my way out of the teepee I looked up to see the tail lights of a motorcycle pulling away. My little demon thinks he can run from me?  That there is no way on earth I will find her?? A wicked grin  was plaster across my face. My little hellion, I will find you and when I do. I’ll fuck you and kill you. “See you soon little demon” I whispered into the wind and watched as it chased after her. Game on little demons. Game on.. 

[spockiguess]

A Whole Lot Of Something, I’ll Tell You What || Heimdall x Female Reader

Dedicated to Ash

A/N: So...I wrote a Heimdall fic, heehee! This one is LOOOOOOONG, like fuck me, brother. I’ve been hunched over my ‘puter for the past couple of days yanking this one out of my ass (like I do with all my other fics) and it’s finally done! Yippee! My friend, Ash, was with me the entire way, cheerleading me to finish (thank you for that, by the way). So, I hope y’all enjoy it! Leave comments and suggestions below, they’re highly appreciated!

Warnings: Smut, use of terms like cunt and pussy, jealousy, Heimdall being a cocky shit

Pairing: Heimdall/Female Reader

Night fell upon the realm of Asgard, hushing voices and lulling the land’s children to sleep as the moon rose in the sky, its milky light shining through your window, illuminating your naked form. Your skin was alight as if orange embers were dancing just beneath the surface, and your breath came in quick gasps and silent moans. It took everything in you to keep silent when your hand worked diligently at your sopping cunt. 

Lusty visions flooded your mind, absolutely consumed your heart and soul, and you couldn’t keep yourself from moaning his name. With a whine, you called him out as you rubbed your clit, imagining it was his hand instead of yours. You wondered how full his fingers could make you feel, pressing against the spongy spot inside of you until you came all over his palm. 

Warmth washed against your face at these thoughts, but you couldn’t feel shame for it. You were too lost in your own pleasure to even notice how loud you were getting. Surely you’d wake someone up. 

Still, you cried out his name, unknowingly beckoning the very man you thought of, “Heimdall! Please!” you cried. 

Your voice drifted down the hall, and soon feather-light steps fell in quick succession just outside of your door, “This better be good,” then came to a screeching halt. Heimdall stood like a deer caught when he heard another one of your moans. Before, Heimdall assumed you were hurt, whining like a lost child for his help, but no, now he knew exactly what you were up to. 

“Oh, you dirty little minx,” Heimdall was as hot-blooded as any healthy mortal man and couldn’t stop the pang of arousal from shooting down his spine when he crept closer to your door. Heimdall also couldn’t prevent his hand from reaching around the door handle and pushing just enough to let a sliver of light leak from your room. 

Your cries rang true in Heimdall’s head, fluffing his already enormous ego to preposterous amounts as he chuckled under his breath. There you were, just mere meters away, begging for him like a wanton whore.

With rapt, violet eyes, Heimdall watched as your legs spread even wider, shaking from the rough stimulation your hand was providing. What truly caught his attention, though, was your dripping cunt glinting underneath the moonlight. Heimdall’s cock strained in his trousers, and he could barely restrain himself from palming it.

Deciding to indulge himself further, Heimdall looked into your mind and saw a truly erotic sight. It was you on all fours; head pushed into the pillow as Heimdall took you from behind at a monstrous pace. You were practically screaming his name, begging to cum as tears fell from your eyes. It was delicious. 

Whispering to himself, Heimdall stated haughtily, “Don’t worry, my little minx. I’m here,” before moving to open the door fully.

Suddenly, Heimdall was thrust back into reality when he felt the hard grip of the All-Father’s hand on his arm, stopping him from even opening the door another inch. Whipping around, Heimdall stared into a singular, disgruntled eye before being harshly yanked away. 

“What are you doing? Why are you stalking around like some peeper?” Odin hissed. Odin was the only person who could cause Heimdall to falter, and the blond stuttered, tripping over himself. 

“I was just– they were–” Odin dropped Heimdall’s arm and walked, already knowing Heimdall would follow and mocked him the entire way.

“Ah– ah– ah– what? You some sort of creep now? Sjá hvat, first a drunken oaf for a son, then…nevermind, you’ve got work to do.” Odin plopped in his seat with a certain finality that told Heimdall he was in for a long mission.

Days had passed since Odin dragged an unwilling Heimdall into his study, and Heimdall returned to the grassy pastures of Asgard covered in blood that wasn’t his and seriously craving release. His bones ached, and his head throbbed, leaving Heimdall exponentially more annoyed than usual. 

Einherjar and Valkyries alike watched the ravenous Heimdall stalk towards the Great Lodge, set on his path. The only thing on Heimdall’s mind was you. He knew that you’d be willing to give yourself over the instant he asked, and this knowledge fueled his trek as the gravel pathway crunched underneath his thundering feet.  

Nearing the entrance, Heimdall swung the heavy oak doors open with ease, cock already springing to life with the memories of your needy whines calling for him. He could almost hear them now. 

Turning a corner, Heimdall saw Thor’s massive body blocking his view of your door, and anger flared through his being at an interstellar speed. Why, in all the Nine Realms, would his ape brother be standing in front of your room? 

As he approached, Heimdall could hear Thor’s laughter mixed with yours, a familiar sound to him– a sound he reckoned was only his to hear. This only stoked the fires of rage burning deep within Heimdall’s stomach. 

Speaking before thinking, Heimdall shoved Thor’s back roughly, “What’s so funny, you stupid lug?”

Slowly, Thor turned around and began to invade Heimdall’s personal space, but that didn’t matter to the mind-reading Aesir god. No, what mattered was you standing behind the beast of a man, still laughing light-heartedly. 

“Oh, c’mon, he wasn’t doing anything!” You protested as the laughter rapidly began to die down. 

Heimdall didn’t respond, though, simply locking his gaze with yours. Sparingly, did Heimdall give you this look. You were in trouble. 

Swallowing, your voice was small when you spoke, “Nevermind, Thor. I think it’s best if you go.” Heimdall grinned menacingly, such an obedient dog, you were, he thought. 

Not even sparing a glance at Thor, Heimdall started, “Yes, big brother. I believe it would be the best for everyone if you took your putrid stench elsewhere.” Heimdall clapped a patronizing hand on the god of thunder’s back, causing him to cast a worried glance your way.

You nodded at Thor, urging him to leave. You had only faced Heimdall’s wrath a select handful of times and were taking your best measures to do damage control. After a second of hesitation, Thor huffed before stomping off. 

It wasn’t long before Heimdall reached out and grabbed your hand, less-than-gracefully pulling you into your humble room and slamming the door behind you. Like a purple-eyed leopard, Heimdall advanced on you before your back hit your desk. You squeaked in surprise, the whole situation only fueling your intense desire for Odin’s right-hand man. 

Heimdall’s hands came to rest on either side of your waist, his fingers digging into the polished wood of the desk. Being in such close proximity to the god, you could smell the lingering scent of bloodshed on his skin, mixed with his usual leathery sandalwood musk. It made your head spin, and it took everything in you to focus on what was at hand. 

“So, dearest, were you having fun with my brother?” Heimdall sneered. Normally, Heimdall didn’t stoop to such petty depths like jealousy, but it was hard to ignore the feeling twisting in his gut, considering you were screaming his name just days ago. 

Reeling from the new nickname, you answered, “We were just talking,” you whispered before quickly asking, “Are you upset with me?” The thought of Heimdall genuinely angry at you made your stomach churn uncomfortably, and you prayed for his mercy.

Heimdall softened, having read your mind, and brought a hand to brush your cheek gently. His thumb swooped from just beside your nose to below the edge of your eye as if he were brushing a tear away, and you realized just how big his hands were in comparison to your face. 

“Oh, I’m not mad at you. Far from it, in fact. I’m just deeply disturbed by Thor’s lack of boundaries. Does he not know who you belong to?” Heimdall was thinking out loud at this point, but what you focused on was that last part. Your chest tightened at the idea of being Heimdall’s, and you leaned into his touch, already willing to do absolutely anything for the god. 

Heimdall sensed this, of course, and pride surged through him as he smiled deviously, gold teeth shining in the torchlight of the Great Lodge. 

“Yes,” Heimdall hissed, “Tell me you’re mine.” Heimdall could feel his erection waking back up, and he leaned closer, lips just millimeters away from yours. 

Without hesitation, you stated, “I’m yours.” Heimdall rewarded this by finally touching you, his hands flying to your waist, thumbs rubbing circles into the material of your tunic.

“And you don’t care about my ogre of a brother one bit, right?” You nodded avidly, which made Heimdall hum in approval. 

“I don’t care about Thor. Or anyone. Just you. Only you.” Once the words were out, Heimdall growled, lips locking with yours in a heated embrace. 

Your arms flew to wrap around Heimdall’s neck as he pushed your pelvis into his. Through his trousers, you felt the generous outline of his cock, and your stomach flipped in anticipation. You knew Heimdall was gifted, but Gods, you were almost scared of how big he’d be. You wondered if he’d be able to fit inside you.

Heimdall groaned, reading your thoughts; you were perfect at stroking his ego. Pausing, Heimdall separated from you, watching as a line of saliva kept you connected before falling on your plump lips, “All will come in due time, dearest.” 

And just as quickly as you had parted, you were kissing again. It was passionate and familiar, full of years of longing and want all finally coming to fruition. You moaned into Heimdall’s mouth, giving the Aesir the perfect opportunity to lick inside it, tongue pressing against yours. 

You throbbed and rocked against Heimdall’s hips, hoping to relieve some of the tension. Gods, Heimdall almost couldn’t keep up with you. Almost. 

Choosing to be his usual self, Heimdall broke the kiss before asking, “Why don’t we play a game?”

You gave Heimdall a worried look, but he quickly squashed your fears, “Don’t worry, precious, I’m sure you’ll like it.” Again, that evil smirk was back, and it left you all the more intrigued. 

“It’s called: How Long Can You Last?” You were about to speak when Heimdall interrupted, hands snaking beneath your tunic and running under the hem of your trousers, “I’m sure you’re dying to know how to play, so I’ll graciously explain.” 

Heimdall’s hands stopped their travels and instead moved upward, and getting the hint, you raised both arms above your head. With ease, Heimdall removed your tunic before stopping to ogle your chest. 

Taking both breasts in hand and massaging, Heimdall continued, his voice noticeably deeper, “You see, I’ll touch you however I please, and you have to keep from cumming until I allow it. Understand?” 

Arching into Heimdall’s touch, you moaned out a yes. Sufficiently pleased with your response (and himself), Heimdall explained further, rubbing your nipples until they hardened into stiff peaks, “But if you do cum before I say, well, I’ll just have to chain you up naked for all of Asgard to see, won’t I?” 

His breath was hot against your ear when he teased, “Oh, who am I kidding? You’d probably like that.” 

Looking away, you felt a new flood of warmth tinge your cheeks. Heimdall quickly grabbed your chin, making sure to be gentle for now,  “Ah– another rule before we begin. You have to keep your eyes on me the whole time. No looking away, pretending to be all bashful.” Heimdall gave you a knowing stare, and you nodded, accepting his rules. 

“Good girl. So good for me,” Heimdall whispered sweet nothings into your ear as one of his hands maneuvered back down your stomach to worm under the top of your trousers before cupping your covered cunt. 

Heimdall’s middle finger ran along the length of your pussy, and feeling how soaked your undergarments were, he teased you again, “We’ve barely begun, yet you are already so wet! You must have been waiting for this moment for years.” Heimdall punctuated the end of his sentence by lightly slapping your already sensitive pussy, earning a yelp from you. 

“Mm, how I love the noises you make.” You were about to whine, desperate for Heimdall to give you more, but considering the god of foresight had little patience as is, he acquiesced and shoved your underwear to the side before plunging his middle finger into your inviting cunt.

Heimdall groaned at the feeling of your tight walls fluttering around his finger, already imagining how good your pussy would feel wrapped around his cock.

Moaning, you bucked into Heimdall’s hand, relishing in the feeling of his palm grinding against your clit as he worked you. Soon, Heimdall added his ring finger, then another, stretching you wide before pistoning his fingers into your cunt, aiming right for that spot inside of you each time. 

Your whole body shook from the force of it, and within just a couple of minutes, your orgasm was hastily approaching. Remembering the god’s words, you warned, “Heimdall, wait! I’m gonna–” 

Suddenly, Heimdall’s fingers were gone, and you whined high in your throat at the loss, your hips rocking for more, “Such a greedy little thing, aren’t you?” Heimdall’s face was downright devilish as you locked eyes. Then, Heimdall brought his hand to his mouth, sucking the digits and moaning at the taste. 

You could’ve cum from that sight alone before Heimdall’s hand was back in its original position, fucking you senseless. Electricity crackled through your veins as your legs shook violently, your orgasm steadfastly approaching once again. The feeling was quicker this time, and you assumed it would continue to get faster the more Heimdall kept this up. You weren’t sure if you’d be able to stop from cumming, then. 

With a raspy voice, you clung to Heimdall and whimpered in his ear, “Heimdall, it’s–” In a flash, the Aesir removed his hand again, inspecting the slick that dripped from his fingers with a satisfied grin. 

After allowing your orgasm to dissipate, Heimdall went right back to it, this time kissing you wildly, earning a pleased moan from deep within your throat. The added sensation of Heimdall’s lips on you brought you to that peak for a third time, and like a good dog, you alerted him, “I’m gonna cum, Heimdall! Please, let me cum!” 

Heimdall continued his movements, pressing his palm further against your clit, “I should make you beg more often.” 

The match struck, and you screamed out Heimdall’s name, nails digging into the white cotton of his tunic as your whole body trembled from the overwhelming force of it. Wetness soaked Heimdall’s hand and seeped through your pants, coating the insides of your thighs. Heimdall’s hand didn’t slow or stop, however, as he kept his assault on your pussy up until you were practically crying from the overstimulation. 

The pleasure nearly turned to pain before Heimdall relented, gently moving his hand away and using the other to support you as you almost toppled over, “Easy there, sunshine.” 

You slumped against Heimdall’s chest, chest heaving and legs physically weak, when Heimdall suddenly picked you up bridal style and carried you to your bed. You sunk into the blankets, hands reaching out for the god. 

Before climbing into bed with you, Heimdall removed your ruined trousers and threw them off to the side. Settling in behind you, Heimdall wrapped his arms around your waist and nuzzled into your neck.

With a hoarse voice, you asked, “Wait, what about you?” 

Heimdall kissed your shoulder, “Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about me.” 

[mysticpolin]

Ielele: the nymphs, goddesses, and fairies of the Romanian lands.

In a dream, I found myself on a mountain where the ground was strewn with tiny black flowers, like stars scattered in a sea of shadow. Each flower glowed softly, whispering different stories despite their shared roots in the same dark soil.

A melody wove through the air—so delicate, yet so profound it stirred my very soul. It was a haunting sound that made my skin crawl, a blend of beauty and fear that beckoned me to seek its source.

In a moonlit glade, women appeared. Some were naked, their skin radiant under the celestial light; others wore long, translucent gowns as if spun from moonbeams and dreams. They danced in a circle, their movements a poetic dance of shadows and light, blurring the lines between the real and the imagined.

It is said that in the middle of the night, when the moon opens the door to the land of dreams, Ielele gather in hidden and mysterious places—deep in ancient forests, in moonlit meadows, by serene ponds, among clusters of conifers, along riverbanks, at crossroads, in abandoned houses, or even in the air itself.

There, they dance naked, in long white dresses, or sometimes wrapped in delicate veils that seem to be made of light and mystery, with tiny bells on their feet that ring with each graceful step they take. They stretch out their arms in a silent ritual, bringing with them a fleeting magic, a call wrapped in otherworldly melodies that fade into the night. The roots of old trees and the murmur of streams seem to witness their sacred dance, leaving behind a ring of scorched grass—a sign of their joy and their sorrow.

At times, Ielele appear only as fleeting shadows, vague, ghostly figures that flit through the air, or as passing visions full of joy and light. They are beautiful and enchanting but always out of reach, a forbidden dream that vanishes at dawn, leaving only the echo of their music and the memory of a magical night. In these moments, reality blends with fantasy, and the stillness of the place that was once a magical dance floor is filled with a mysterious sadness, like a secret known only to the moon and the Iele.

Usually, Ielele are not considered evil spirits. They only seek revenge when they're provoked, offended, or seen during their dance. In these cases, they punish the guilty by cursing them after putting them to sleep with their song and the whirl of their dance performed around them three times. In this way, they are similar to the Erinyes from Greek mythology.

Some incantations portray them as follows:

Voi Ielelor “You, Ielelor”

Măiestrelor “Masters of the Craft”

Dușmane oamenilor “Enemies of Humankind”

Stăpânele vântului “Mistresses of the Wind”

Doamnele pământului “Ladies of the Earth”

Că prin văzduh zburați “As you fly through the Air”

Pe iarbă lunecați “Gliding over the Grass”

Și pe valuri călcați “And treading on the Waves”

Vă duceți în locuri depărtate “You travel to Distant Places”

În baltă, trestie, pustietate “To Marshes, Reeds, and Wastelands”

Unde popă nu toacă “Where no Priest Sounds the Bell”

Unde fată nu joacă “Where no Maiden Dances”

Vă duceți în gura vântului “You go to the Mouth of the Wind”

Să vă loviți de toarta pământului. “To Clash against the Earth’s Edge.”

If you want to hear a modern version of this incantation, check out the song “Ielele” by Irina Rimes. It’s a beautiful blend of traditional and contemporary music, and I really enjoyed it.

There is so much more to discover about the Iele, so if you’re intrigued by this story, make sure to Google them and dive deeper into their myths and legends.

Thanks for exploring the world of the Iele with me. I hope you enjoyed learning about these mystical beings. Until next time, may your dreams be full of magic and wonder.

[strangerthingsstuff4]

A Darling Among Dragons- Chapter Seven

 It's finally here! thank you all for being so patient! I'm so sorry it has taken this long, i was really poorly over the holiday period but I'm back and will be updating a lot more often

Warnings- Still born, labor, mentions of blood, swearing

The warm air was almost stifling, with little to no breeze Aemond was sweating already. It was the early hours of the morning and as most of the castle still slept, Aemond stood in the yard with ser Criston. The sun had not long peaked over the horizon and the morning air of kings landing stunk of the contents of the chamber pots that were being emptied.

The prince dodged another blow the knight threw at him and spun in place swinging his own sword in an attack. A small group of maids and knights had stopped briefly to watch them training, it had become a daily occurrence for a crowd to form around them as they sparred. The onlookers watched as the pair danced around each other and tossed blow after blow.

‘Come on! More force!’ Sir Criston yelled encouragements at the young prince.

It drove Aemond to move more swiftly, he hacked at the knight faster and pushed him back in retreat before sweeping his feet out from under him. Sir Criston dropped to the floor onto his back and held his breath when he felt the cold bite of Aemond’s blade under his chin.

‘Very good your grace’ Cole smiled while grabbing Aemond’s outstretched hand.

‘My prince! My prince!’ A maid yelled breathlessly running towards the crowd.

Aemond watched the young girl hold her dress while she ran towards him, almost falling over her own feet to get to him.

‘My prince! It is your wife… she… she has started her labours’ the girl struggled to get out, only just managing to stop herself a few feet in front of him.

The sword that had been in his grasp a few seconds before hit the gravel floor. Aemond was across the yard before anyone could blink, his big strides carried him quickly through court and towards his shared apartments with his lady wife. He did not stop to move aside for maids who carried sheets or even guards on their morning rounds. He needed to get to her. Raenerys was only five moons into her pregnancy, this was far too early for her labours. Her screams quickly hit his ears, they were full of pain and anguish.

The corridor seemed to go on for miles now, no matter how big his stride he just had to keep walking. Finally reaching the open doors of their chambers he stopped in the doorway; his wife was stood bent over leaning against the bed. Her sleep gown stained red and shiny with fresh blood, her skin was covered in a layer of sweat and her face wet with tears. He wanted to go to her and help her through this but his feet turned him back out of the room and down the hallway. He was not who she needed but he could get her who was, even if he had to drag him to her by his foot.

Aemond forced open the doors to Aegon’s apartments and made his way through the rooms until he reached his bedchamber. His older brother was lay only his side with his naked butt sticking out of the sheets. Light snores flowed out of Aegon’s mouth as he still slept soundly, though he had not been into flee bottom in many moons now, Aegon had taken to spending his nights in Raenerys’ company. Recently he had taken to reading to her while they bathed together or sometimes, he would help her brush her long hair and pin it up out of her way.

‘Ahhh!’ Aegon groaned at his rude awakening of his brother ripping the sheets off him, leaving him completely naked and uncovered.

‘Get dressed’ Aemond demanded, throwing his clothes at him from the back of the chair they had been hung on.

‘Piss off! I have no appointments until this evening’ Aegon grumbled sleepily, digging his palms into his eyes.

‘No but my wife is currently trying to birth your spawn so you’re going to help her through it’

‘What!?’ Aegon questioned quickly, removing his hands from his face and staring at the younger prince expectantly.

‘She has woken with a bleed and pains; her labour appears to have come early’ Aemond informed him as candidly as ever.

Aegon had dressed himself in seconds and was running through the red keep before he had even tied his tunic properly. As he struggled to adjust his clothing while running, Aegon reached his sisters bedroom with his brother in tow.

‘Your grace! You can’t be here!’ Grand Maester Mellos gasped as he moved to stand in front of Aegon, who was attempting to walk to the princess’s aid.

‘Let him in Mellos’ Aemond huffed from his place at the doorway.

‘But your grace, he has no place here’ the maester argued as Aegon pushed past him.

‘He has my permission; he brings comfort to my wife’

While the Maester gave Aemond a knowing glare, Aegon moved to Raenerys’ side and held her waist from behind.

‘Sister, are you okay?’ he mumbled

‘Please make it stop… please Aegon’ She cried in response, begging him to take the pain that was ripping through her body.

‘She will not let me examine her your grace’ Mellos grumbled to Aegon, though he looked at Aemond.

Raenerys had grabbed hold of the hand that her lover had offered her, she gripped it tightly as another wave of crippling pain took over her body. She yelled out in pain, fresh tears falling over her cheeks. Aegon bit back any noise begging to be released from her nails digging into the skin on the back of his hand. His other hand was placed on the flat of her back while she was keeled over.

‘Raenerys you must get on the bed and let Mellos asses you’ Aegon spoke softly

‘I can’t’ She sobbed, leaning back against him.

‘Fetch her milk of the poppy!’ her oldest brother ordered without removing his gaze from her.

‘We can not my prince, she needs to be conscious while she passes the babe’ The maester said grimly.

Aegon and Aemond both knew the certain outcome of her labours. The babe was coming four moons too soon, it had no chance of survival. It broke both men to watch Raenerys suffer through this pain only to be put through the anguish of losing her child. But that was a problem to be dealt with afterwards. Right now, the main concern of all in the room was ensuring that it was not both mother and child that went with the stranger.

‘I will be here with you, come get onto the bed and let the Maester help you’ Aegon mumbled softly into her ear as he held her.

Raenerys sniffled and nodded as she enjoyed a small lull in the pain before another contraction took over her body. She was helped onto the bed where she lay on her back settling against Aegon’s legs, as he knelt up behind her on the feather mattress.

‘Has my mother been informed?’ Aemond questioned one of the maids quietly.

‘Yes your grace, Myra was sent to her while Lora was sent to come and inform you’

‘And? Where is she?’

‘She said she would come to the princess after she has passed the pregnancy’ A small mousy girl stuttered out nervously.

Aemond looked over to his brother, who was looking back. Why would she not come? Their mother was always there when it came to their children’s health, it was one of the only positives she held. She had been there when Haelena had been bitten by a spider in her youth, she had been there when Aegon had almost choked on his own vomit in his drunken state. But she was not here now, while her youngest daughter was on her birthing bed far too soon and was at risk of losing her life.

‘She is wide enough to pass the babe with some tearing but it is not likely the child will survive’ Mellos muttered to Aemond after he had removed himself from between his sister’s legs.

‘The princesses health is priority, do what you must’

‘Very well but I must insist that yourself and Prince Aegon not be present for the birth, it is not proper’

Aemond nodded at Mellos’ request and moved over to his wife and his brother.

‘Aegon we must leave, she is going to pass the birth’ he muttered quietly in hopes that the already anxious Raenerys would not hear.

‘What?! No you can’t go! You can’t leave me please’ she sobbed frantically.

‘My love we can not be here for this part but we will be right outside the door’ Aemond promised while wiping the stray hairs off his wife’s forehead.

‘I want to stay!’ Aegon insisted.

‘Your grace I assure you, it is not fit for your eyes’ Mellos informed him sombrely.

Though it was obvious as to why the Maester had specified Aegon’s eyes, he did not wish to make the notion of their relationship one of gossip amongst the maids. Reluctantly he exited the room and placed himself against the wall, where he intended to stay until he could be at his lover’s side once more.

He stayed there for what felt like hours. Aemond had gone and returned twice, not being able to stand the sounds of Raenerys’ cries. Aegon remained as maids came and with clean sheets and bowls of water. He heard every sob, every plea she made and every shout from Mellos for her to continue pushing.

The urge to run himself was strong. He wanted to get as far away from those noises as he could, never to hear them again. All he had to do was push himself up from his crouched position and his legs would do the rest of the work, carrying him away. But he stayed glued to his spot, his head stayed in his hands and his feet planted to the floor. He would not leave her, not matter how badly he wanted to. Raenerys had not left him when he had come down with a fever before his twelfth name day and he was not going to leave her now. His throat felt tight at the concept of what was happening beyond the brick wall he leant against. What if the stranger came for them both? He could handle losing the babe, they could make another. But her! If she was to leave him, he would have to throw himself from the red keep, it would be the kindest thing to do. The idea of living this life without her was a grim one but one he thought about all too often.

Aegon could not recall when it had gone quiet, too focused on not listening to her pain. The clicking of his brother’s boots approaching once more, drew him out of his daze. If the concerned look on Aemond’s face was not enough to turn Aegon’s stomach, the echo of his knock against the heavy wooden door could’ve pushed him over the edge. It creaked loudly as the Grand Maester slipped out of the room, closing the door behind him. His robes were spattered with blood and other fluids, from the layered neck beneath his chain to the tattered end that hung about his feet. The wide opening of his sleeves was drenched and sticking to his skinny hairy arms.

‘Your grace, the princess has birthed the child but as expected it was not born breathing. I give you my deepest apologies’ Mellos spoke directly to at Aemond but his words flowed to Aegon.

‘How is Raenerys’?! is she okay?’ Aegon demanded, cutting Aemond off from asking the same questions.

‘The princess is resting; it was not an easy labour. I have given her milk of the poppy and she is sleeping. She was quite distraught over the sight of the child’

‘Will she be okay?’ Aemond finally spoke

‘She will be fine granted she can burn away any infection that may come with her tearing’ Mellos stuttered gravely.

‘Thank you Maester, you have once again proved yourself invaluable’ the prince patted him on the shoulder, to which the old man beamed.

Aegon did not waste another second and made a move to step towards the door. A hand placed firmly on his shoulder stopped him. Grand maester Mellos shuffled his way to stand between the prince and the wooden door that separated him from the woman he needed to see was for himself.

‘I must warn you your grace, the babe has yet to be wrapped. There were some unusual bruising and disfigurements with the body that suggests the pregnancy was purposefully terminated’

‘Terminated? What do you mean?’

‘I suspect the princess has been consuming moon tea and a lot of it! To be able to end a pregnancy this far along it would need to be an intake of at least two kettles’ Mellos explained grimly, almost directly to Aegon.

‘Are you saying Raenerys did this herself?!’ Aemond questioned furiously.

She wouldn’t! Aegon knew she wouldn’t. She had been ecstatic to find out he was going to be there with her through it, it was all she had spoken about!

The rain was pounding the stone of the balcony adding to the relaxing atmosphere the couple had created for themselves. Raenerys’ swollen belly was quite an obstacle when it came to her favourite past time, brushing Aegon’s hair. He was sat between her legs on the floor while she struggled to sit forward in the plump armchair. She ran her fingers through each strand of his hair after running her brush through it. She held it at the root and fought with the new tatts he had managed to pick up during the day.

‘Vaegon’ she burst out with suddenly, ceasing her actions with the hairbrush.

‘What?’ Aegon asked confused, trying to turn his head enough to look at her but struggling with her hold still on his hair.

‘Vaegon… for a boy, it combines yours and fathers name’

Aegon grimaced a little and shook his head, he didn’t like himself or the man he had to label father, he didn’t want to tarnish the poor child by naming him after either of them.

‘We’re going to have to choose a name eventually Aegon, we had Aeryn until you decided it was too, and I quote, bashful’ Raenerys chuckled, continuing her assault on her brother’s head.

‘I just don’t want him to grow up to be some fat pervert’

‘I think it’s quite a gallant name... it could still be a girl we should have a name ready in case’

Aegon huffed and pulled his locks out of her grip, turning to rest on his knees facing her. He gently placed both of his hands flat on her bump. The heat radiating off her body never failed to send a glorious shiver down his spine.

‘It is a boy; I can feel it in my bones’ he grinned

Raenerys’ heart could explode looking at him, he had been apprehensive about the whole concept of becoming a father and having another person he was responsible for but, Aegon had never been so excited for something. He had been present when she had decided to have the child’s first pieces of clothing made, he had even helped her pick a shade of green for its basinet. Raenerys had never been so in love with him before, he had stopped all of his unattractive habits and become quite the princely type.

‘However… I have become fond of the name Aerea’

‘That is a beautiful name Aegon, now sit’ She demanded with a face splitting smile.

Once he was positioned on the floor once more, Raenerys began gently sifting through the tangles.

‘What about Rhaegar?’ She questioned.

Their whole evening had been spent like that. Raenerys had spent the last five months obsessing over have a small version of both her and Aegon mixed into one. She would never do anything harm herself or the babe.

Aegon moved around the Maester and quietly entered the chambers. His eyes instantly found her in the bed, sheets pulled over her pale sleeping form. Then he found the small basinet in the corner of the room, he needed to see. Although he was pleased that it was only the babe that had been lost he needed to see their creation. His boots patted the floor gently as he softly moved towards it, he had not thought to prepare himself, it was just a baby, a body. But it was much more than that, it was his child, it was her child. Aegon’s chest clenched when the full body came into sight. The purple tinted skin didn’t bother him, not did it’s disfigured limbs, it under formed hands or feet. It was the face. It was her face, the nose all thin and button like, sat about a pair of plump full lips.

‘The sex?’ Aegon asked when he heard the door creak softly behind him.

‘It was a female, your grace’ Mellos muttered softly.

Aegon chuckled softly, Raenerys had been right. He had been so sure it was a boy but she had been adamant that they needed to have a name for a daughter just in case.

‘She is beautiful’ he muttered.

A small groan from the bed pulled his attention away from the crip. Raenerys was stirring awake, groaning in pain. Aegon quickly made his way to her side, Aemond moved to the end of the bed. Her skin was damp with a sheen of cold sweat, her hair matted and stuck to her forehead. This was not the girl Aegon was used to seeing, yes he had seen her in many states of undress but he had never seen her quite like this. He did not want to get used to seeing her so distressed.

‘Aegon’ Raenerys groaned quietly.

‘I’m here sweet sister I’m here’ he reassured her, taking her hand and holding it tightly.

‘Aegon… I’m… I’m sorry’

‘Hush now! You have done nothing wrong’

Aegon brushed to soaking hair off her forehead and pushed it out of her face. Her skin was so pale and she was so warm, his heart was breaking just looking at her. She grimaced in pain as she shuffled herself into more of a seated position. His hands panicked, not knowing where to go to help her.

‘Mellos, more milk of the poppy!’ he demanded.

The Maester nodded and withdrew himself from the room to fetch some more supplies.

‘The babe… i…’ Raenerys stuttered as she began to well up.

‘I know… she would have been beautiful’ Aegon breathed heavily.

He nodded his head gently at the look she gave him. It was a look of disbelief, asking if she had heard him right when he had said she. More tears flowed down her cheeks and he squeezed her hand tighter.

Aemond stood silently at the end of the bed admiring them. He had been cautious when pitched the idea of allowing his elder brother to remain actively loving his wife, knowing how twisted Aegon’s desires could be. He had not wanted to force his younger sister into something she did not know the full extent of, did not want her to regret her decision of choosing Aegon over him. But watching the way he was sat there comforting her through her pain and anguish, reassuring her that she had done nothing wrong. He could see what she had meant when she had spoken of their souls. They had been made for each other, two separate parts of the same star being lucky enough to find each other immediately.

‘Raenerys… the maester says that the babe was lost because… because you’ve been consuming-‘ Aemond began.

‘I haven’t drank any moon tea, I swear it to you’ Raenerys interrupted him, turning to Aegon as she adamantly informed him.

‘I know you haven’t, I know you wouldn’t but… Mellos was sure that as the cause of the loss, are you sure no one has slipped you anything? Has anyone gifted you anything? Any food or wine?’ Aegon asked softly, his hand still firmly wrapped around hers.

‘No! I have only drank water that Lyana has brought to me’

‘Can she be trusted?’

‘She is my most trusted hand maiden! She has been since we were children’ Raenerys argued

‘The only food I have been gifted was-‘she continued

‘Was what?’

‘The lemon bars mother had me bring to you’ Aemond finished for her

[evansuvamp]

Under A Lustful Moon pt. 1

🌸Pairing: Rudra x female OCs x Shiva 

🌸Warnings: mention of sex (oral, penetration, masturbation, fingering), kinks (restraints, praising, body worship), nudity, dirty talking 

🌸Notes: the reader is consenting! 

IMPORTANT: The authors (@evansuvamp and @riseofamoonycake) have chosen to write a fic with their respective OCs (Scarlet and Tanit), so they are presented with the names and features created by them; but the work can be read as a normal character x reader fic.

You can see the full header pic here. I did with lots of love!

-🌸-

It was a pleasant evening. A smooth and warm wind was blowing, a light breeze full of wet and sandy smells like a sea landscape. And to make it even better, a perfect view from the Svarga, which was printed with the most rich and colorful figures.

Everything there was filling the senses of a pair of old friends: the gods Shiva and Rudra, who weren’t alone at all. 

With them were two beautiful ladies. One of them had the brightest blonde hair, curly and smooth; a cascade of hair falling down her back, her feline gaze full of pleasant promises and the small mouth opened in a lascivious smile, the Moon Goddess Tanit, the Lady of Carthage, was slowly roaming around the high chamber, looking at the two deities sensually lying on the marble floor, lean on soft blankets, cushions and pillows. She was deliberately delaying the moment of joining them, taking all her time to observe them and to be observed, especially seeking and paying attention to Rudra: her great companion, her love. 

The Lord of Storms did nothing but stare at her, his eyes devouring her elegant and haughty figure, which the long scarlet dress only made more sensual.

With each wave of her hair or shadow play on her pale skin, his desire rose until it began to be painful. And she enjoyed seeing him tremble, slightly biting her lips and giggling. 

On the other hand, resting her hands on Shiva’s shoulders, there was a human: a redhead woman with clear skin, which had lots of small moles in many parts of her body. The most recognizable were in the valley of her breast, a half circle, almost like a moon cycle. These moles were arranged in different sizes. Her curvy hair flying with the light breeze. She was devoted to the king of the Hindu Pantheon, that’s why she was allowed to take care of him, even touching him. Also his wives agreed with her presence.

Her name matched the color of her marvelous hair: Scarlet. The young human slowly caressed the purple skin of the god, exchanging some glares with the magnificent goddess while a soft tone of her voice hummed right next to her Lord’s ear, which made him smile a little.

The tension in the air was increasing, and maybe that’s what made Shiva set his eyes into the redhead. He was not that fool to not notice how both females were playing with Rudra and him. That playful atmosphere never failed to turn him on. Even now, some scenes danced inside his head so he sent a quick glance to Rudra, wondering if he was also feeling the intoxicating air full of desire and lust emanating from him.

The God of Storms answered his friend’s silent question sighing and half closing his eyes, large drops of sweat beading his forehead and his hands firmly closed around the soft blankets, waiting for his lady to make her move.

Once again, the females looked at each other in silence, nodding at the same time; and finally Tanit came perilously close, stopping right in front of the gods and glaring at everyone present with the expression of a hungry tiger. «Now…», she fluted then, licking her lips with studied slowness and, immediately after, dropping the gown to the floor in one fluid motion, revealing all the golden jewels that intertwined on her naked skin. Behind her, a big silver moon was rising, its light sliding into her hair like a liquid crown, «… Why don’t we entertain each other?»

… And the night was just starting.

-🌸- 

Everything started time ago, in a day like another. 

«Lady Tanit.» A shy voice called for the goddess. It was the human Shiva brought some months ago. Her red hair was covering some parts of her face.

It wasn’t their first time talking, and she really appreciated the Moon Goddess because of her kindness and warmness. And for that reason, they entrusted themselves with lots of stuff. Even the intimate topics.

«I’m here for you, darling», replied the goddess, closing the book that she was reading and looking at the kind girl in front of her. She liked the human with all her being: she was respectful, caring and bright, a good company for Lord Shiva and a trustful person, a human sincerely devoted to her Lord and with a gentle heart. Tanit couldn’t help but love the humans and she sometimes missed the ancient times, when she was in Carthage among them; so she took Scarlet under her protective wing, it was natural to do so. 

«You know, Lord Shiva is always that playful… And how easy it is for him to be in the mood… I was thinking, how will he react to being teased by us? Do you think Lord Rudra would also join us?» The red lips of the human made a pouting face, wondering if the questions weren’t out of place for the time she was sharing with the goddess. Small and chubby fingers reached for another lock of blonde hair, braiding it with the other two that Scarlet was already grabbing carefully. She liked to brush and braid Tanit’s hair.

Tanit was silent for a moment, surprised at the request; then she curled her lips in a smile, which became a light and gentle laugh. «My, my, you sure know how to light up the nights, don’t you, little one?» The goddess threw back her head to look at Scarlet, then narrowed her eyes and gave the girl a knowing grin. «I think it’s something that can be done… such an idea has been on my mind for a while now, and knowing I’m not the only one doing it piques my interest.» With a gentle gesture, the Lady of the Moon signaled to Scarlet to stop her work and change positions, then she took the brush that the red beauty offered her and began to comb her wonderful hair. «Yes, I have no doubt that together we will come up with something great. We know our lovers well...»

The sudden change in her aura made the redhead curious about the goddess’ thoughts. In fact, her curiosity grew even more with the final comment. Maybe it would be fun. Scarlet smiled as well, allowing Tanit’s hands to brush her hair.

Later, both females were talking about the suggestion Scarlet made early that night. She wasn’t that skilled about intimacy, because not only were books the best source to get information about it, there was also the practice. Something that she, as a human, had never been interested in until now. And that was Shiva’s fault. Scarlet wanted to be more passionate, to show her Lord how good she could be and give him and his wives the same love she always received from them.

Scarlet listened to Tanit carefully, trying not to miss a part of what she was explaining to make the night even better for the four of them.

The goddess knew what she was doing, and the sweet desires that Scarlet kept within herself: for this, and this was the core of the speech, why not realize them immediately? Shiva already greatly appreciated the girl and was intrigued by her, but he still didn’t know her full potential, and neither did she herself; both needed a good test, but under certain conditions…

🌸 

«… Why don’t we entertain each other?»

The echo of Tanit’s voice had not yet died away, and the Lady of the Moon had already swung into action: after undressing herself, she was quick to kneel in front of Rudra and crawl sensually towards him, her gaze locked on the lover’s eyes and barely shaded by her long lashes.

No one would have had any doubts that he would have been her intended victim, but for his part the god was not caught unprepared: he didn’t let escape a moment and with two of his hands grabbed his beloved by the hips and dragged her over him, while the others slipped under the jewels that covered her breasts to caress the nipples. His head snapped forward and his mouth reached up to her neck, biting into the hollow between it and the shoulder and starting to suck, at which point she burst out laughing and wrapped her white arms around his back. «Easy, my love, there’s no need to hurry», she whispered in his ear while her skin was already beaded with drops of sweat and reddened under the hungry touch of the Lord of Storms, who for that evening had forgotten his usual calm and had decided to take her as soon as possible. The goddess let him play with her body without depriving him of the satisfaction of hearing her moan at every caress, bite and pressure on the sensitive skin, but her gaze often went to Scarlet, who in turn stared back at her: everything was proceeding according to plans.

Rudra was enjoying it, may it be because of how sensual and beautiful his favorite goddess was or maybe ‘cause he could sense how the Lady of the Moon managed all the situation. He could tell her stubbornness turned on him even more, and the way she was moving her hips in small circles while he played with her skin made even more noticeable how much their bodies had been missing each other. His lips traced her neck, sucking slowly to cause more moaning.

Scarlet had her cheeks blushing already: she could feel how sensual her lady was. The movements of her hips were so erotic, even when she was just teasing her Lord. Still, Scarlet’s hands made their way through Shiva’s neck to his hard muscles in his chest. The slow grunts from him as a signal of doing a good job. The massage was slow, with little circles, playing with the texture of his skin. From the corner of her eye, she noticed the god throwing his head to the side with his eyes closed. His smirk never disappears. One of his hands came to find Scarlet’s nape, forcing her a little closer so he could whisper: «What are you planning, little one? Hmm?» 

The voice was low, but playful and full of expectations.

He wanted to see her full potential, making her pass some limits and enjoy the time together. 

A small grin appeared on the angelical face. «Nothing, my Lord. I just want to praise and worship you.» She placed a small kiss on his forehead, never stopping the massage. 

Another grunt came from Shiva’s lips and this time it was lower, coming from his throat. The only noise of it made Scarlet’s legs rub together. She loved his voice.

Once again, her eyes returned to her lady, looking for some approval to follow the plan.

«Yes, Lord Shiva… enjoy the time with your girl, you deserve it!», the golden haired goddess added, sweetly smiling at Shiva just before letting out a louder moan and digging her nails deep into Rudra’s back, who in turn muffled his voice against the partner’s shoulder. «You can lie to him, but not to me», replied the Lord of the Storms, taking a deep breath and giving her a slight grin. Two hands rested on her breast and the others grabbed his thighs, Tanit couldn’t have escaped that grip even if she wanted to: not even his gaze showed a sign of letting her go. «I don’t believe a word you said, my lady. What are you planning for us? Come on, share it, we are listening.» As if to give her a little incentive to start, one of the god’s hands slided from Tanit’s thigh to reach her intimacy, and two fingers were quick to find her already wet opening and caress the outermost lips, then pinch them.

Shiva chuckled hearing the goddess barely hold back a cry, then lifted his lids slightly to observe her, focusing on her flushed cheeks and the trembling of her hips and breasts, then turned his head and stared at Scarlet, piercing her with a lascivious look. «These sweet girls... they really think they can hide something from us, eh, Rudra?», he murmured, caressing his lover’s chest up to the neck, then taking her chin between his index and middle fingers and caressing her lips with his thumb. His jewel, his precious little bat… 

That caress was just a warning, she could feel the God of Destruction’s hot breath. Then she was attracted to the front, so Shiva could see her. He raised an eyebrow: her little body was showing some signals of pleasure, indeed, his beloved human was enjoying the tease and Shiva became impatient to take her for his own desires.

«Don’t underestimate us, great Lords», Tanit replied playfully, trying to control the speed of her breath and not give in to the shivers running through her skin, «… or you might be surprised.»

«Are you playing with us?» The two friends spoke at the same time, and at this point the girls started to laugh, the complicity arising in their tune. 

«Some things require patience, my Lord», Scarlet spoke. Her curves were even more noticeable through the light gown she was wearing. The saree was black, her favorite color, it had been modified to some fresh look for the girl’s comfort. Clothing and light played a good silhouette for the god’s view, while the candles’ flame danced through the room; even the slightest movement was caught by Shiva’s vision. And just for that, he brushed his own lips with the tongue. «Well then, I’m beyond interested now. Let us see what you have in mind.» 

Scarlet took apart the veil covering part of her shoulders and bare back, her hips swayed to the left side and her hands took a new position. No music was needed really for them. Slow motions of her curves, along with the jewels she wore most of the time, were enough to make the arousal of her Lord to increase. 

Besides, she was not alone at all: soon, her moon lady escaped from Rudra’s touch and joined the show. Her golden jewelry tinkled in synchrony with her body, and the sight made Rudra go feral easily. He knew the perfection of Tanit’s graceful movements, and the fact that she rarely allowed him to dance together just made the teasing game a little but pleasureable torture.

Scarlet joined Tanit and touched her body, playing with it and caressing her hips. Her body bounced slowly to the sides, making small circles in the air. Soon, the pair of their hips grinded together and they took the opportunity to share a small kiss. Their hands intertwined, both bosoms collided as the kiss became deeper. Scarlet let out small moans, while her lady’s tongue made its way through her mouth. 

Then, Shiva retorted with some impatience: «Come on! That’s cheating! If you keep doing that, I don’t think I can control myself.»

It was an evil game. Rudra tried to be calm but the view was making him totally desperate to feel that burning skin one more time. «Tanit… please, don’t make it longer…» 

The little plea made Tanit smile, while she was still dancing with the little human. It was funny for the ladies but not that much for the great gods. «We told you not to underestimate us», the Moon Goddess replied in a siren voice, slowly turning her eyes to observe Rudra’s pained expression, kissing Scarlet again as she maintained eye contact with him. She loved these moments: when the situation was in her hands and she was in charge, deciding and pulling the strings, and everything depended on her. This was the power she had always wanted to have: not over Carthage, not over peoples, but over her lovers. To be worshiped by them, to dominate them, to take them to the edge was a sadistic pleasure that went beyond that of the flesh, even if she herself felt the weight of that torment on the body. She and Scarlet wouldn’t continue much longer with that teasing, the effect they had obtained was enough and their companions were becoming really impatient and difficult to control; and they, too, were eager to join the lovers once their goal was achieved. They had played enough.

With a slow and fluid movement, and without their mouths separating, Tanit first slid her hands on the girl’s buttocks and squeezed them tightly, eliciting a moan, then took her in her arms and kissed her at the base of the neck, slightly biting. «You are very good, truly exceptional», the goddess praised softly as she carried her into the arms of Shiva, who welcomed his girl and hugged her as if for fear that Tanit would take her away after only one touch. «You had a great time at our expense», he murmured, giving the Moon Lady a burning look and a smirk that promised revenge, «but are you ready to be repaid? Especially you, Lady of Carthage... I know there is your mind behind it all, don’t fool me. You really love to play with fire, hmm?»

Tanit smiled more and more, the answer ready; but Rudra was faster and, grabbing her with all four hands, pressed her to him until she was out of breath, burying his face in her hair. More than before his desire was evident and imbued with irritation and animal hunger, ready to explode. «Shiva is right... you have to make it up to me, my beloved. And now I want to see how you manage to escape me again...», he whispered in her ear as his fingers unhooked and removed her jewels, leaving her completely naked, «try, if you can.»

The goddess only had time to cast a glance at Scarlet, about to suffer the same fate, that the Lord of Storms rolled her under him and anchored her to the soft blankets, squeezing her with his whole body and grabbing her wrists with two hands, while the others were free to caress, tease and slip where they most wanted. The moon was caged by the storm, a roaring, thirsting and demanding calamity.

The god knew his lady’s body well, by now not an inch of her skin was a secret to him: not a mole, not a single mark. For this reason, after playing for a while with all her most sensitive points, he suddenly attacked her hips, stroking them slowly and repeatedly, gently pinching them. 

For Tanit, nothing was more irresistible than being touched and grabbed there, so it didn’t take more than an instant before she began to squirm and pant, her cheeks redder and redder. In her mind all thoughts became confused, invaded by waves of pleasure more and more intense; and almost as if she wanted to get rid of them, she threw her head back on the pillows, exposing the neck.

A more than tempting occasion for Rudra, who attacked it repeatedly with kisses, and then started to go down her chest to reach the breasts, making her tremble under his tongue.

«R-Rudra», she chirped as his lips closed around her nipple, trying to break free from his grip; in response, the god tightened the fingers around her wrists and began to suck, enjoying every gasp and moan she let out, with the clear intention of tormenting her until she was exhausted. The Lord of Storms was delighted, every single sound escaping Tanit’s lips just made him sweat and grunt. His tongue dances slowly around the areola, while his right hand left the hip and started to torment the other nipple; then he freed the goddess' wrists and started having fun with her wet skin. He left a moan out after feeling her gracile hands reaching out his hair, and the soft strokes became hair pulls. Judging by the sexy and loud noises Tanit was letting go, he was doing a good job. Her voice was an authorization to his movements, which made him keep sucking on her nipple, again and again. 

The wet sounds echoed through the beautiful bedroom, making all of them shiver. Her siren-like voice was always tantalizing and not just the gods were affected by it: Scarlet started to feel more and more wetness between her legs, and the kisses her Lord gave to her neck just fueled her desire to the highest point. She moaned loudly when Shiva’s teeth marked it slowly, sucking the tender flesh as his right upper arm played with her soft thighs. «It seems like you enjoy it, hm?», Shiva’s low tone rang in her ears, a wet sensation made her tremble and then, the sharp teeth touched just a little of her earlobe. That panting voice mixed with Tanit’s and Rudra smiled, giving a glance to her eyes. 

He noticed her nipples hardening, just the same way as his dick. Suddenly, he stopped licking to pinch them in slow round movement. His bottom arms kept the beautiful and plush legs open for him, and another smirk appeared on his face, noticing how wet she was. «Is all of this for me? It looks so sweet, I’ll have a taste.» Rudra bent, leaving small kisses all over her sweet and plump skin. As soon as he found her pubis, his arms secured her legs to keep her still, he knew how sensitive she was: that’s why he enjoyed teasing her in such a way. Grabbing her so tightly would make her feel vulnerable when his tongue licked the round, pink pearl. 

She squirmed, moaning for the cool sensation as Rudra gave another lick, this time accompanied by a little bit of biting. Guided by her moans louder and louder, Rudra added more tension to the hot session, starting to suck on it as his eyes locked with hers. «Mmh… What is it, eh? Do you enjoy yourself, Little Moon?», a husky voice came from his mouth. He knew a storm was building up in her core.

The Moon Goddess was in rapture with the skilled wet muscle of her beloved Lord. «Oh my… Rudra…» Another subtle bite was given. Rudra’s teeth weren’t as sharp as Shiva’s but still the feeling was enough to tame Tanit. Her hips rolled up, trying to feel more of him as her hands pulled the raven locks of his hair. She wanted more of his sweet and rough ways of love. «More, Rudra… I want more… Ah!», she jolted, and Rudra moved his tongue until meet those sweet folds which called him.

Once again, Tanit pant loudly, enjoying the way her Lord worshiped her body. He knew how to embrace her, to tame her desires. But it was never enough. She loved to be at his mercy and feel their bodies rolling, sweating and intertwined. Right now she was lost of words, lips parted, eyes half-lidded and sweat running through her body. «Tell me, my queen… Mmh… Answer», his voice changed. He wanted to know, he wanted her to scream how good she felt when he ate her out.

No answer came, Tanit wanted to play and not giving Rudra what he wanted was the perfect way to join the game. But it lasted shortly: a finger slipped easily in her folds. He showed her a smirk, adding the second finger and still holding her legs with the bottom arms, while the other was free to roam on her body. It helped him to tease her clit easily and pump his fingers inside her. «If you refuse to talk, then I can make you answer with this», hunger and lust were placed in his voice, working her body. He adored her. 

Tanit's shaking voice increased with the pace of his fingers but still managed to reply his demands. «So good… Please, my Lord… Don’t stop. Make it harder… Hah! I’m going-»

But he stopped. A wide smile formed in his face, loving how flustered and upset she was.

As this happened, Scarlet was starting to struggle to keep her powerful Lord at bay, who continued to torment her sensitive earlobe for a while as all of his hands moved along her face and neck, stroking and squeezing his treasure’s beautiful skin. This felt very much like a sensual punishment, a slow, simmering torture to teach an overly bold and disobedient subject where she belonged. Shiva was hungry for her flesh and did nothing to hide it; on the contrary, he probably also felt pain from holding back, yet he continued to do so, in order not to give Scarlet the physical satisfaction she craved for.

The redhead sighed deeply, shaking under a shiver when two of the Lord of Destruction’s hands slid along her shoulders and the fingers began to run along her arms, the fingertips just resting on them in a very light caress. «A torment for a torment, my lovely bat. Some mistakes cost dearly, sweet girl», he whispered to her just before leaning forward, suddenly interrupting the caresses and giving her a slight push. With a small cry of surprise, Scarlet slid off the god’s lap and onto the soft blankets, and immediately afterward she found herself surrounded by his arms, ensnared by his burning eyes and triumphant grin. It wasn’t the growing pressure of Shiva’s body on hers that made the girl blush; not the arms ever tighter around her, tense not to leave to her even the imagination of being able to escape, nor the knee that slipped between her legs to keep them open and rubbed softly against her opening dripping with fluids and delights, nor the low, heartless laugh that only she could hear… but the shadows that suddenly began to dance on the face of her lover, making him look like a creature of darkness and secrets, an entity that has come from the Night itself to kidnap her and make her his, only his. 

Rudra had brought the storm even to the sky, for the sweet moon had fallen into the hands of black clouds which deprived the chamber of much of its light: and from that darkness neither the goddess nor the girl could find salvation, as it had come just for them.

One frowning and the other hesitant, both bent by the impulses they felt in their bodies but which their loved ones didn’t want to satisfy, the two ladies looked at each other for a moment; the next instant their respective companions grabbed their attention again by turning their faces to look at them, then both Rudra and Shiva burst out laughing. 

«You two will drive us crazy», the first murmured, leaning over Tanit's forehead to give her a kiss, before doing the same service to her mouth, «but we love you for that too. Come on, open your golden doors to me, my great queen, this time I'll give you all the pleasure you want», he said while wrapping his arms around the Lady of the Moon as he covered her chin and neck with more kisses, making her smile again.

Shiva looked at the two with a smile, then returned his focus solely to his young devotee.

Scarlet opened her arms without hesitation when the god stretched out on her body and crouched on her belly, rubbing the nose against the hollow between her breasts and kissing her skin. «Aaah, now what am I supposed to do with you, my little flower?», he purred, enjoying her caresses and eyeing her sideways like a cat, «I should thank you for always making me so hungry... but you’ll be able to hold on long enough to let me do it properly… or you’ll faint for me?»

«Do with me what you will, my Lord», Scarlet’s soft voice answered him, her eyes filled with stars and his same hunger, «I’m here for you.»

«And that’s what I want», replied the Lord of the Dance as he leaned on two of his arms and lifted his torso just enough to advance up her body, stopping when their two faces were at level, «and you know it, my adorable chick.»

«My Lord… I really love you», Scarlet’s arms passed through his upper limbs with a snake-like touch, until they were around his neck. She smiled, leaning to meet her Lord’s lips, eye contact all the time. Her lips parted a little, to allow his tongue to seek the wanted dominance of hers as always. A small pant escaped the red and plump lips from the human, as her hips made a slight trust against the god. He replied doing another one, playfully, he wanted to tease her even when she was already soaking between her legs.

For the friends gods, this was going to a crazy level and they needed some release soon. The body language never lied, and all the kisses, wet sounds reverberated through their room doing a perfect harmony for the heated session. Scarlet reached for Shiva’s hair, pulling slowly while her lips hid between his neck. Small bites and marks were left along the muscles, caressing the blue tattoo easily. Shiva grunted, using the right bottom hand to meet Scarlet’s hips. She was being naughty again and he won’t last a second more waiting for her.

She could read his expression when his muscles tensed above her, so the next she knew was a ripping sound, of course it was from her own clothes. Shiva surely liked to destroy things and he was serious about it. The thin silky fabric was thorn easily, leaving just some shreds around and a devilishly grin from the God of Destruction. Scarlet maintained her eyes on him, feeling how the hunger flames seemed to burn her alive with every single caress. Before he could take another step, she used her legs to trap him. «Lord Shiva… Do I give you pleasure?» Her question was just a fake concern, she just wanted to earn some time and enjoy his alluring voice while the plan started.

«Oh my sweet one, you know very well that you do it. You light up the flame inside me and make me feel in rapture. Just a little touch of yours can make me fall instantly for you… My devoted girl… You give lots of pleasure, love and kindness. So that’s why I want to take you to the next level every time. Are you ready for me?» A lascivious smile came from those plump lips, running his hands through the bottoms of his human girl. For him, patience was becoming zero and his breath started to increase, kissing her deeply.

Now, Scarlet reached for his strong arms for support. She knew that god was a complete steel man, his iron force would never let her go and do as she pleased soon. Scarlet stopped the kiss and took him between her small hands, «My Lord, would you let me take some initiative this time? I just want to worship you in every possible way… I want to be yours, and only yours…» Her voice was smooth, wanting to crush her own barriers and start to make a move for him.

The small left hand traveled down his torso, caressing the hard skin. All his muscles were tonified and tensed, his breath hitched when she touched his pelvis. By this moment, Shiva was completely lost in her, throwing his head aside and enjoying those touches. A small moan came out at the light pressure Scarlet put onto him and it became louder just in a quick movement she made. It was also hard for her, because even if it was just a few octaves, Shiva used that voice of his to take her to nirvana. Her thighs were sweating with the new posture, she above him and Shiva allowing the pleasure to increase. He was about to come when she stopped, another groan completely upset came out and she smiled, climbing to his body. «May I ride you, my Lord?» He was huge, she knew that but still, she wanted to take him, restrain his will and make both of them enjoy each other.

On the other hand, Rudra stared at Tanit’s body, running his fingers between the last jewels left on her. He took some of them between his teeth, just to play with her. The make out was passionate, they could feel it around their skin. The lord of Storms lined up with her body, a pair of arms on both sides of her beautiful and feminine curves. His eyes never let her break their connection. Then he said: «Sweet moon… Am I allowed to give you all the pleasure now? We both know this won’t last a minute more… I need to feel your beautiful body shiver under me. And I know you want me to please you, to touch and fuck you so hard…» last thing was a low whisper, while he placed a kiss behind her ear.

Tanit looked at him, her eyes shining like golden gems, filled with desire and adoration, and sat down, urging the god to do the same thing. Her hands slid up his chest in sinuous circular motions, finally closing around his breasts and gently massaging his nipples: she knew very well how irresistible it was for him, as much as for her to be touched on the hips, and stared at him, who tilted his head back and took a deep breath, his skin covered with new beads of sweat and two of his hands convulsively gripping the covers, the others closed around her wrists and trembling under the light torture. «Yes, I want you to take me», she replied, leaning her face against his chest and rubbing her nose on it, then kissing the hot skin, «I want to feel you inside me. You are so good at making me scream, and I have been too sadistic with you… so, take your time: you know how I like it, deep and slow. I am in your able hands, my only Lord: I am your love slave.»

Rudra clearly heard the slight provocative note in her words ― who really was the slave between them? ―, but he paid no attention to it, enchanted by her gaze as he was; also, the Lady of the Moon was quick to jump on the lover’s lap and, freeing the wrists from the grip, threw her arms around his neck and dug the nails into the nape. «Go», her honeyed voice murmured to him, the lips an inch from his and the belly rubbing against his muscles, «the moon wants to get full for you.»

This was the watchword: unable to hold back any longer, Rudra grabbed Tanit with all the four hands and pressed her against his chest, while she wrapped her legs around his hips and her moist opening begged to be filled. The god slid into his beloved moon with ease and both gasped as their bodies united, then he began to move calmly, pounding into her sensually and deeply, breathing rapidly while she seconded every movement with her pelvis. The urgency to give and take all the promised pleasure manifested itself in the iron grip with which they held the other’s flesh and kept looking at each other, inflaming the gaze with smiles and everything that escaped their mouths and bodies: whispers, cut words, short breaths, moaning and panting, and the Tanit’s sharp nails deeply marking the nape of Rudra’s neck and then tracing bright red roads along his back, making the skin quiver under the mix of pain and delight that the god was feeling.

Usually at this time, the goddess leaned her head on his shoulder or threw it back, snuggling against him or letting her neck be marked; in that night, however, she continued to stare at his face for long minutes, with the clear intention of seeing his every reaction, even if the continuous and well-aimed thrusts made her moans higher and higher and her eyes began to ooze gold and silver tears, as they always did when she felt an almost unbearable pleasure. «More», she whispered to her lover, «I know you can hold on… on… hold on for me. Do it for me, do it... please! Please, again! Ah!»

Without saying a word, Rudra surrendered completely to his own desires and those of his lady and leaned forward, laying her on the blankets and covering her with his body, harpooning the fabric with two hands as the others positioned themselves on the goddess’ hips to hold her in place. The thrusts became stronger and if possible even deeper, also favored by her fingers, still tormenting his back; and while the love making seemed destined to last forever and to grow in intensity, she was going to faint, losing all of herself, while the great heat she felt became almost nil and the nerves slowly lost resistance to consciousness. Never, never before Rudra fucked her dumb with such strength and urgency; and she loved every second of it almost desperately, fearing that she was only living a dream and none of this was happening: especially, that the god had never been real, that he had never loved her, that the happiness and peace she felt from when he had entered her existence it was only an illusion.

«Oh no, you are not running anywhere. Come back to me», Rudra murmured when he saw her eyes blur and detach from reality, leaning closer to her and slowly biting her lips; she gasped and let out a choked cry, wrested from her fears with the delicate firmness that only he possessed, and met his flaming gaze a short distance from hers, waiting for her return. «Your thoughts have to know there is no place for them tonight», he said with a sweet smile, pressing her hips harder and kissing her cheeks, mouth and neck, «you are all mine, you have to feel everything I do to you.» As if to underline the words he had just uttered, the Lord of Storms gave a stronger thrust, taking her breath away for the umpteenth time: and her body vibrated and trembled, making her realize that she was close to the climax and suggesting the same thing to the god. The belly of the Moon Goddess stretched out towards that of her lover, who slowly massaged it with one of his free hands, just pinching the navel, and then slid the other under her, to stroke her back and help her free herself. Tanit’s hands grabbed the ones pressed on her hips, and with a sigh she had her first orgasm of the evening.

«Good girl», whispered Rudra, embracing his golden goddess and slipping to the side to change positions and roll under her, without stopping pounding. «You deserve to dominate me. Come on, my lady, ride me as you like, the reins are yours.» A second orgasm followed soon after, but the series was destined to be long: Tanit had known for some time what to expect during her nights with the lover, his voracity melted her skin in shivers at least as much as the energies with which he tested her resistance.

«My love, so you really want to drive me crazy…», she murmured, taking two of his hands and bringing them to her breasts, as she let the others slide down her buttocks and squeeze them; before he could answer, she motioned him to stop for a moment and, in front of his delighted gaze, undid the ponytail, freeing the long locks and sending them sliding down his back and over both of their chest, and on Rudra's fingers.

«Look at my sweet lynx», the god commented, stroking her curls and bringing them to his mouth to kiss them one by one. He was the only one allowed to touch, caress and even lick them, a great honor for him, «we aren’t joking at all, aren’t we?»

She leaned over him and poured her hair around their faces, a soft golden curtain that separated them from all the rest of the world, even from Scarlet and Shiva. «Hmmm… I’ll be all yours, but you belong to me. And now, don’t you feel like you’ve been standing still for too long?» Placing her hands on his chest, Tanit rotated her hips and began dictating a new rhythm, immediately feeling shivers of pleasure invade her flesh and mind. «Leave it all to me. Trust me, puppy, mommy is here.»

«Tanit… Tanit…» This time it was Rudra’s turn to reach the climax: his lady’s hair lightly tickling his cheeks and neck, her nails gripping his chest like the claws of a hungry feline, her little mouth stimulating and testing his throat and his neck cords, the dance she forced him to do with her hips, every move added ever more uncontrollable pleasure: he was losing his mind and giving it all to her, the goddess was holding him firmly in her white hands and playing with him as she pleased, teasing him, slowly sucking away his lucidity. He, he was the true slave, and she the sweet and sadistic mistress delighted by every moan and gasp and murmur released by his lips. «Come for me, my Lord», whispered the moon siren, repeatedly stroking his nipples and receiving a louder moan in return, «come on, free yourself for me.» He kept chanting her name like a prayer and the grip of his hands tightened on her flesh, making her smile wider and stimulate him again and again. She was in heaven, at the pick of delight, and all this thanks to her great partner. «I love when you adore me in this way…», she praised him softly, then kissed him on the lips, «you really are the beloved heart of the moon.»

He came while she was kissing him for the second time. The goddess felt his body relax and distend under her touch, his hands becoming more delicate and gently caressing her; so she pulled away from his mouth to rub her nose against his. «Good boy», she fluted, stroking his hair and face, «you know that I love you more than my existence, right?»

«I know it very well… but I want it more», he whispered, panting heavily, his teary eyes full of love and veneration for his moon. «Please, love me again. I want to… I want to be fucked another time by your perfect body. Take me again.»

«How insatiable we are⁓» she laughed, standing over him and throwing her head back, her eyes sparkling with euphoria, «but don’t worry, I’ll gladly obey: I too want to feel you inside me a thousand times...» She stopped for a moment and glanced at Scarlet, who in tacit agreement replied with a silent look, «but first, there is something our little girl and I have to do… a present for you and our Lord Shiva.» Without waiting any longer, Tanit slid down from Rudra’s body and jumped to her feet, her skin covered in bites and love marks of all kinds, to then bend down to the ground and collect the jewels that the god’s ardor had scattered around. Her hands were soon filled with the golden chains with which she used to cover her body, and when she stood up, in her gaze there was a new light and a smile more similar to a grin.

«What... What do you want to do? Hey!» Shiva threw his head back, looking at the goddess from below, as soon as he saw her approaching him out of the corner of his eye; then he returned his attention to Scarlet, who with the speed of a snake and unsuspected strength had grabbed two of his wrists and held them tight, waiting for Tanit. «Don’t be afraid», the girl chirped, an innocent smile painted on her gorgeous face, «you will like it and thank us, later. Trust my words, my Lord.»

«Listen to her», Tanit went on, grabbing his other two wrists and smiling at him affably and warmly, «we will make you happy.»

«I don’t believe a word you―»

Both ladies bent over his face and kissed him on the mouth at the same instant, depriving him of any possibility of replying and making his eyes widen in surprise; then, the subtle click of a lock or something like that filled the air, and Tanit let out a silvery laugh. «Now try to move, if you can! Come on, use all your strength!», she breathed into his ear, lasciviously stroking his cheeks as she withdrew to contemplate the work, and Scarlet did the same.

More and more astonished and now also agitated, Shiva stared at his hands: a refined but very strong golden weave, the most precious gold Carthage had ever created and Tanit blessed with her powers and love, caged his wrists, tying them one to the other above his own head, effectively immobilizing all his arms. Firmly anchored to the ground, a long pin held all the chains in place, further limiting the god’s possibilities of movement, who was therefore completely at the mercy of the two. «What… What! Why? What are you two going to do to me? Answer!»

«You will see for yourself, Lord of Destruction», Tanit replied, throwing her hair back and waddling elegantly towards Rudra, who, propped up on his elbows, watched the scene with rapt eyes and a deep blush on his face, «indeed, you will both see it: you, and my beloved storm.»

Without putting up any resistance, Rudra suffered the same fate as Shiva, but he never took his elongated eyes off the goddess: thus, she had this in mind when she let her hair down; and probably, somehow, it was she who had goaded him into take off her jewels to later use them for a methodically concocted plan, woven together with Scarlet’s skilful mind. Those two… «Torture me all the time you want», he whispered as she closed her hands around his wrists, wrapping them in a cold grip, «but remember that sooner or later you’ll have to free me, and you’ll pay for everything.»

Scarlet smiled, then hooked all the chains to the pin, snatching a small gasp from him when she had to pull: now he was her prisoner in every way, unable to defend himself from her torturing fingers, and he had to accept whatever she would have reserved for him. «I’m not going to make you feel pain, fear not: you deserve only the greatest pleasure, and I don’t want to deny it to you. However, I also desire to fully enjoy your beautiful and strong body, so… so now get ready for a second session of warmth and love, as I promised before.»

«Are… are you going to torment me again until I am at my limit? Aren’t you?»

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YOU DON'T KNOW HOW EXCITED I AM FOR THIS! We worked together and it was truly a wonderful experience! We hope you like it and, wait for the second part!