#erecting the Veil?? WE ALL KNOW HOW WELL THAT WENT

[attractthecrows]

extremely funny to me how solas literally cannot catch a single break. not a SINGLE ONE of his plans has gone off correctly. score 0/3

[theeighthtitan]

Dragon age thoughts...

I'm replaying dai and I'm getting the vibe that Andruil might have been the one to create the blight.

Reason one: when you talk to Solas about the grey wardens and their plan to find the old gods and kill them before they could start a blight... He is just so unbothered by the IDEA of the blight that it's just not something you would go to that extreme over.

Reason two: Andruil went to the void and fought "forgotten ones" and got sick in the head over it. Mythal had to stop her and take the "knowledge of how to get to the void" out of her brain

Reason three: That makes me wonder if Mythal/Flemeth know how to deal with/not get the blight. She rescued the grey wardens out of a dark spawn filled tower... She lived in the kokari wilds, where the blight started, where the dark spawn were swarming. The dark spawn that poison and blight anything they're even near.

Reason four: here we get to my wild supposings... The eluvians and access to the crossroads were turned off following a war between the elves so enemies could not get to them (as stated by a morrigan who drank the well and did not have keiran)... There is also a codex entry where if the inquisitor drinks the well talking about the elves at the temple of mythal. It says they are "trapped" (probably when Solas erected the veil) and "the ones born here do not understand the keeness" of what they have lost, or "why so many elders weep as they enter uthenera." What if the ancient elves had like... Tons of little pocket dimensions right? Accessible thru elluvian. I'm assuming bc, when you go with morrigan the to the crossroads the gate you come out of has like little statues on either side of each elluvian. What if the elven gods all had their own little pocket dimensions? And the black city is Andruil's bc ........ She also has this entry where her followers were begging her not to use a big ol weapon on them. What if it was the blight? Or an anti blight weapon? But! What if the magisters entered the fade and went to like a quarantine zone (bc they say they tried going to the golden city and it was empty). What if it was blighted, they got blighted and brought it back to the "real" world?

[sweetestlamb]

Walk Through A Storm

Author's note: Honestly, like I could help myself from doing this. it's short because I need to actually get my life together but enjoy. Oh also I don't wanna think anymore so someone give me title in the comments lol I'll pick the one that fits the best. (Thanks for actually giving suggestions, one really spoke to me!)

Summary: "I'm not ready to stop kissing you yet."

"I thought you were going to reject me." She whispers in between the small space between them, their lips are close enough to meet again in another soul burning kiss and he's tempted to close the gap again. They can talk later so for the second time in his life he wants to be selfish, she brings that out in him; makes him hungry for more than he thinks he deserves. She's been doing that since he first met her.

"I'm not ready to stop kissing you yet." Her eyes widen at his whispered words and without pause he leans closer softly pressing his lips against hers. She tastes sweet like the best candy he could never get as a young boy. Her little hands slide up his back dragging him closer and he goes easily, his walls are saw dust at this point and she's a windstorm. Wrapping his arms fully around her body he pulls her closer, cupping the back of her head as he swipes his tongue at the seam of her lips. She gasps in a way that makes his blood bubble and flow southward. The sea roars besides them providing the soundtrack to their first cognizant kisses. Hopefully the first of many.

The kiss drags and overlaps, her tongue persistent in his mouth and her hands busy stroking and rubbing at his back. It takes all of his willpower to sever their connection but he's starting to feel light-headed (and horny). This all still seems like a dream ever since he saw her running over to him, when she was supposed to be in Seoul. Leaving without telling him. Making him think the worst.

"Why do you look like you want to cry?" She cups his cheeks and he's reminded of that unforgettable night. She looks so concerned that he wants to disappear not used to being on the receiving end of such looks.

"Nothing. I'm fine." He tries to brush her off, viciously wiping at his eyes but she doesn't let him push her away, grabbing his hands tightly in her own. "Tell me what you're thinking. I told you everything in my head."

He almost chuckles at her expectant gaze. She sounds like him demanding payment.

"People usually leave but you're the first...to come back early." He smiles sadly thinking about all the people he'll never see again, and how he considered that she might go back to Seoul and realize that she was much too big for the pond that was Gongjin. He wouldn't have stopped her, she deserved the whole world.

"The first hm. I like that." He stares at her face, grinning at the satisfied grin and the enveloping dimples on both sides of her face.

"A daughter with your dimples would be dangerous, I think I'd understand how Chun-jae feels then." She pauses at his words mouth gaping and it hits him just what he's implied about their future. It's presumptuous and he should correct it but his tongue feels too heavy and her bright eyes suck the air from his lungs.

"Where's Mi-Seon? How did you get back so quickly?"

"Oh." She jumps cutely, suddenly hitting him on the shoulder and he winces ready to scold her for hitting him so close to his injury. But then she starts hitting herself on the head and instinctively he grabs her, stopping the self inflicted abuse.

"Stop that. I like that head." It's cheesy, something he would have cringed at if he heard another utter it but once he sees the smile she rewards him with none of that matters anymore, he'll say anything to make her beam like that.

"You're such a flirt." She fails at sounding bothered. "Oh and I left her in Seoul. It started raining and I realized you were it for me so I ran into the rain and left her on the sidewalk. Crazy right?" She starts snickering at her own words and he stares at her taken aback laughter forced out of his lungs at her infectious giggles.

She comes into his house like she belongs there, going to his fridge without permission and grabbing a bottle of water. He feels parched watching her drink it, never before has he wished to be a plastic bottle. So many firsts with her.

"What are you staring at?" She tilts her head like a bunny and he can't get the image of her with floppy ears out of his head.

"Cute."

"What?" She blushes furiously at his accidental slip and he clears his throat before grabbing his phone, desperately needing a distraction.

"Nothing. I'll call someone to pick up Mi-Seon."

"Who are you calling?" She asks walking over to him, sitting far too closely for his brain to function at maximum capacity. When a deep familiar masculine voice answers she squeals, bouncing in her seat and giving him thumbs up. He feels so proud he could burst.

"Don't say no. She's all alone and abandoned. What if something happens to her? Could you live with yourself?" He replies to the stuttering officers weak refusals and those are the right words to get the meek man moving, it's comical that he would be playing matchmaker for anyone else.

"You're a master manipulator." She accuses and he stares in surprise, "Does it upset you?" But she surprises him by leaning closer, spread deliciously across his compact couch. "No. It's sexy." Her face is glorious under the soft lighting in his living room and he swallows the drool collecting in his mouth, embarrassed when it starts a coughing fit. She thumps his back firmly before thrusting her water at him, "Drink." He listens obediently.

He gulps at the bottle, taking a deep breath before collapsing backwards into the couch.

"Am I making you nervous?" Making. As if it's only a present occurrence, as if she hasn't been making him swallow his words and expectations from the very beginning. He shifts looking at her through narrowed eyes.

She's far too innocently twirling her hair blinking up at him with wide eyes.

"You're doing this on purpose." She smiles serenely at the claim, leaning back onto the couch and by default his arm that's strewn across the top. She presses her body into the side of his body and he tightens his hold on her shoulder. It all feels too natural.

"I'm surprised it's working. You never seemed affected by me. You denied liking me so easily. Biological crisis, my ass."

He jumps at her cursing, she sounds too much like her father. It makes him smirk.

"I thought I had to. You were right, we are so different. I thought it was something fleeting for you, you told me you're someone who gets curious."

"Pfftt. You think I get curious about just anyone? I have high standards. I'm quite a catch you know?" Her signature bravado, but this time he can see through the veil better. Can spot the cracks and tears and it makes him want to protect her even more.

"I know. You're the best thing I've ever caught."

He'll never grow tired of being the reason that face turns so pink and flushed. (Immediately pushing aside an image of her beneath him.)

"Wait here. I have something for you." He wants to argue as she starts to leave his embrace but she's too quick for his grabby hands and he pouts at her unwanted departure. He moves to follow her but she's back before he's even finished putting on his shoes.

"Where did you go? We could have gone together."

"What? Did you miss me?" She teases, dimples flashing up at him.

"Don't be absurd." He denies but his cheeks burn yes.

"Whatever. I went to get this. Here." She thrusts a large bag at him, looking excited and embarrassed all at once. He takes it confused, prying it open and feeling more confusion wash over him.

"These are men's shirts." He says dumbly and she stares unimpressed at him, rolling her eyes before nodding.

"Yes. I got them for you in Seoul. Keep them even if you don't like them. They're a gift." She looks so small and... scared that he reacts without thinking, dragging his shirt over his head and throwing it to the side. The sight that welcomes him as his head pops out of the hole is not a new one, but it's still as effective as the first time. Hye Jin looks desperate, eyes locked on his now naked chest. His skin raises under her intense gaze.

"Miss Dent--Hye Jin ah?" His call doesn't do anything, well that's a lie it doesn't knock her back to reality like he'd expect instead it seems to be the siren call that lures her closer to him. Her hand outreached before landing on the tense muscles in his stomach, with one touch he already feels devastated.

"What are you doing to me?" He aches to feel and touch and kiss and fuc-

But it's too soon for all that. They haven't even defined this yet and despite all the lines they've crossed he wants to do this right.

Taking a step back he escapes her torturous touch and pulls a shirt from the bag, ready to cover himself back up from her too penetrating gaze.

"Wait." Her voice is so raspy and longing he has no choice and he watches mesmerized as she watches him hungrily, eyes darting all over his naked skin dissecting him. He swallows hard when he sees her little hands balled up in fists by her side. Disbelief swirling in his belly. "Okay. You can do it. That's enough....for now."

His cheeks flare at the seductively spoken words and to stop himself from devouring her like a starved man he slides on a smooth button down shirt. It fits him perfectly and gulps as he buttons it up. Nobody besides his grandfather ever bought him clothes.

"It's a perfect fit." Hye Jin echoes his thoughts smoothing a hand across the soft material. He stands ramrod straight at her ministration.

"Thank you. I'll wear it well." His throat is thick and he has to blink to chase away the tears pooling there, dangerously close to falling. She hums before stepping forward into his space again, that kiss effectively tearing down all the walls and lines they had both erected and drawn.

"You're already wearing it so well. But...it looks even better off. I can't wait to see it on my bedroom floor."

A scandalized squeak is all he's able to get out before she's diving at him and devouring his lips so roughly that they tumble onto the floor.

The pain in his shoulder is worth it as she kisses him senseless systematically driving out every doubt and insecurity. At least for tonight.

[blkgirl-writing]

"Unforgettable" Sokka x Woc!reader smut

Summary: Sokka can't get a dirty image of you out of his mind.

Warnings: sexualization of the female body, because we are queens. Male masterbation, cursing.

A/n: First Sokka Smut!!! It's not quite a full smut, but it's getting there. I'm proud of this one. As in nearing the end of my binge of Atla, I keep falling deeper in live with this boy. I set up a part 2, but we shall see if it gets one. Please leave some feedback if you want another one!

Sokka couldn't get you out of his mind. The memory of your body seeping into every single thought of his. Pure intentioned or not, you ended up in the front of his brain.

Water dripped down your glowing skin, the light shining down on you like a beam of pure beauty. Water around you glimmering like gems.

You stood in the cool water just above your knees. Your fingers were tangled deep in your hair, finally taking the time to detangle the locks, hair brushing your skin as you hummed a tune he didnt know.

Sokka stood there, balancing himself on a tree, about two seconds away from biting off his bottom lip.

"Oh! Sokka. Hey." You greeted, shooting him a soft, kind smile. Thing is, you didn't bother to cover up, to sink into the water, or use your arms to cover as much as you could. No. You just looked at him, and it took all of his might to not just melt right there.

"I was just taking a bath. Did you wanna come in?" Sokka blinked, keeping his eyes on yours, not daring to look back down. You were both adults, he shouldn't feel like a schoolboy, looking at a pair of boobs for the first time. but he does. He's staring at the curve of your breasts, the valley between them, the dips of your hips. You're fully enchanting him.

"I uh...just...I should get back to the camp. I just got a bit lost. I'm sorry. Keep uh, doing your thing. No hurry. Take your time-" and just like that, he was off, leaving you alone in the pond.

Fuck. He was rock hard. Shit.

Fucking dumbass. You had invited him in with you, clearly. But you were also his friend, and he didn't think you saw him like...that. sure, you were the adults of the group, and had always had something, but sokka couldn't fully accept the idea of the two of you. At least, until he saw you naked.

Everything shifted. The rest of the day, he kept to himself. Fingers seeming to always fiddle with his boomerang, or sharpen his blade. He couldn't keep still for the life of him, and it wasnt like it went unnoticed. Toph told him to fuck off, Katara asked him if he was okay. He needed to blow off some steam. And some fighting practice just wasnt gonna do it.

Sokka was the last one to go to his tent, waiting until the moon was well into the sky, and everyone was sound asleep.

He settled himself in hid tent, propping himself up slightly with a pillow. He could see the outline of his erection through his pants, practically begging for attention. It had almost gotten painful. Sokka eagerly pushed down the fabric to his thighs. His dick already leaking precum down the swollen tip.

His hand trailed down his stomach, slowly wrapping his fingers around his cock, gently taking himself in his hand, pumping himself just enough to release some of the pressure of the day.

Sokka didn't try to suppress the desire anymore, letting his imagination go wild, dreams that he never admitted to.

He imagined your fingers working at his dick rather than his own hand, your lips wrapped around the top, staring at him as you worked your way to deepthroating him. Cheeks hollowd around his cock, his hands weaving through your hair, grasping for his dear life.

Your body, burned into his mind. The fight practices you had together, when sweat dripped down your skin, hair messy and coming out of your braids. How your lips parted as you heaved in breaths. The way you licked your lips, bit them when concentrating.

"Y/n! Fuck, yes!" His voice came out far, far louder than intended. His free hand went to cover his mouth, but he didn't stop pumping. He was so, so close, he couldn't stop now. He would hear if someone came near. The vision of you in his mind started to blur, eyes nearly rolling back into his head from the pleasure.

"Hey, sokka-Oh"

you stood still at the opening of the tent, eyes wide, completely unable to look away from the scene in front of you. It had just...happened so fast. One second you hear a strangled moan and sokka shouting your name, the next you see him with his cock in his hand, cum dripping down his fingers, some splattered on his stomach. No, it was far too good to keep your eyes off of. His face was a but flushed, a thin veil of sweat on his skin. Splayed out like a god in a sculpture.

"I uh-" Sokka stuttered, looking around for something, anything, to cover his crotch with.

"I thought I heard my name and-" you blinked, lips parted, heavy, deep breathes being the only thing from keeping you from passing out. The air was thick, warm, sweaty, it smelled overwhelmingly of sex.

"Look, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt anything-you just keep, uh, having fun." It was a sorry excuse to leave, but you did. Quickly stepping back and turning around. Letting out a deep, long, haggled breath.

"Wait! One second, fuck-" Sokkas voice came through the canvas, sounds of him stumbling around clear in the otherwise calm, quiet night.

"I didn't mean to say your name, I swear, it just slipped out and it sounded quieter than I thought-"

"It's okay, really, I don't mind at all." It came out much, much more...needy, than you'd wanted. This wasn't exactly how you'd imagined telling sokka that you found him attractive (usually, they ended with some sort of rejection, even in dreams.) You were just...a bit stunned. Trying to convince yourself that it really was a mistake, acting like this had been the first time he had said it. But, the few times you had to share a bed, or slept in close quarters, you heard the same thing, and that wasn't something you could just brush away.

"Oh." Sokka sighed, like a weight was lifted from his shoulders. But, only one of many. His shoulders were still tense, jaw still clenched.

"Sokka, I really don't want you to feel bad for what you were doing." You reached for his hand, just brushing your own with his, making sure he knew you were there, and it was okay, more than okay.

"I'm a fucking perv, that's what I am." He muttered, eyes glued to the floor. You could almost hear his brain overheating.

"No! No, it's natural to get yourself off-"

"Fucking hell," sokka really, truly wanted to die. Right there and then. Life no longer worth living, at least not after this.

"It's not as bad as you think, sokka." Your voice was soft, trying to be as comforting as possible, for you and sokka. You were so glad sokka wasn't able to look at you, cause your pure lust and neediness was crystal clear on your face.

"How?" He wanted nothing more than to apologize and curl up into a ball.

"Because I liked hearing you say my name like that." He never understood how you could say the most intense things with such ease. The weight of the words crystal clear, yet almost hummed.

"Say that again," It was dumb, but, he wanted to hear you say it again. He needed you to.

"Because I thought you saying my name like that was a dream come true." You smiled, gaze settling to the stars above, just for a bit of release. To make confessing a bit easier. "I loved it when you moaned my name."

"Wh..."

"Sokka, use your words."

"I was using words!" Sokka shot back.

"Were you thinking of me when you were masterbating?" You almost choked on the words, feeling yourself cringe at how it came out. Almost desperate. Needing him to say yes. Pleading that the dream last a bit longer.

"Yeah," Sokka breathed in deep, exhaling a somewhat shakey breath. "you're just so hot and sexy and seeing you today made me crazy. I mean, youre just so out of my league, and I couldn't get you out of my head. You drive me crazy, y/n, everything about you. Your body, your voice...sorry, was that too far?"

"Sokka, I've wanted to fuck you since the day I met you." You laughed, resisting the string urge to roll your eyes at his pure ignorance. "We both know we've been dancing around our tension. I cant count the amount of times I went to bed all hot and bothered and dreamed about you."

"So...you find me fuckable, and you've had wet dreams about me?"

"Gods have mercy, Sokka, you're the most handsome man I've ever met, and you know it."

"Of course I do." His hands settled on his hips, a small, cocky grin on his lips. His brain was going again, but this time, on the autopilot you loved. When he was at his most confident.

"You're so fucking beautiful." Sokka turned to you, testing out the waters a bit, he placed his hand on your lower back, pulling you slightly closer to him.

"Sokka, if you don't kiss me right now-"

"Then what? What will you do?"

"I dunno... fuck you or something."

"Now I'm thinking otherwi-" you cut him off with your lips, pressing lightly on his soft ones, grasping at the back of his hair, anything to get him closer to you. His hand wandered down, grasping at your skin, pulling your hips towards his desperately.

"Wanna go into my tent?"

"I would be crazy if I said no."

[octania]

Obi Akitaru x Reader

This is a commission I did for the lovely @super-spooder​. I again thank you for your support in this way and permission to do it as a Obi x Reader fic.

Words: 7.1 k

Warnings: Smut, public sex, dirty talk

Short description: Obi and you are hiding your relationship for some time now, and although he is not happy with that, he respected your decision till the moment Captain Burns had the nerve to try not only to steal you as a doctor but as a potential partner.

________________________________________________________

Life is sometimes like a puzzle, such a simple structure, but if you don’t put the pieces right, it can get agonizing, hard, sucking the joy from this thing that should bring entertainment and happiness. If you are missing only one piece, it can shatter all of your previous work that was done thoroughly and made you proud and satisfied. One important piece can shadow all the puzzles that fit into their places before it. That is how (Y/N) felt when Obi was not in her reach, when she had everything else lined up and in perfect order, but she was missing the most important thing, the piece she knew would make the whole picture of her life perfect. Him.

She exhaled slowly with her eyes closed, lifting her arms up and pushing her heel back. Relaxed. That is how she felt in this moment. But not because she was doing yoga in the private gym of company 8, surrounded by nothing but the soothing sound of the birds chirping, accompanied with a rustling of leaves  coming through the half opened window, no, it was because her feelings for Obi were finally out, heard, acknowledged and most importantly, reciprocated.Well, in some way heard. They were still keeping it on the low, putting a veil of disguise for the other members. Sometimes, that tiresome acting was overwhelming, biting the pounding life muscle in her chest with the sharp teeth of need for him, but the sight of his eyes clouded with mopes was even heavier. He tried, despite their agreement, to get closer to her and risk giving her attention in front of the others. He did respect her wishes but his eager hands slipped under her arms, along her back, on her hip, on her waist, just for a moment, a simple touch when he was standing near her. Maybe she was too harsh, stepping back and giving him a warning gaze over the shoulder that spelled Too much, Obi. They will notice.

She could swear that his glare carried this answer- Let them. I don’t care.

But she did, at least she convinced herself in that. So when they were finally protected by the four walls of privacy in her or his apartment, she dodged the subject, tiptoed around it like it would burn her like raging fire if she comes too close to it. Guess that were the remaining bits of her past habit, running away from him, now, she was only running away from the fact that she lost that race. He caught her, and will not let her go. Like she wanted to be set free from those huge arms… She despised the morning light when they had to go in their separate ways.  Well, she was again the one that insisted on it. She would never admit it out loud, because then she will have to face Obi’s overly opened nature and shameless desire to celebrate their love. She could never win in that argument, she was doomed to fail, he did not share her anxious concern, he simply aspired to freedom so he could kiss her when he wanted, not when he was able. She shook her head, trying to get rid of the heavy thoughts.

In some moments she felt like she was playing the same game but with different rules this time. First it was to escape the king haunting you on that board of emotional chess, and now when you conquered the king, the whole kingdom awaits your confession, and you will tremble under their harsh judgment when you speak your sins. She hid the fact that that spear of guilt for breaking the ethical rules still pierced her soul, no matter that she received the most precious reward for her confession. She was not scared for herself, she would gladly be dragged in the dirt of shame for her choices if she had to, but only if Obi was left out of it. Her need to protect him was growing like wisteria on the garden wall, her flowers of love blooming over it to hide him from every wrong. Same goes for the other members of their fiery company. She sheltered them from the disappointment, like an umbrella, stopping the icy drops of rain to touch the ones underneath it.

She inhaled, letting the oxygen settle in her lungs, doing her exercise and counting to ten, now desperately wanting to wipe out all of the worries that kept popping in her head. Her hard concentration made her unaware that she was not alone in the gym anymore, there was another soul lingering around, watching her closely, dealing with its own temptation in silence.

Obi could barely resist (Y/N) on the regular days when she was wearing her baggy tunic and her white doctor’s coat, but seeing her stretching her body so gracefully in those tight yoga pants, making her ass look like a perfectly shaped peach that would fit right in his hands like it was made for him, and her thin waist bending down, making a pose that was almost inviting, luring him in. He could feel a stiff bulge forming inside his sweatpants.  Dear Sol I just got here, and I am already on the edge..

No matter how much he tried, he could not stop staring, silently stalking his lover, leaned against the door. He tilted his head, scanning the vacant hallway.  

Like it matters if it is empty or not, she set the rules…nothing happens in the company. 

His eyebrows narrowed and a frowning expression took over his usually soft features when he remembered her ultimatums. Obi adored every word that came out of her mouth, but once she began with her unnecessary dramatic concern, that was the only time he felt a need to just pick her up all over again, hammer her to the wall and cover her with his huge body, forcing her to finally realize that nothing matters except how the two of them feel. 

And he feels very hungry for her right now…

The sight of her on that wall was luckily more than just a fruit of imagination, it was a memory. A heated and lewd one, stored in the intimate corners of his mind, only for his personal usage. Even his opened nature would not dare to speak how the film stripes of that sweet event were already worn out from how many times he thought it over. His tender cheeks bloomed with color red, just reminding him how that was maybe two weeks ago, and from that moment on, nothing similar happened. They just went out in secrecy, having dinner and movie nights, so to speak. He was respectful, patient, not even a bit pushy. After all, he wanted to get to know her on a personal level, not only ravage her body. The thing that happened was a result of accumulation of emotions, a moment where their hearts and souls were bare, pulling towards each other like magnets, begging to be united. The recollection of that night made a wave of desire to wash over him, making his body tense and him to unconsciously clear his throat. Mistake.

The growling noise coming from his chest made him to be discovered by two eyes turning in a hurry. His eyes widened like he was just caught doing something bad, looking nervously around the room to dodge her penetrating gaze.

 “Captain Akitaru? What are you doing here?”- the sound of that formal word coming about of her mouth sting him right in the heart. More and more he was irritated by the fact they can’t talk freely, act like the lovers that they are. He did not even realize he was biting his lip from frustration.

 “Captain?”- there it is again, it sounded even worse without his actual name next to it.

 “There is no one here (Y/N), you can speak normally.” – his deep voice traveled through her ear canal right to her core, giving her goosebumps. No matter that they dated, the tension when they were alone still remained, and seeing him in his grey sweatpants and his black shirt with no sleeves, exposing those rounded deltoids, big biceps and long thick forearms made her heart race. The shirt was so tight on his huge torso, it showed his hard abs, making (Y/N) blink a few times, getting flustered in a second. Her insides craved him, still remembering his shape from the last time. She felt a moist feeling inside her panties, realizing how quickly her body reacted, squeezing her tights harder like she wants to cover her state.

“Still…we have to be careful. I don’t want to talk about it right now and here but I think they are starting to look at us funny, and I really don’t want to risk their disappointment.”- she voiced her concerns again like a broken  record, picking up her towel and a bottle of water, passing by the workout machines in a rush, straight to her office. She felt lucky she had a private bathroom in there, and was blessed even with a shower inside. Perks of working overtime, you get to be exhausted but clean. She giggled on her thought, getting a bit hopeful she will escape this situation with no damage. When she needed to bypass Obi, she arched her back, quickly sliding next to his big frame, using the benefit of being a small thing. But he was too big, so her breasts got caught by his forearm, as she brushed over it with them. It was just for a moment, but she could feel her already erected nipples from her arousal earlier, sending electric signals through her tummy, down her lower parts. She moaned, louder than she expected, continuing her escape with shaky hands. Now the fact written on the label that she once read before buying this sport bra, “So soft and airy it feels like you are not even wearing it.” made this a living hell. She didn’t turn to see if  Obi noticed something, she already disappeared into her office, rushing to the bathroom and slamming the door behind her, turning the shower on so the sound of rustling water clear her thoughts.  His bulge was now aching, painfully pulsating under the material of his sweatpants. He felt them, being reminded once more how those nipples tasted when he sucked them. Now, after two weeks of being without that sweet candy, and how she tried to escape, made him swear he will not let her drown in her own denial again. He thought this through in a hear beat. He could deal with her rules and wishes but he will be damned if he lets her to run away from him again.

The arousal mixed with painful yearning in his chest made him step forward, and before he knew it, his wide palm was wrapping itself on the doorknob of her bathroom, pushing it almost violently open, slipping into the mist of steam rising from the shower cabin. He saw her standing there, jumping from surprise, squeezing her naked breasts with her hands to cover them, still in her yoga pants. But before she could speak, he slammed the door behind them, locking them, and turning around to face her. His veiny forearms tensed as he grabbed her waist, picking her up with ease, crashing his plush lips on hers, swallowing her muffled questions. After losing the floor beneath her feet, she automatically tired to grab onto something from pure instinct. Her waving hand managed to hit the shower head, making it to fall down, splashing the water around, raining down on them from the water pumping in the air. Obi did not even flinch when the warm water hit his skin, he was too busy sucking on (Y/N)’s lower lip, nibbling the rosy flesh like his favorite chocolate bar, then pushing his tongue inside her mouth to met hers, tasting the whole package. Her tongue returned the sugary motions almost voraciously, giving into her primal needs once again. Not so primal, but awoken by him, something about Obi unleashed desire in a form she did not experience before. He could feel her body giving in, melting under his grip and screaming to be dominated by his powerful being. His husky voice filled her ears, as he explained in one sentence why he is breaking her rules. 

“We said, no more running.” – but the explanation was not enough, a punishment was in order. He will not risk her getting away again, his heart could not bear it, so if she tries, he wants her to remember just what might happened. His eyes colored like dark mead flickered, stepping inside the half flooded floor of the cabin, shutting the glass door to prevent any more water spilling out. Now the shower released its waves only on them, soaking them to the core. But Obi did not mind it, not wasting any time, shucking down her yoga pants from her legs in one harsh motion. When the barrier of her closed was removed, his prominent biceps tensed as he lifted her up along the tiles, until she was high enough so her cunt was right in front of his face. He pushed her legs on his shoulders, preventing her from closing them, and dragged her closer to his mouth. He stared at her bare pussy that was glistering from her own juices. Obi subconsciously licked his lips from the tasty sight ahead, sliding her closer until her soft folds were finally pressed on his lips. He opened his mouth, taking a long, experimental lick along her slit, almost grunting from the familiar taste in his mouth. His tongue repeated the act, showing the satisfaction like he is licking his favorite ice cream.

 “Also..we need to teach you how to use my name, without that formal bullshit.”- he slid his calloused hand under and to her heated hole, large fingers parted the folds, pulling the hood of your clit taut to reveal the nerve bud underneath. 

“O-obi!”- Hana stuttered from the exposing feeling of her sensitive parts, sensing the steamy air flowing around it, combined with Obi’s hot breaths. 

“That’s it…say it again.”- with the tip of his tongue he mercilessly flipped the nerve bundle, making (Y/N) to scream his name from the depths of her lungs. But he will not be satisfied after only hearing it once, so he continued to flick her clit while he shoved three fingers inside her, pumping them in until the last knuckle was sucked by her inner walls. She grabbed his wet hair, pulling his head closer.

“Obi!”- she screamed, her voice echoing the glass shower cabin, barely keeping the sound in. But she could not care less, she felt dizzy, tingling feeling spreading across her face as she barely kept her eyes half open. Pleasure consumed her, making her eyelids heavy. So distracted, she did not even notice that Obi lowered her down, placing her on her knees. She opened her eyes from the unsatisfying feeling of emptiness between her legs, gazing upon something big…and hard. Obi slowly pumped his shaft in front of her. Blushing, he stared down at (Y/N)’s glassy eyes, leaning with one hand on the tiles. His broad torso hovering above her, mighty and powerful. He gently wrenched (Y/N)’s head, meeting her plush lips with his purplish head. She could already taste a thick drip of precum sliding down her lower lip to her mouth. It was bitter, but the sight of his shy face and him slowly jerking it in front of her, pushing it gently inside her small mouth made her crave it all. The size, the taste, the cum…

 She parted her lips, in that way showing her permission. Obi’s girth filled (Y/N)’s mouth, stuffing her throat with his size in seconds. She relaxed her muscles, trying to fit it in but she could barely breathe around his heavy meat. Obi slowly pulled out a bit, giving her a chance to inhale, then started rocking his hips gently, lost in the sight of fucking her mouth. (Y/N) grabbed his legs, trying to keep her balance while he was stuffing his dick down her throat, gripping her hair gently. His brown eyes locked on hers, when he whispered something in a low, shy voice.

“Touch yourself from me.” – her already red cheeks fired up, she swallowed, well tried, just putting more pressure around his length, making him growl in euphoria. She never done this before, but the enchanting hunger in his eyes was tempting her, provoking her, igniting the flame of her erotic being and forcing her to indulge in this dirty play. She sensually started to glide with her hand around her curves, teasing her own breasts while swallowing a few more inches of Obi’s throbbing cock. His half closed eyes watching her like tiger watches its prey. Calmly, trying to suppress the clawing need to ravage her, just collecting all that building ecstasy inside, waiting for the right moment to set it loose.  And when her small hand slipped between her legs, her thin fingers sinking into her pussy, the vibration of her moans stimulated his length, forcing him to slam his hips a bit harder, faster. She gazed upon his tightened abs, his every muscle visible from his movements even under his wet t-shit, his pleasure vocalized by his quickened gasping.

He was drunk with enjoyment. (Y/N) was spreading her legs more, almost sitting in the water that was pooling on the floor, giving him a chance to watch her fingering herself clearly. His gaze glued on her delicate fingers tenderly pushing inside and her palm stimulating her erect clit. (Y/N) could sense his dick starting to pulsate and twitch in her throat, she could taste the accumulating precum dripping from his swollen tip. She gripped his dick on the edge of his base, starting to jerk it in the same time as she sucked it.

“Oh fuck.(Y/N)…”- he tilted his head, but lowered it back down quickly enough, refusing to miss any moment of her pleasuring them both. Her grip became harder, her tongue danced around his veiny girth until a warm feeling started overcoming the insides of her mouth. Obi’s sperm dribbled down (Y/N)’s esophagus in hot spurts. His grumps echoed the narrow space and his jaw tightened while he unleashed his load, pulling out slightly. His cock pulsated against her lips, squirting the last sticky stirrings on the surface of her salivary muscle. She gulped for air heavily, but still letting the thick liquid drip down her throat. It took her a few swallows to get it all down, shyly gazing up to the man of her dreams. He reached down, spooning her up under her legs and arms like a princess, lifting her and pressing her on his chest. His warm lips rest on her forehead, staying there for a few moments. Just when he was about to speak up, his attention was broken by an unpleasant sound of a siren whistling. They looked at each other with a panicky look, rushing out of the shower, knowing exactly what the sound means. There is an Infernal on the loose.             

                             *                 *                   *

Sooty columns of charcoal grey blot out the sky. The smell of burned wood and ash filled the air, making it almost impossible to breath. The people were running in panic, trying to escape the sinister figure slowly dragging its heavy feet along the concrete, leaving the grimy trails behind it. Flames were licking its already burned body, leaving a terrifying inhuman grin on its face.

 (Y/N) could not shake the lurid feeling after seeing it, almost refusing to let Obi to face the creature while she was on the other side the neighborhood mending the wounded. She could barely concentrate, never before feeling this distracted from her work, even though it did not show on the outside, she was petrified by the thought of something happening to him.

Still, her gifted hands moved fast, patching up the nasty burns or wounds of the suffering victims, even curing their souls along with their flesh with the words of encouragement. Her stand was radiating self-confidence, fearlessness, and above all, leadership. The medic team from other companies followed her every instruction, she issued orders that only resulted in success, and her astonishing results did not go unnoticed.

From the corner of the tent, a electric blue eye spied on the company’s 8 doctor, silently absorbing her progress and accomplishments. This was not their first encounter, he have witnessed her skilled hands before, doing the magic no one else could. That funny part was that she had no magic, no special power, just her sharp mind, dedication and predominant talent. Burn’s own well respected doctors from company 1 had behaved submissively around her, and that intrigued him the most. Those highly educated and experienced people bowed to no one except him, and now, he is witnessing first hand that they decided to bow down once more, and it was not to a mighty and intimidating captain this time, it was a fragile, thin woman, with soft features and melodic voice.

He wanted this asset for a long time, before he actually laid his eyes upon her, when he only read the reports of her successful treatments, and shamelessly sent her a couple  of offers for a position in his prestige company, but she turned him down every time, politely stating that her position is company 8 was far more valuable. He also received a letter from Captain Akitaru, where it was unmistakably visible even from the dry ink on the paper how upset he was because of Burns’s constant offers, asking him to stop his proposals at once. Even though it was written in a professional manner, Burns grinned when he saw how the pen was pressed on the paper with force, giving away Obi’s anger. How the words did not match captain Akitaru’s usual relaxed and welcoming nature, these sentences were strong, fierce, but still composed nicely. This did nothing more for Leonard Burns but to make him laugh or entertained for a brief moment, certainly will not make him stop.

Even if he lost interest then, based only by the results, waiting for someone to overshadow her, that possibility fell down the drain when he gazed upon her the first time. It was not only the looks that tempted the mountainous captain, he was after all, an experienced man, having more than a fair share of women’s beauty. This was something different. Her  body radiated with more dominance and fearlessness than any other woman he encountered before. Her stand was strong but still graceful. She was not only brave, she was compassionate. She was risky for sure, he saw that with his own eyes, when she risked her own safety and ran to save a cat that belonged to one of the victims.

 Watching in admiration as a non-fiery woman ran into the raging fire within the house, pushing away the fire fighters that gave up on the almost collapsed structure, rushing in just to mend not only the poor boys broken bones but his mind and soul when she brought back his pet. That was not even the end. The way she confronted her own captain, when he almost lost his wits seeing her being so careless. She did not argue, apologize, she stated the facts about the house. How the main parts of the structure were still durable and having , and he remember her exact words, 3 more minutes of strength in them before collapsing because of the material from which they were made and how they were placed inside the house, and he remembers it clearly as day because in exactly 3 minutes the house collapsed.

 He was so impressed by her, in the second he notice she was alone he approached her, now not only tempted by her as a potential valuable asset of his company, but as a potential partner. He was more than displeased when she turned him down, in both ways, focusing on her work and almost pretending that he was ghost. Although this kind of result was not what he has expected and was not happy about it, it kind of made him even more interested, taking this as a challenge. And Leonard Burns is not the type of man who backs down. He waited long enough, patiently forging his plans and moves, and now was the time to strike. His interest grew in desire, and he was not a type of man who deprives himself from something he craves. His steps slowly led him to his target, approaching the busy woman from her back. (Y/N) was just finishing up the last of the stitches on the old lady who kept blessing her soul and admiring (Y/N)’s kindness. Cunningly like a fox, he sneaked in silence, but his stand still exuded with power, coming so close to her that when she turned, she bumped her head right into his stony chest. (Y/N) was astound, caught by surprise so much she froze.

Looking up, she followed the trail of his prominent torso to his revealed collarbones, to his strong thick neck and finally his face. The sky-crystal iris returned her gaze, while the other one was covered with his eye-patch, a dark lather thing that only made his sharp features look more intimidating. Only one corner of his lip was slightly curled into half a smile. He looked like a hunter who just saw his prey stepping into a trap, and trapped the little (Y/N) was, stuck between the wall of his flesh and the operating table behind her. She got flustered, but not in a positive and dreamy way, this was something strange, intense, caused by his impious stare.

  “Captain Burns. Would you mind stepping back? You are invading my personal space.”- her voice clear and loud, even she was surprised by the energy it carried. Maybe she was a kind and shy person but she was no push over. Only one man managed to shake her composure but it was certainly not this one. Burns opened his mouth slightly with a smile, showing that pearl white teeth under his lips. He moved, but not far enough. He was still nearly touching her with his body, and his sudden leaning in did not help.

“I apologize, (Y/N).”- he was so close to her face she could feel his hot breath on her cheeks, the smell of the minty gum he probably had earlier. She ducked, pretending to be reaching for a gauze from her medical kit just next to her left leg, to dodge the unpleasant closeness. She took it out, wiggling out of his flesh barricade and putting the gauze around the old woman’s arm, completely ignoring the captain, wishing he would leave as he did the last time she pulled this act.

“There you go. All finished. You will be ok, just try not to move the arm too much.” – she gently held the woman’s shoulder, helping her to get up.

“You are an angel doctor, may the dear Sol watch over you.”- old woman responded in a low hoarse voice slowly walking away.

“She is right. Blessed with such gift of healing and also…beauty, just like an angel.”- Burn’s deep voice was once more in (Y/N)’s ear, and she could feel it again too close. She turned, seeing him sitting on the table, arms crossed on his chest as he shamelessly wondered with his icy stare around her body. Her blood was slowly started to boil. The feeling that he gave her was unsettling. 

“That is not very appropriate Captain, I would appreciate if you would be a bit more professional.”- she snapped at him, clearly offended by him stepping out of line, but this reaction only made this game more fun for the silver fox Burns. He did not see this as an objection or refusal, he saw it as a dangerous game that radiated with erotic feeling. Her feisty stand made him almost aroused, since it was so long when a woman tried to act untouchable to him. But that is all it was, an act. Must be. In one moment he even decided to let go of the idea of her being his company’s doctor and maybe have her as a lover, but what would be more intense than a relationship inside the work space? That is something he really did not have in a while.

 “I am having problems breathing, and I was hoping an expert like you could take a look. “- without even waiting for her response, he started to unbutton his shirt, exposing her muscular chest. (Y/N) swallowed, hard, fretting feeling blooming in her body. She wanted to move but her obligations prevented her. She can’t refuse to help a man in need, no matter how uneasy he makes her. After all, his flattering words will get him nowhere, but her refusal might just cost her nothing less than her reputation. Her eyebrows narrowed, as she picked up her stethoscope, pushing his shirt to the side and started to listen to his breathing.

“Inhale.”- she ordered, carefully listening to the sound of his lungs filling with air. He obeyed.

 “Keep breathing slowly.”- she said, moving the stethoscope under his ribs, following a wheezing sound. She leaned, lowering her head. His breathing became shallow, somehow…strange. The weird sound was gone, and was replaced with something different…something, perverse. Burns was quietly growling, making a sound that resembled the one you hear from a man when he is 8 inches deep inside of you and pumping you with his heat. The sound followed with a feeling, when she felt the waves of air flowing down her neck, warming her skin and teasing the sensitive sports. His husky voice barely overcoming her racing heart savagely  pounding in her ears.

“Maybe if you become my company’s main doctor, you can check me regularly and I will not have to ambush you like this…(Y/N).”- his white hair falling on her neck, along her cheek, when he leaned closer. She froze, mouth dry, as her heart was now slamming in her ribcage so hard it was painful. He was too close, she could feel where his mouth was, if she turns he will…

“Burns! How low can one company’s captain sink to take a place as a patient for his personal routine check-ups, when actual victims are around him?”- A voice that usually sounded like a beautiful song, now was rough, sharp, cold, and above all, furious. So much so, that even the silver fox got surprised, lifting his head and body and giving (Y/N) the opportunity to get back up. She used it, stepping back and turning, only to see Obi standing just a few meters behind them, clenching his fists so tightly that his fingers turned white. His jaw was pulsating, strong chest rising and falling like he just ran a marathon.

“Or even worse, trying to steal my doctor again while my team and I are out there covering for your absence? We almost lost the east side of the town, a side that was supposed to be operated by you.”- he got closer, fire in his eyes more wild than on that Infernal she saw.  Not even a bullet can shot thorough you as Obi’s stare was piercing through Burns, whose face was now dark, shadows flowing across it, making it somehow devious.

 “I have my company members to handle that.”- he answered with a roar, landing on his feet and facing Obi. Even though he was taller and wider than captain Akitaru, Obi did not even flinch, actually, he looked like a young and powerful wolf ready to beat down the worn out alfa, taking what is rightfully his.

“And so do I, and (Y/N) is one of them, and will remain so.”- one more step was made by Obi, now staring Burns down, breaking the ice in his eyes by his raging mead colored ones. His body radiated with raw force, ready to demolish anything and anyone that stand in his way. And this time, even someone like Leonard Burns noticed it and decided not to cross the boundaries any more at this time. He lowered his eyebrows, closing his eyes and fixing the buttons on his shirt.

 “ We shall see Akitaru, you are not her husband, you are just her captain.” – he said uncouthly, leaving slowly. After a few steps, his clear blue eye appeared over his shoulder, as he winked at (Y/N). She pressed her lips in a straight line, turning away, unable to believe how vulgar can he be. But her tornado of thoughts was interrupted by Obi’s harsh voice.

 “Meet me in the emergency vehicle, I need to speak to you. Now.”- he disappeared behind the tent.      

       *                                    *                                      * 

Obi set in the empty ambulance in the back space where they kept the patients. No matter how hard he tried, he could not calm down or stop hearing the God forsaken words that Burns used.  

Just her captain…

“Tsk..”- He gripped his orange firefighting uniform on his forearms, barely overcoming the need to hit something hard. It was no wonder he said that, no one knew about what kind of relationship (Y/N) and he really had. And if they knew and still did not care and something like this happened, at least he could stand up to Burns like her boyfriend, not only captain. The thought of another man trying to seduce (Y/N) tormented him, smashing on his heart like stones. It did not help when the main reason of his worries stepped inside the van, slamming the door behind her and furiously turning to face him.

“Why did you do that? I was handling it fine Obi! You can’t go head on like that!”- her  irises darker, tears pooling in the corners of her eyes from frustration. She did not want to yell at him, but she needed him to know that she can handle herself just fine. Only problem with that was, that she managed to forget that Obi was not only feeling the need to have her under his wing like a hawk, protecting his members like a real captain, no, he was protecting her like a king protects his queen, and when that queen forgets about the crown on her head and the fact he would die for her sake if needed, the king loses it. Obi jumped on his feet, trying his best to lower his voice but it still came out more than loud. 

“He is trying to get you to transfer from day one!  He ignored my warnings, ignored your refusals, and I will be damned if I see him trying his tricks in person!”- he was barely suppressing the painful avalanche of shattered pieces of his heart, not wanting to bring that subject now, but (Y/N)’s response made it impossible.

 “And? Did I stay? I did! I can take care of other captains trying to get to be their doctor, I know I have obligations to our company and…”

“He was hitting on you (Y/N)! He did not care about your abilities, he was trying to get involved with you! Obligations?? How about your obligation to me as a girlfriend? Honesty, for example? Being honest of who you are dating, not making me act like only your damn superior! Making me tolerate the filthy moves of other men on you, right in front of my eyes, and even then I respected your wishes and now you are trying to get me to stay quiet and watch from a far how he is breathing down your neck?! “- Obi was yelling so hard he can feel the burn blooming in his throat. His fist slammed the metal of the van. (Y/N) stood in silence with her mouth opened, realizing what she had done. She hurt him, not intentionally but still did. Her rules made him suffer, and he still obliged because he loved her, but seeing someone else trying to harm her in any way, even by stepping over the limits of her personal space is something he can’t allow.

 “I can’t  (Y/N), I won’t just stand by. I am not a crazy jealous man, I know you are an honest woman and would never betray me, but I will protect your honor, I’ll be damned otherwise. You deserve the respect, you are a great doctor, and this…this was wrong. And yes, I will bite my tongue for your sake, but I can’t lo…”- Obi’s shaky voice was silenced by (Y/N)’s lips catching his when she jumped on him, grabbing onto him like he was the only thing she ever wanted. Tears strolled down her cheeks while she kissed him with raw passion, touched so deeply by the words that he spoke. She knew he was a good man, but she never imagined how deep that goodness went. He didn’t even lack wings, he really was one of Sol’s angels, and she was sure of it, and he was hers. And that was the only thing he wanted, to be hers.

 He wrapped his long strong arms around her, hugging her so tightly that he almost broke her, but then he released the grip a bit, trying to contain his euphoric longing. Their mouths crashed on one another like raindrops crash on the dry ground, feeding it, nurturing it, just how they did their hearts in that moment. Her closeness once more awoke his erotic desire. Something about her drive him mad in every way, emotionally, sexually and physically, forcing him to hammer her down on the medical bed placed in the corner of the van. He pushed her down, towering over her, kissing her neck and sinking into her cleavage while he violently started unzipping his pants. (Y/N)’s flustered face was half covered with her palm, as she tried to suppress her lewd moans on his hungry kisses and gliding of his hands all over her slim body. He cupped her ass with his palm, turning her over on her tummy, climbing on top of her. His hand slid across her spine, along the back of her neck and into her hair, gripping her gently and pulling her head back so his lips can once again find hers. Her muffled moans were eaten by him sucking on her tongue gently while pulling her black jeans down along with her purple lace panties.

 “I want you (Y/N)..I want to make you mine over and over again.”- he gasped in her mouth as the sound of his voice was combined with the sound of his pants being pulled down. A familiar feeling of his throbbing heat spread across her soaked pussy lips as he parted her ass cheeks, trying to gain access to the main thing. He teased himself a bit by rubbing his erected cock along her slit, trying to collect as much of her juices as possible before he lifted his hips and then slammed into her, kicking the air from (Y/N)’s chest. His adrenaline from earlier still rushing violently in his veins, making him to drill inside her without suppressing his strength or speed, feeling the van with the wet sound of his base smashing onto her cunt, and his groin on her ass cheeks.

 “Fuck….you pussy is so tight…and…it is mine..just mine.”- he smashed harder, lifting himself upwards and swinging back down in a rush, making the bed squeal under them. (Y/N) could not hold in her loud screams, as she grabbed the pillow with the rough green fabric, placing it under her chin and burying her face in, screaming her lungs out while he fucked her like a beast. He started biting her shoulders, licking his way to the back of her neck to leave more reddish marks there, making sure that with every bite another almost unbearable hit of his hips accompanies it, making his sweet (Y/N) voice her pleasure loud enough even with that pillow stuffed half way in her mouth. His slams became faster, as he slid his hand under her shirt, starting to knead her breasts, pinching the soft flesh, searching for her hardened nipples to lightly twist them while he picks up the pace, feeling his sperm pumping down his dick.

 “I want to mark you even from inside (Y/N)….I will cum in you baby.”- this was not a question, this was a statement. As he shifted her nipples along his rough fingers, slamming in her more violently than before, getting all of his frustration out with that last few hits and the thick hot sperm that squirted out of his swollen tip in her womb.  He slowly turned her, picking her up with one hand and changed their places, placing her on his chest while he was lying on the bed.  He gasped heavily, gently removing the strands of her hair from her face. (Y/N) also tried to catch her breath, but she certainly could not catch a break when Obi spoke.

 “I want us to come clean. I want people to know that you are mine. “- he lifted her chin up to make her look at him in the eye. His gaze again loving, caring, soft, the same one she adores. She could not help but to smile, slightly nodding. When he saw her approval he smiled ear to ear, kissing the tip of her nose and getting her closer on his chest.

 “Promise? Because if you don’t do it, I will propose to you in front of everyone and you will not have a choice.”- (Y/N)’s heart skipped a beat on that words, making her lift herself up on his chest, mouth shaped in a wide circle, stuttering.

 “W-wha…I-I-..I promise! No! Please! We can tell everyone! Today!”- her face red as a paprika, looking nervously around, playing with the material of his uniform. He took her hands in his, lifting himself and placing his forehead on hers.

 “Hay..I was joking..relax.”- he kissed her cheek, but something inside him made him think that this was actually not a joke. Being surprised by his own brain, his cheeks fired up, smiling shyly to (Y/N)who just swallowed a whole lot accumulated saliva in her mouth. Still not being able to say nothing, but to place a promising kiss on his loving eyes, trying to silence the embarrassing thought in her mind.

 I wish that is was not a joke.

[kiatkiat-tree]

Onset (2)

A/N: ITS THE PART 2 TO THIS. i didnt mean it to be so fluffy though, forgive me ;-;

-

Within just a few hours of being told you were an omega, it started to make sense why your Servants were acting the way they were. Even Emiya seemed affected. The poor Archer was probably trying his best to cook dinner for you at his insistence. He maintained his stoic facade, but you could see right through it.

“Emiya, it's fine. Thank you for the offer, but I can cook for myself,” you said, as if you were any better. Dr. Roman hadn't told anyone about this, but you realized how obvious you must've been to the others. Aside from the embarrassment you felt, arousal also pooled between your legs. It was taking everything to not pounce on him..

He didn't have the chance to reply, though, as the door to the kitchen swung open. Gilgamesh, in all his golden glory, had stepped in. His red eyes zeroed in on you, scrunching his nose. With only a day or two before your heat, you had attracted even more people than you thought. Thankfully, Emiya moved between you and the other Archer.

Gilgamesh scowled, obviously displeased. “Step aside, Faker, and allow me to claim what is rightfully mine. This fool's scent has been an affliction to myself. I will take care of it, as pervasive as it is, and mark her as my own,” he said. Gold swirls formed a portal, letting the Archer take a sword from it. “Now, if you choose to disobey me, I shall cut you down where you stand. Move.”

“You are wrong to think I will bow down to the likes of you,” Emiya said. He hadn't drawn his weapon yet, but neither of them wanted to back down yet. Their scents reeked of power and dominance. You rubbed your thighs together, mentally berating yourself for feeling so excited by this. Normally, you would have stopped it already.

As much as you liked the feeling of being fought over, you had to remain rational. It would be an even bigger problem if a fight broke out here. You poked Emiya's side, hoping he'd feel it through his firm muscle that you wanted on top of you—

You shook your head. “S-stop it, you two. I'm heading back to my room,” you said, walking past both of them. Gilgamesh scoffed, reaching out to grab your arm, but Emiya was faster. Both of your Archers scowled at each other, and you thought this would've been the end for them.

Hunger and anxiety gnawed at your stomach as you bolted to your room. A few Servants tried to wave at you, but you couldn't really stop now. It would've been another showdown between them if you paused to chat with them, and that in itself was a major inconvenience.

You were so eager to lock yourself in your room and stay there until the suppressants kicked in that you almost didn't notice the poor doctor standing right outside your room, holding a paper bag. It was his scent that made you falter in your steps, slowing down just to talk to him. He looked like he was waiting, too.

“Ah! Hello, (Y/N),” Dr. Roman greeted, extending the paper bag to you. “I thought you would be in your room, since um... anyway, I got a little concerned since the kitchen was full of alphas a while ago. That would be a little scary for you, so I heated some food with the microwave in my office.”

Words couldn't even describe how thankful you were for a beta like Dr. Roman. While Mash was good company, only the doctor knew about your heat. That was probably the case until Gilgamesh just had to make a scene, anyway. You sighed, taking the still-warm food from his hands.

“Thanks, I was getting hungry anyway....” you replied, opening the door to be wide enough for the two of you. You smiled at him, gesturing him to go inside. “How about the two of us eat together? I'm starting to miss any sense of normalcy.”

The doctor appreciated your offer, he really did. Roman was just scared that something they'd regret might happen in a closed room with him. Your scent (which was slightly tinged with arousal, God help him) was already getting to him, too. Still, the past days must've been hard on you, so he allowed himself to indulge you just this once.

He returned your smile, hoping he didn't look as nervous and horny as he felt. Your room was refreshing, and maybe a bit bare, but that really didn't deter him. What stood out to him was your overwhelming scent scattered all over the place. That, and the sound of the lock turning behind him.

“Sorry, I didn't want another Servant barging in like a while ago,” you said, taking note of how his body tensed up. Dr. Roman relaxed, though, taking a seat on one of the chairs. A few months ago, you invited Mash to have dinner with you in your room, then Mata Hari, or maybe even Bedivere. Since then, you've had a small table and two chairs for them.

It was incredible to see how much trust you've put in him, Roman noted. Now that he didn't have his lab coat on, though, he wouldn't be able to hide any erections in the foreseeable future. The doctor briefly wondered if you would still be able to trust him if you knew what happened right after you left his office.

Maybe he could take you right there. On a proper bed, one that was yours. Maybe if he spilled on your bed, you'd be able to start to smell him and realize just how much you've been tormenting him all along. If he was lucky enough, he'd be able to finish inside you and mark you as his own. Fuck you all day and night—

“Doctor? Are you alright?” you asked. Your sweet, lilting voice combined with the increasing smell of your slick was making his head turn. You couldn't detect anything other than his odd behaviour, but Roman knew you were getting turned on by him. This was giving him a surge of confidence, however misplaced it was.

He couldn't stand it. He sighed, closing his eyes before flashing you a brief, apologetic smile. “Mhm, just lost my appetite. Don't worry! It's not you, I just remembered I had some work to do...” he said. Standing up, he was careful not to let his growing bulge known to you. There wasn't anything else to cover him. He had to get out of there, fast.

Leaving the room should've been easy enough if it wasn't for you going after him. You stood up as well, grabbing his arm. You weren't sure why you did it, but the feeling of his skin against yours was so nice. You sighed, unconsciously leaning towards him. Normally, this would make you ashamed, but you couldn't care less now.

“Ah, doctor, you feel so warm...” you murmured. Heat filled your body as you moved closer, rubbing against him like a cat in heat. Roman stiffened against you. It felt pleasant as you moved your body against him, and he almost gave in to the temptation when he placed a firm hand on your shoulder.

“(Y/N), you shouldn't be doing this,” he said, making sure you were at a distance from him. Your desire for him was thinly-veiled, but he knew it was because of your heat. Thankfully, the cloudiness in your eyes slightly let up. Roman needed you to listen to him because he didn't even know what would happen if he didn't stop. “Please, eat and use the suppressants—“

“No, I don't want that,” you cut him off. You pulled his body against yours in a hug, taking in his scent and... realizing he was hard. Hesitantly, you grinded against him, trying to look for a reaction. The doctor bucked against you in a knee-jerk reaction. “You don't want that, right, doctor? No, Roman. Don't you want me?”

Of course I want you! I've wanted you ever since... Roman's thoughts trailed off, letting himself moan as he felt you palm him against his jeans. This was too sinful, too wrong, and yet it felt so good. He unconsciously moved against her, wanting more of the friction between his clothed cock and her hand.

“I-I do, (Y/N), but...” he stuttered. His jeans were slowly being unzipped by you, allowing you access to his thinner underwear. The doctor closed his eyes in bliss as you stroked his cock through the thin fabric. He didn't know how he found it in himself to stop you, but he did, grasping your wrist in a pause. “You're not in the right mind. A-and whatever might happen, I don't know if I could control. We could talk it out before your next heat.”

With your wrist restrained, you resorted to placing a kiss on his lips. “Trust me. I've liked you for a long time, Roman, but this just gave me courage. I was thankful you weren't affected, but it seems like I was wrong,” you mumbled against him. “This is better. Won't you take me?”

Roman breathed in, capturing your lips in another kiss. He moved your arm away, edging you to your bed. Your lips separated before you settled on the mattress, caged right between his arms. A moment passed before he rested his forehead against yours.

“Please, tell me to stop.”

“I won't,” you say, softly, before kissing him and pulling him onto the bed. Shoes were kicked off impatiently before he crawled on top of you. You could feel his hand making its way under your blouse. His hand was cool against your feverish skin, providing you little relief as he explored your body.

He lightly tapped your stomach teasingly, eliciting a soft whine of his name from you. Roman nipped your neck before looking up at you. His eyes were darkened and hazy with lust, and it was a miracle he was even going slow. At this point, he thought he would have had ripped your blouse off.

“You feel soft,” he absentmindedly commented, latching onto your lips and sucking on them. As he played with your mouth, he slipped through the extra fabric of your bra. Two of his fingers caught your nipple between them, making you cry out as he rolled it until it stiffened.

“R-Romani...” you gasped. The doctor grinded against your core, earning another moan from you. Your hands went to his arm, where your blouse had ridden up to your chest. “Wait, let me take it off...”

“Oh,” was all he could reply. The tips of his ears went red as he removed his arm, fumbling with the buttons of your blouse and the strap of your bra. He flung them to wherever as you let out a breathy laugh. Even in the dim lighting of your room, you looked so beautiful. Scars littered the expanse of your torso and arms, but you had never looked so ethereal before.

“Now isn't the time to be embarrassed, Romani,” you teased. Roman felt what little of the self-control he had crack. He took his shirt off to let it join your own before hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You were about to coo at him again before you felt him suck on the skin of your neck. Red tinged your cheeks as he laughed.

“Hah, I feel you getting a bit too warm here. You're embarrassed too, right?” he said, lapping at the patch lazily before moving downward. Your skin was slick with sweat and saliva, mostly coming from his open-mouthed kisses as he paused between your breasts. The familiar pressure was back again, and you were left with a new hickey on your chest.

Roman was back to playing with your nipple with one hand, while his mouth was occupied with the other peak. One hand was moving across your waist and stomach as well, light on your skin. You carded through his hair, sighing in pleasure as he continued to lave your nipple with his tongue.

His hand moved closer to your skirt, letting you wriggle out of it until you were only left in your panties. With your skirt gone, your scent's intensity has increased tenfold. Roman groaned, resting his head against your chest. The lack of action made you whine, squirming as his hair started to stick to your skin.

“What's wrong?” you asked. Asking him calmly was a feat, honestly, especially when your cunt was almost exposed and you felt like your body was on fire. Roman hummed, the skin on your chest vibrating as he did it. He stroked the outline of your slit through your panties as he sucked another hickey on you.

“Do you know how good you smell?” he mumbled, his words slightly muffled. He shifted around so he was at eye-level with you again, but his fingers never left your panties. The thin cloth covering your pussy was deftly moved aside, letting him slip in one finger inside of you. Your confused expression morphed into one of pleasure as your pussy was finally granted some attention.

Roman smiled at your widened eyes and dilated pupils, never removing his finger from your cunt as his thumb brushed against your puffy areola. “Even now,” he started, placing a small kiss on your cheek. “When your face looks like that... (Y/N), do you even realize how pretty you are?”

You blushed. Compliments like that weren't really common during finger-fucking, and especially when you weren't in heat. Media made you thought that heats and ruts were fast and mind-breaking, but Roman hadn't been anything but sweet and considerate. And maybe a bit of a tease.

You were going to come up with either a snarky remark or a compliment of your own until you felt him add another finger. A whine slipped past your lips as the doctor moved them in a scissoring motion. Some of the slick dribbled past your cunt and onto your mattress. Both of you were too into this to even care.

Another whimper was forced out your throat as he curled his fingers into you, hitting a spot you never knew felt good. You moaned, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him into another kiss. He paid special attention to that spot, stroking it gently before putting pressure on it. Your body tensed, and you arched your back before you could even notice.

“Nngh, I'm sensitive!” you pleaded as he continued to move his fingers through your orgasm. Your pussy throbbed as he removed his fingers. Roman brought his slick fingers to his mouth, making sure you watched as he sucked on them. A smile broke out on his face as he tasted your cum.

“You taste just as good,” he reminds you, but there's no teasing tone in his voice. It's sort of predatory, and you felt like his prey that moment. There was still a small, thin thread that was holding his sanity together, but Roman felt as if it was going to snap any moment now. He lowered his mouth to yours, letting you taste yourself on him.

“It tastes... weird,” you note, but he's not laughing with you. Instead, you watch as he has a mental battle with himself. On whether or not he should stop before they reach the point of no return. You reach out to him, softly stroking his hair. Your belly is filled with fire and your groin aches, but you still. “Are we still going?”

“I don't think I can stop, even if you tell me to,” Roman answers, cradling your cheek with one hand. You give him a chaste kiss (as chaste as you could when you're naked and he's got half his clothes on) and smile at him. “I really don't want to hurt you. Or do anything we'll regret.”

“I don't think you will,” came your reassurance. You moved to his jeans, which you belatedly realized were still on. As the blood pounded in your ears in your heat-addled state, you traced the outline of his leaking erection. You didn't go any further, though, as you waited for his reply. “Thanks for staying with me.”

Roman hums in acknowledgement as he observes you. Red and puffy lips, and hazy, clouded eyes. Your body was warm, almost feverish, and you weren't really relieved of the warmth plaguing you yet. Still, here you were, telling him that you wanted him as your partner for this heat. His hand moved to where yours stay.

“Of course,” his eyes softened. He still had that lust-filled look from before, but it's better now. He gets out of his pants, taking his underwear with it, before lining up his cock along with your entrance. He held your hand in his, intertwined together. “I can eat you up any moment during your heat, but I want to be inside you now.”

You made a noise that was agreement or something, but you definitely became louder as soon as you felt him stretch your walls with his cock. Slick was dripping out of you, making his movements easier as he waited for you to settle. Your walls clench around him, and you whimper at the feeling of being so full.

“A-ah, Romani!” you cried out. You wanted him to move so badly, why wasn't he moving? Your muscles tensed as you tried to squirm, but your partner warned you with a low growl. It was a warning to stay put.

“Y-you're so tight, ngh,” he said. Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead and along its creases. He was still getting used to the feeling of your warm walls around him, and he knew that he could never go back to his hand after this. You tried to move again, but this time, he snapped his hips against you.

A squeak falls from your mouth as pleasure fills your body. God, Roman felt so good. The movements he was making was your only relief for the past few days. Your knew your fingers were inadequate for the arousal you were feeling, but you never knew by how much. He thrust inside you again, making you moan and cry out in bliss.

You wrapped your arms around him, loosely hanging off his neck as he pounded into you. Your partner's pace slowly quickened, making you whine with each thrust he made. You barely registered his hand moving to where you clit was until you felt pressure on it. Mewling his name, you arched your back from the bed.

“Ah—Romani!” you cried out. He responded with a breathless sigh of your name, making fast and small circles around your clit. The familiar coil wrapping itself tighter in your belly was back. “Mm, I'm so close—oh God, please...”

“Come for me, (Y/N),” he called out to you. His thrusts were out of rhythm with the circles he was making, but it was still enough to make you snap. You moaned, writhing under him as he continued to move in and out of you. You were so sensitive, but he was still going on without a care in the world.

Your pussy throbbed around his cock, twitching ever so slightly every time he hit your g-spot. He groaned as he felt your walls clamp tight around him, sending pleasurable jolts through his body as he continued. He rested his head on your neck again, sucking on the skin and giving you little kisses.

“I'm so close again,” you whined. It wasn't your fault, anyway. You were already so sensitive from this heat, and now he just wanted to fuck you like a little toy. At least now his hands were on your waist as he held you tightly. They would probably bloom into purples and blues tomorrow.

“M-me too,” he replied. His thrusts became more erratic as his grip on you tightened. “Let's come together,” he added before kissing you fully on your abused lips. You nodded, speechless as he continued to jerk into you. Roman let out a shaky breath as he located where your scent glands were, nibbling on it.

“Are you going to mate me?” you managed to breathe out. Both the rational and irrational parts of you wanted him to, and you give him a little clench around his length. He gasped before thrusting into your sweet spot. Through your moans, you tried to tease him a bit more. “Romani, please bite me. Nn... finish inside, too.”

With encouragement from you, he lapped at your skin before his hips stuttered, coming inside you just as when he bit into you. Pain blossomed from your neck, and a few tears pricked at the corners of your eyes before you came. Your walls fluttered, milking his cock and cum for all it was worth as he licked droplets of blood beading from your mark.

The pain from the bite subsides into small stings here and there as the two of you come down from your high. You breath a little easier now, especially when your body was finally cooling down. Roman had collapsed onto you, panting as well. His sweaty body should've grossed you out, but you still held onto him tightly. His cock was still plugged into you, keeping all the warm cum inside.

The two of you rested for a while before Roman tiredly looked down on your bite mark. His eyes snapped open in alarm as he skimmed his thumb over it.

“W-wait, I marked you?” he asked. Panic flooded your body instead of bliss, and you frowned as you raised a hand to hide it from him. Did he not like it? Was he already regretting it? “Oh no. Sorry. Oh God. You must feel forced—I'm sorry, I know you didn't want it, and—“

You released the tension from your body as you cupped his face in your hands, effectively shushing him. “No, it's alright. I love you, Romani,” you said. “It's different if you don't want it, though...”

“N-no! I love you too, I want it,” he stammers out. His nervousness and everything made you laugh, the corners of your eyes crinkling as you grinned at him. He eyed you, still a bit ashamed as he marked you in the heat of the moment. Nooo, I wanted it to be special!

“I'll mark you after all this is over,  I promise,” you told him. “You look like the type to want everything to be romantic, anyway,” you teased. He felt his cheeks warm up as he tried to avert his gaze from yours. Aw, he's acting like a shy schoolgirl!

Even as his body heated up in embarrassment, you moved closer to him, snuggling next to his chest as the two of you rest. You clung to him like a baby koala, he noted, before wrapping his arms around you. After all, this wouldn't be the only time you'd be doing it for the whole week.

[yatorihell]

In The Darkness Chapter 77 - The Visit

Noragami x Harry Potter AU

Words: 4,582

Summary: The trio visit Godric’s Hollow.

Also available on Yatorihell A03

Winter rolled in and the days blurred into each other.

Yukine’s birthday passed without much celebration – not that they had been keeping tracked of the dates in the first place. During a trip for supplies, they bought a little cake – a decadent rarity in the new travelling life they had – and presented it to Yukine at dinner.

The frustrations had eased lightly, the horcrux now being carried in their pockets rather than around their necks to keep contact to a minimum, but Yato still felt that nag that he wasn’t doing enough. If it wasn’t a glimmer of rubies, a serpent’s eyes, or his own name being whispered like wind in the eaves in his visions, it was Sakura who greeted him. A pallor like death and her face contorted, reaching around his neck before disappearing beyond the veil.

“Can you not see anything?” Yukine prodded.

Yato suppressed a groan. This became the new routine: sleep, see nothing, wake up, get questioned. He could understand the need to pick apart every part of the dreams he had, but there was nothing there.

“No, I can’t see anything,” Yato replied as calmly as he could.

Yukine huffed and fell silent.

The Sorcerer seemed to be stronger at preventing Yato see his memories. If they could work out how to destroy the locket, maybe it would weaken his defences enough to find the other horcruxes.

Yato told himself this daily, a strained belief that the first step was destroying the locket. It would be the second out of Merlin knew how many, but still, how many horcruxes could one person make? How many times could they tear their soul apart and still feel human? He could only hope there was a limit.

“I think I found a lead on how to destroy horcruxes,” Hiyori said later that evening.

Yato looked at her, eyes tired in the dying lamplight. On her lap was that infernal Dark Arts book she read through every evening, seemingly doing more to find horcruxes than he was. In her hands she held the book Professor Tenjin left her, Tales of Beedle the Bard.

Hiyori patted the spot beside her on her bed, and Yato ambled over. Yukine looked on from his spot on the floor where he’d bundled himself in a blanket.

“Look at this,” Hiyori pointed at one of the dozens of marks that had been etched over the book’s pages. A circle within a triangle, crossed through with a vertical line. He blinked at it for a minute, then looked at Hiyori.

“You know I failed Ancient Runes,” Yato said. “’Affinity for failure’, Takemikazuchi said.”

Hiyori shook her head. “It’s not a rune.”

Hiyori put down the book and refocused on the Dark Arts book. She flipped to a page and showed him and Yukine, who had finally risen to see what she was talking about. The same symbol was printed in the top right corner, besides a name in dark lettering. Their mouths fell open.

“Not the Grindelwald? Certified madman purist?” Yukine asked, craning his head to try to read the scribbled writing.

“One of the most dangerous Dark Wizards, Grindelwald believed that wizards were oppressed by Muggles and wanted to return ‘the natural order’,” Hiyori recited.

“Like the Sorcerer,” Yato said.

Hiyori nodded and continued. “He attended Durmstrang, which is famous for its relaxed approach to the Dark Arts, and got expelled for attacking students and… unethical experiments. He became obsessed with the Deathly Hallows, which is what this symbol is.”

Hiyori picked up the Beedle the Bard storybook again and flicked to the front page where they could see the same symbol.

“The Philosophers Stone, the Cloak of Invisibility, and the Elder Wand,” Hiyori pointed at each as she went. “He wanted to retrieve all three and become the Master of Death. He got as far as the Elder Wand before he was captured.”

“Then what?” Yukine asked.

“He disappeared.”

Yukine let out a breath that was nearly a snort. “That’s the Ministry for you, can’t keep hold of the Darkest Wizards.”

“How do the Deathly Hallows help us?” Yato interrupted.

He knew the Philosophers Stone was said to be used to create the Elixir of Life, giving the drinker immortality. Kugaha had revealed his own version which could contain life force derived from a soul vessel, which was the diary Yato had destroyed in the Chamber of Secrets. He doubted he nor the Sorcerer was in possession of it if he had to resort to horcruxes.

The invisibility cloak, well, there were lots of them, even he had one. But the Elder Wand was something obscured in myth, legend, and fairy-tale, like the book in Hiyori’s lap. No one knew who owned the Elder Wand due to the curse of jealousy that came with it; its owners murdered in their beds by others craving its power.

A storybook seemed an unlikely answer to destroying horcruxes, but Hiyori was thinking of the bigger picture.

“It’s not the Hallows we need, it’s the name,” Hiyori put down the book and folded her hand on her lap like she was about to reveal the biggest revelation in the world. “Grindelwald had family in Godric’s Hollow.”

Yato flinched inwardly at the village name, but it went unnoticed. Hiyori looked at them expectantly, but the penny still hung in the air.

“How does that help us?” Yukine prompted.

“Grindelwald’s symbol was in this book. Grindelwald was from Godric’s Hollow,” Hiyori paused for a moment, still seeing their blank faces.

“What if Professor Tenjin knew that he couldn’t give you the sword? What if he hid it somewhere we could find it, using the gifts he gave us?”

“The Sword of Gryffindor is locked up in Hogwarts,” Yato pointed out.

“But is it the real sword?”

Yato and Yukine paused. It was a longshot, but would Professor Tenjin have the foresight to know that the sword would be kept from them?

“Where would we find it?” Yukine asked.

Hiyori’s face fell just a fraction. “I don’t know…”

“It’s a start at least,” Yato encouraged. “You found a clue!”

Hiyori smiled gently. “Thank you.”

Yukine picked his blanket up from the floor and crossed back to his own bed. “Let’s just hope we don’t get snatched before we find it.”

~

The next time they had stopped for supplies was in the midst of a snowstorm.

They left their camp wrapped in hats and scarves to hide their faces and apparated. When they emerged in a sleepy village that was covered in snow, Yato recognised it instantly. The houses they passed were decked in wreaths, the front room lights glowing warm and making them silently wish that they had the luxury of a home to go back to.

Godric’s Hollow was mainly a wizarding population, and visiting wasn’t a risk they would take if there wasn’t something important hidden within.

The main thoroughfare of the village was quiet aside from the drunken cheers from the pub further down the road, but Yukine pulled his scarf around his mouth and entered the shop alone. Whilst they would apparate together, going in shops alone was one way of making sure Snatchers and snitches wouldn’t recognise three of the wizarding worlds most wanted huddled around cans of soup.

Yato looked wistfully up the road, heart hammering and mouth dry. He hadn’t been here since that day, and the knowledge of that made him feel sick.

“Do you want to visit her?”

Yato snapped his head back. Hiyori had pulled her pink scarf from around her mouth by a finger, looking at him with soft eyes. He looked back, through the snow where he could just make out the church tower standing out against the sky. Maybe the horcrux was playing with his heart, feeling its erratic beat on the underside of the locket, but pulsating need to go was enough to move him.

He nodded.

They walked silently from the shop, not bothering to let Yukine know where they were going. But either way, anyone who knew Yato would know the first place he would go, for this village just so happened to be where Sakura was laid to rest.

The church dominated the sky as they entered through the small metal gate that had become stuck open in a snowdrift. The stain-glassed windows glowed dimly, and a faint noise could be heard from inside, but they turned left and followed the hidden pathway that skirted the edges.

The small churchyard was where they had erected a headstone and said their own private mass for those who knew Sakura. Yato remembered Professor Tenjin, Kofuku, Daikoku, and nameless faces gathered around the plot of earth that held no coffin, laying late-blooming cherry blossoms atop the grass and saying their final goodbyes.

Now Yato could see that those branches were long gone, cleared away by the groundskeeper probably not too long after the funeral. A thick layer of snow capped the black stone, the golden words not quite faded yet like the memory of her voice. The flowerpot was blackened with dirt and the rainwater inside surely frozen, not that there were flowers to begin with.

They looked at the gravestone in silence, allowing the snowflakes to settle on the sleeves of their coats and star their woolly hats in multitude of fading constellations. The ringing of bells sounded behind them, and slowly, a gentle hum of singing reached them across the barrenness of forgotten souls.

“I think it’s Christmas eve,” Hiyori said gently.

Yato said nothing, just stared at the marble that listed Sakura’s name, birth and death. Underneath were the words that named her sister, friend; that was all the monument that her life held.

Hiyori quietly stepped forward and knelt on the frosty ground before the headstone. Wordlessly she waved her wand in a circular motion, a cherry blossom wreath appearing against the grave.

Yato smiled sadly at the small yet great gesture as she stood up and stepped back beside him. His hand caught hers in a silent thank you, which she squeezed in return and leaned her head against his shoulder. Maybe this was the closure he needed to clear his visions.

“Happy Christmas, Hiyori,” Yato murmured.

“Happy Christmas, Yato.”

They stayed like that for a moment longer, lingering in the comfort and warmth they gave each other. Yato’s eyes flickered up to the dark churchyard railings that divided the living from the dead. In the dying snow flurry, he could see a figure stood in the road directly facing them.

At first he thought it was Yukine, allowing them a moment's privacy to remember Sakura, but the figure was too short and had an unnerving aura to it. Yato tightened his grip on his wand but looked away, pretending he hadn’t seen the stocky figure.

“Someone’s watching us,” Yato murmured quietly, looking to the left beyond Hiyori at the rows of wonky headstones.

She looked at him, eyes wide under snowcapped lashes before she subtly looked to the railings. She frowned, her breath fogging in front of her. “Isn’t that Iwami?”

Yato allowed his eyes to slide over again, but the figure was already retreating. From a distance he couldn’t be sure, but the white tufts of hair and the small, hunched build under the coat could’ve been him. He was one of the oldest members of the Order of the Phoenix, serving alongside Tenjin in the First Wizarding War, yet he hadn’t been seen since Kofuku told them about members going missing before Tenjin’s death.

The figure stopped and looked back but continued down centre of the abandoned road.

“I think he wants us to follow,” Yato murmured. Could Hiyori be right? Was the Sword of Gryffindor hidden here all along, in Tenjin’s birthplace and already in the Orders possession? Had Iwami stolen away with it, keeping it safe under Tenjin’s orders?

Hiyori looked back up the road towards the shop. “We should wait for Yukine -.”

“It’s ok, Iwami is in the Order,” Yato cut in. He took Hiyori’s hand and started up the path towards the exit, heart beating harder.

Iwami was nearly a smudge in the snowfall, but their paces quickly caught up to him outside a derelict house on the outskirts of the village. The windows had been shattered and the door hung from its hinges, letting a small snowdrift pile up in the hallway. Bits of debris that seemed to have been thrown from the windows were strewn across the front garden and covered in a thick layer of snow.

Iwami shuffled inside, not looking back as Yato and Hiyori hung around the gate. He disappeared into the shadows of the house, not bothering to turn on any lights. They stood outside for a moment, wondering why he hadn’t greeted them nor invited them in.

“Should we go in?” Hiyori whispered.

A groaning came from inside, and Yato nodded. “He said come in.”

Yato led the way inside the house, stepping over the frozen post that had piled up on the floor and been obscured by snow of the same colour. He could tell that this wasn’t Iwami’s residency due to the smell of something foul and the moulting interior. The furniture was broken and the lightbulbs had been smashed in their holdings, leaving them in pure darkness.

Yato’s eyes adjusted and he saw Iwami’s stout, hunched figure at the bottom of the stairs. He didn’t look quite right; all shadows and lines in his face and a gait that told them he was at the end of his days. He spoke again, and Yato’s ears attuned to his speech.

“Is it here?” Yato asked quietly, matching his tone. “The Sword of Gryffindor? Professor Tenjin -.”

Iwami spoke again, a rasp that barely reached Hiyori’s ears. He turned and started up the stairs, footsteps thumping slowly and methodically with every step.

Yato looked back at Hiyori for a second and followed him.

The stairs were narrow and steep, and Yato feared Iwami may fall back at any moment, but they made it to the top of the stairs. None of the rooms Yato could see had doors, leading to gaping abysses of foreboding darkness that were barely illuminated by the streetlamp outside. He followed Iwami inside the front bedroom, wand pressed to his side.

There was a moment of silence. Yato waited patiently, but still he could feel the steady thrum of his heart against the locket, an unpleasant and agitating feeling.

“You are Yato.”

It was a statement, not a question, but Yato nodded regardless. “Do you have something for me?”

Iwami close his eyes and Yato felt an uncomfortable prickle run over his body. The horcrux jerked against his skin and the world swam in a hazy shadowed blur. Before him, Iwami’s mouth opened and his eyelids fluttered, his eyes rolling back in his head as a long tendril pushed out from his mouth. The sound of scales slithering within skin filled the room, and in the distance, he heard Hiyori scream.

The body collapsed to the floor and a serpent spilled from its mouth, slick with salvia glistening against the black scales. The same snake he saw in his visions; the same one that he saw in his bedroom at Hogwarts.

In the time it took for Yato to raise his wand the snake struck his arm, puncturing the skin through his coat.

Yato gasped, somehow keeping a grip on his wand, as its tail slammed into his stomach, a coil of muscle that sent him staggering back towards the door. He heard footsteps on the stairs, unable to call out to Hiyori and tell her to get out. The tail lashed against his ankle and Yato fell with a pained grunt. He felt the coils of scales encircle him, muscular and heavy as the serpent’s head slithered up his chest. The horcrux thrummed harder against his chest as if beating in time with the flickering forked tongue.

“Yaboku…”

Yato felt his vision darkening, arms held tight against his chest, wand useless.

The snake's head darted up suddenly, fangs bared in a hiss as a spell rippled over its body. Its body convulsed and loosened, and Yato gasped, kicking his legs free and coughing. He saw the snake's body in the darkness strike at Hiyori, heard her shriek as she dodged it and flung another spell at it.

Red light briefly lit up the hallway as the snake was flung backward and narrowly missed Yato as he stood. If there was a door he would’ve slammed it shut, but instead, he watched the snake flip over the suit of skin and come at them again with renewed vigour.

Yato raised his wand, arm aching with what he hoped wasn’t poison, and bellowed, “Confringo!”

Yato threw himself over Hiyori, shielding her against the wall. The bedroom exploded. The shattered glass on the floor bounced around the room, the furniture reverberated and splintered, and in the din, they heard the snake scream.

Yato’s head split open with white noise, an unbearable searing pain against his heart forcing the world to go white as snow and then black as night.

~

Feet walking barefoot through rivers of blood on white marble. The steady drip of crimson running from a hand, splattering on the floor like blooming roses.

A long, elegant black wand. The word ‘Nagini’ whispered like a prayer in the language of snakes.

The feeling of ripping a soul apart and simultaneously taking one for a perverted act of Dark magic.

A woman with long dark hair crying, a ring on her finger that looked so familiar yet unfamiliar as it still contained her lover’s soul.

The locket. Grindelwald's mark. A two-handled goblet he’d seen in multiple portraits at Hogwarts. 

The serpent’s eyes, yellow and glowing like a Basilisk.

~

Yato came to with a start. He was in the tent, in his own bed. His coat and jumper had been peeled off and the duvet was tucked around him. From the still air, dim lamplight, and the lack of warmth in the tent, it could have been the middle of the night. A sheen of sweat trickled down his face. His sudden movement brought Hiyori to his side instantly, closely followed by Yukine. His eyes focused in the dim yellow glow as the lamp was brought to his bedside.

“What happened?” Yato croaked.

“You blacked out at the house,” Hiyori answered. She held a sponge in her hand, and Yato noticed the small cuts on her face where he failed to protect her from the glass. “Yukine heard us from the churchyard and came running. We apparated out of there before the snake woke up.”

Yato looked at Yukine, dazed. From the look on his face, Yukine was more worried than he was pissed off, but the fact that fear outweighed anger scared him.

“How long was I out?” Yato asked.

“Hours, it's nearly morning,” Hiyori dropped the sponge into the bowl of water next to the bed.

“We couldn’t get the horcrux off you,” Hiyori continued. “We had to use a Severing Charm to get it off you; it was like touching fire. And the snake bit you, so I put some salve on them.”

Yato gingerly pushed down his duvet just enough to see an angry red burn in the centre of his chest, right above his heart. His knuckles were white and cut, and the punctures in his arm weren’t as deep as they felt. No doubt the rest of his was as battered and bruised as he felt. He remembered the pulsating beat of the horcrux that he mistook for his own heartbeat, the jerking thrum it made when he was in close contact with the snake. It was as natural as it was agitating.

“Where is it?” Yato looked around, less desperately than he might’ve had if it hadn’t maimed him.

“In the bag. We’ll leave it there for a few days.”

Yato flopped back onto the bed and closed his eyes. “That was the same snake that attacked Daikoku in the Department of Mysteries.”

He opened his eyes again and stared at the canvas, feeling Hiyori’s and Yukine’s eyes intently on him. “I think it’s his pet – ‘Nagini’.”

He tasted the name on his lips. It was foreign to him, and although the thought of the most powerful Dark Wizard in the world having a pet was unthinkable, it was less so knowing that this was the kind he had.

“Iwami…” Yato asked questioningly, looking at the pair, but Hiyori shook her head.

“Dead in the cupboard.”

“It must’ve used him as a skin to lure us to the house,” Yato sighed. He dragged a hand over his face.

In his desperation to get the sword, he put Hiyori’s life at risk. He wasn’t even sure it was Iwami until he had them in the house and nearly butchered them. Even then, he hadn’t been seen in nearly a year – he was one of the members who had gone missing, presumed dead or defected. Now they knew what had happened; the Sorcerer was using their own against them.

“What was he saying to you?” Hiyori asked.

Yato pushed himself up and accepted the fresh t-shirt Yukine offered him. “What do you mean? You were there.”

“You weren’t talking English,” Hiyori countered. “It was just…”

“Hisses?” Yukine finished. They both looked at him and he offered a single shrug. “Yato speaks parseltonuge; it’s how he found me in the Chamber of Secrets. He sleeptalks it too.”

Yato rubbed his head again, feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on. He hadn’t spoken parseltongue in years, but he didn’t even realise he was speaking it when he talked to Nagini. It came so easily, like slipping into another skin and talking with an old friend. Once again, the name Yaboku was spoken in a sweetly sinister hiss that was all too familiar.

“Did you have a vision?” Yukine asked, but this time the question didn’t annoy Yato. He paused.

“I saw him.” The footsteps in blood, the wand, the voice – it was all the Sorcerer. And those flashes – Izanami wearing the ring horcrux, a two-handled goblet… “I saw his memories.”

Yato briefly described the vision, along with the new information about the goblet. Yukine frowned. “That sounds like Helga Hufflepuff’s goblet.”

It clicked into place as soon as he said it. He’d seen her portrait at Hogwarts, most recently in the Hufflepuff dormitories when he got love-potioned. A golden goblet encrusted with jewels and etched with a badger was held in her hands as she looked at him disapprovingly.

“How can that be a horcrux? Hufflepuffs cup went missing years ago, along with Ravenclaws Diadem,” Hiyori pondered.

“We know he attended Hogwarts. I wouldn’t be surprised if they went missing around the same time he left, or he was able to get in using a Vanishing Cabinet to steal them,” Yukine pointed out, folding his arms over his chest. “If that’s the case, he had possession of all the founder’s relics.”

They fell silent. Godric Gryffindor’s sword which had been withheld from them and was now lost. Helga Hufflepuff’s cup was now a horcrux. Rowena Ravenclaw’s diadem had been also been lost or stolen. The Chamber of Secrets and the Basilisk was Salazar Slytherin’s ‘gift’ to Hogwarts, and was now dead. It seemed to be a personal vendetta if the Sorcerer was using Hogwarts’ own founding relics against them.

“Did you see where it was at least?” Yukine asked, but Yato shook his head in silence.

Hiyori’s thoughts cut the silence again with fresh fear. “How did we get traced again? Just like the café, something happened and they found us. Only this time they were more careful about the execution.”

Or lack of, Yato thought, but he had a point – something happened and they were followed. No one could follow their apparations unless they touched them, and if they had been sighted, Snatchers would’ve got to them before they could escape.

Yato let out a frustrated huff. “I don’t know how we were followed, but we should get going.”

“What about the sword?”

“They probably got to it before us.”

Yato kicked the duvet free, happy to see they’d left his trousers on unlike his shirt, and swung himself out of bed. He winced at the bruises on his side and nearly kicked over the water bowl on the floor before Yukine caught his elbow. Yato let out a wheezed laugh. It had been a while since he’d taken a beating; he was getting soft if a snake could get the best of him.

“Don’t suppose you know a spell to fix broken ribs?” Yato half-heartedly joked, though the thought of protruding ribs was something that could become a possibility. He looked at Hiyori and caught the secret look that passed between her and Yukine.

Yato’s smile slipped. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s another problem,” Yukine said slowly, but the words alone were enough to have a wave of assumptions wash over him in a second.

Yato looked at Hiyori, expecting her to reveal a fatal snake bite she was concealing for his own sake, or that he did indeed have broken ribs. Her eyes snagged on his and she bit her lip.

“My wand broke… when the spell bounced,” Hiyori murmured.

Yato’s heart sank. His spell blew up the room Hiyori’s wand with it – her first and only wand. His mind raced for an answer as he held her gaze, but there was none – a trip down Diagon Alley was out of the question.

Hiyori was unarmed.

~

They moved camp later that day, setting up somewhere in the south where there was little to no snowfall and remote enough that they would be found.

Yato found himself more alert despite his injuries, hyperaware that Hiyori had no way to defend herself. They listened to Kazuma’s radio show; first the list of the dead and snatched, then the true news updates about the Ministry. Kazuma revealed that the Sword of Gryffindor had been relocated from Hogwarts after a failed robbery, but it only disheartened them more to know it was well and truly out of reach. They pushed their stew around their bowls, lost in thought.

When night fell, Yato realised the world had shifted.

After that night in Godric’s Hollow, a silent agreement was made to share each other's company as the winter nights grew longer and colder, and the nightmares of serpents, rotting corpses and death slithered into their dreams.

Yukine pretended not to notice the first time when Hiyori sniffled and quietly slipped out of bed in the dead of night, thinking that he was still asleep. She tiptoed across the creaking wooden slats to Yato’s bed for solstice, finding the single duvet flipped already open for her to crawl in beside him. Her shivering only stopped when she curled up against him and his arm draped over her side, thumb rubbing small, gentle circles on her back as he coaxed her back to sleep.

Twinned with the warmth radiating from under his t-shirt and the steady beat of his heart, dreamless sleep eventually claimed Hiyori. Her fingers loosely clung to his bed shirt as she nuzzled into the deep smell of the boy that held her even closer than he would if she were awake.

When sleep finally claimed Yato, for the first time in weeks there was no vision.

[athenril-of-kirkwall]

okay lets do this *cracks fingers* Solavellan: oral sex, where they can be overheard and with (optionally) sex pollen

Merry Xmas! Have some filthy, filthy, filth.

Solavellan, “Priapic Venom” (AO3) [Explicit]

“Excellent,” Solas remarked as he observed the elven artifact pulse with the same green energy which emanated from Rivka’s palm. “That should strengthen the Veil here for the time being.”

Clapping imaginary dust from her hands, Rivka said, “I think that’s well enough for one day. I don’t know about you, Solas, but I’ve honestly had it with this wet, spider-infested cave.”

“I concur entirely,” he said, turning away from the waterfall and heading towards the cave’s mouth. “It’ll be pleasant to return to camp and warm up a little by the fires—urk!!

That interruption of the usually unflappable Solas’ exposition had been caused by a vicious bite by one of those spiders which Rivka had been complaining about just now. He and Rivka sprung into action, making short work of the pest and leading it to explode in a mass of viscera and green blood some few moments later.

Wiping some off the gore off her armour, Rivka commented, “Speak of the Dread Wolf and he turns up. Now I’m going to have to wash spider guts off my arm…”

Her voice trailed off as she turned around to see Solas lying on the ground, weakly propping his back up against one of the columns of flowstone in the middle of the cave. He looked even paler than usual, and looked as limp as a puppet with its strings strewn on a floor…with one notable exception, of which Rivka was actively avoiding catching an eyeful as she looked up at him concernedly.

“Vhenan,” he croaked, “I can’t feel my arms.”

“I think I know where all the blood went to,” Rivka said, letting herself finally observe the considerable bulge in his trousers.

“Dear me,” Solas muttered, finally noticing his predicament.

Rivka scrambled to fish an elfroot potion from her belt, uncorking it and dribbling its contents into Solas’ mouth, before stripping her gloves off, followed by the outer layers of her armour.

“What are you—?”, he asked, growing more concerned with every article of clothing she was removing.

“You must have encountered this in one of the more lurid dreams you experienced whilst exploring the Fade,” she explained. “It certainly was mandatory education in my clan, although to be frank…I never expected to ever use this knowledge in my lifetime.”

“Of course I recognise a paralytic poison, vhenan, but what do you mean?”

“This is no ordinary paralytic agent, Solas,” Rivka explained, now completely bare above her beltline except for her undershirt. “You’ve just been bitten with priapic venom.”

Solas’ eyes widened as he spluttered, “Priapic…venom…?”

Rivka nodded gravely. “Creators know what sick purpose the Forgotten Ones had in mind when they imbued animals with the stuff—probably Anaris’ doing, the old pervert—and in other forms it’s a mild aphrodisiac, but right now you’ve been poisoned, and rather sadistically at that.”

“Are you saying that this priapic venom is causing not just my paralysis but…”

“Quite so,” Rivka said. “Who knows how many hunters have met a disastrous and humiliating end thanks to this stuff, unable to relieve themselves to the last.”

“That brings me back to my original question,” Solas said, following Rivka’s gaze to his own belt. “What are you planning to do, vhenan?”

Raising an eyebrow as she reached for another vial, Rivka said, “It’s quite simple. I’m going to relieve you.”

Quivering in outrage as much as his deadened muscles could manage, he protested, “I absolutely refuse! I shouldn’t…you shouldn’t…”

“Solas,” Rivka said sternly. “If this isn’t taken care of, your penis may well be defective for the rest of your life.”

“Nevertheless, I won’t let you give yourself to me, not in these circumstances of all things.”

Guiding Solas to her trousers, which were still belted and buttoned up, she said, “I think you need to relax a little, Solas. I wasn’t about to have a tryst with you in this dank, wet, cave.”

“Then what…?”, Solas asked blearily.

Looking up at him as she squatted back in front of him, Rivka said, “I’m simply going to perform the remedy, unless of course you’d prefer me to summon the nurse from the campsite…?”

Turning the options over in his head and figuring the latter was more mortifying than the former, Solas finally conceded, “Very well, do as you wish.”

“You make it sound so romantic,” Rivka said, rolling her eyes.

Pulling his trousers and smalls down, revealing a truly torturous erection, and pouring a vial of Prophet’s Laurel oil over her hands, spreading the lotion on her palms once it was exposed to the chill air. Finally taking a good look at it, Rivka blinked as she appreciated its size. It was…considerably respectable, easily the length of her hand from palm base to fingertip, and wide enough to look proportionate and not, uh, skinny.

Not that she’d seen all that many penises in her life, but she knew enough to recognise one that would cause considerable envy. Maybe she should be spending less time staring at it and, well, doing the necessary treatment.

Breathing on her palms to make sure she wasn’t about to chill Solas with her touch, Rivka got to work, wrapping it with her right hand and slowly pumping it. Blood started rising in Solas’ pale cheeks, which at least was some kind of indication that she was doing it right. Drawing upon her limited experience, she tried a kind of rotating motion at its base with her left hand, then deciding that it wasn’t really working, she settled on massaging his balls.

Hearing a deep groan rise from Solas’ breast, she looked up at him teasingly, asking, “Enjoying ourselves, are we?”

-

Continued on AO3, because this is 2000+ words about Rivka jerking Solas off and blowing him too. See you there!

@dadrunkwriting

[elsanna-shenanigans]

December Contest Submission #20: Never shall you ask me

Words: ca. 4500 Setting: Viking AU / late 9th century Norway Lemon: no CW: strong language, mentions of animal sacrifice, blood

Elsa Agnarrsdóttir had never minded the cold. It was warmth that made her shiver.

The cold had been her constant companion for as long as she could remember: at first, long days spent by the seashore, waiting for her father’s drakkar to fly into Arnardalr’s harbour laden with riches from foreign lands, ocean breeze tearing at her braid and gown and salt wash speckling her skin. Then, after, silent marches through wintery woods, white as far as the eye could see, with no companion save the darkness and the numbing chill in her bones.

The warmth, though? Loge’s flickering child had danced through the straw and thatch and rafters of her father’s hall like a hungry houseguest as, below, her kinsmen had fallen to the storm of shining battle-flames. The warmth had seared her, marked her for its own. Even now she feared it, for it meant the din of cups and the laughter of men in the feast hall, the company of ravens and the courtesy of wolves. 

Her maidservants shuddered as they stepped out into the cold from the heat of the mead hall and drew their furs closer, but Elsa stood proud and tall as a mast. She breathed in the sea breeze, felt the chill through the fabric of her dress. The guards outside—Hans’s—gave her respectful nods as she passed and fell in after them.

In silence, they proceeded outside the village and climbed the Thing hill, a bare, rocky knoll overlooking the harbour. Her grandfather, King Rúnharðr Rauðskeggr, had erected a runestone there, praising his deeds, but Hans had allowed the painted runes to weather away, so that only faded carvings remained. As the women and their guards ascended the hill, they passed through the crowd that had already assembled: housecarls and freemen from all around the valley, some with their sons, wives and thralls in tow, all arrayed in festive garments according to their means. They ringed King Rúnharðr’s runestone like waves in a pond, but made way for them. Some nodded respectfully as she passed. Others—far more—hid their faces and would not look at her.

Jarl Hans Haraldsson, called Hans Suðeyingr, stood at the top of the knoll, leaning on the runestone. Part of Elsa bristled at the desecration, but she knew there was no point in protesting. Hans gave her a wide smile that looked disconcertingly genuine, and one of her companions gasped with barely-veiled delight at the sight. Elsa resisted the urge to scowl at the swooning girl—even she had to admit that Hans was handsome, the very image of a young hero. His flame-red hair and beard were elegantly braided with golden ringlets, his mail shirt merrily glittered in the morning light, and his clothes were richly embroidered with gold and silver thread. His father’s many crowns certainly did not hurt his appeal, even if he was the youngest and least storied of King Haraldr’s many sons. Yes, Hans’s smile had an uncanny ability to make women swoon and fluster, there was no denying it—except, of course, for his betrothed, the woman he had swornhis eternal love a hundred times.

Well, former betrothed. Hans spread his arms as she approached, his smile widening. Elsa scowled at him. She knew better than to be taken in by his smiles and promises. “There she is! I’m glad we did not need to drag you here in chains.” Without paying her any further heed, he looked around. “Men of Arnardalr, you have heard my charge, and I have presented my witnesses. Now hear what she has to say for herself.”

The lawspeaker of the Thing stepped forth from the crowd. She knew Kai Lǫgmaðr well—he had served her father as a housecarl, once. Of course, he had then gone on to serve Hans as a housecarl, but he was not a southerner like the others—a good and loyal man, and wise, just like Gerðr his wife. She thought he cared for her wellbeing, but she had the feeling that would not help her today. “Lady Elsa,” he addressed her darkly, “Jarl Hans has accused you before the thing of murdering your sister, Anna Agnarrsdóttir, by drowning her in the sea five years ago. How do you respond to the charge?”

Elsa ground her teeth. She had been thirteen when Anna—aged ten—had disappeared. That had been less than a year after the southerners had come. With their parents slain and their foes living in their hall, the sisters had only had each other. They’d been inseparable. Except for that day. Elsa could not even recall why she had been mad at her little sister—something foolish involving Hans, no doubt. She had always resented the way Anna had idolised the son of their parents’ killer for every little kindness he had thrown their way like scraps to his dogs. Some stupid argument had sent her running back to the village while playing in the woods, leaving Anna behind. Her sister had not returned that night, and days of searching had come up with nothing.

Many years, Elsa had held on to the hope that somewhere, somehow, Anna might still be alive. I would have felt it, she had told herself and any who would listen. But as the years passed, this certainty had faded away, leaving only a dull ache and yearning, and the dreams that robbed her of her sleep. They had never found the body, but there were all sorts of danger in the woods for a little girl, from wolves to brigands. It was no use thinking about it—only regret remained: that her last words to Anna had been spoken in anger, and that Anna had never been baptised. Elsa prayed that meant Anna had gone to Fólkvangr, as her parents had taught them, not hell.

“Lady Elsa?”

She startled at Kai’s voice. “I reject the charge,” she then said. “I swear by the Virgin that I am guiltless. Moreover, I accuse Hans Suðeyingr of perjury, and call him a liar.”

A gasp went through the crowd, but Kai nodded. “You have that right. What witnesses do you offer?”

Elsa lowered her head. This was it. “None.” The crowd murmured, and Hans chuckled quietly to himself. “But,” she raised her voice, “I do not need any. I challenge Hans Suðeyingr to defend his lies. Is there anyone here who will brave the holmgang for me?”

The crowd fell silent. She looked around at weathered warriors who had raided with her father and stripling boys who had never held a sword. God, please. “Is there no drengr who will fight for me?” There was no response, and her heart sank. “Hear then how I will reward my champion! He shall take everything my father owned. And—” She swallowed. She knew what she had to say, but that did not make it harder. “And if he pleases, he may take me to wife.”

Still, there was silence. Hans’s hot breath brushed over her shoulder and she shivered. “Sounds like no one wants your frigid little kunta, dear. They know who owns you.” Elsa wanted nothing more than to draw her knife and stab him. If she was to be killed as a kinslayer, she’d happily take him with her. Even so, she knew he wasn’t wrong—year after year, she had refused one of the most eligible bachelors in Norway. People talked.

Silence. Elsa hung her head.

“I’ll fight for her!” The high voice had come from the edge of the crowd, where the thralls and younger sons stood. “Oh, sorry—excuse me—coming through …” Her heart sunk. Then, it leapt, as a vision of her father emerged out of the crowd. No—not her father. Still, for a moment, she had been fooled. The stranger was beardless and scrawny, scarcely fifteen winters under his belt. He had her father’s bright copper hair, though, worn long and gathered in a ponytail at the back, and large, eager turquoise eyes. He was simply-dressed in a green tunic and blue leggings, and had a small axe on his belt and a shield slung around his shoulders. An iron broach in the shape of a swan held his cloak. She had never seen him before.

The stranger grinned at her with such obvious enthusiasm she found herself returning a faint smile, even as her heart sunk. No, you fool, she wanted to shout, Hans is going to carve you up like a slab of meat, but no words came across her lips.

“I will fight for you,” he repeated, and took her hand in his. She nearly flinched from the touch, from the warmth of his skin. “But there is something you must promise me first.”

“What?” The question died in her throat.

The grin disappeared. Bright turquoise eyes stared at her, insistent and piercing. His words were like an incantation. “Never shall you ask me, nor trouble yourself to know, whence I have come, nor what my name and clan.”

An outlaw, then. A fugitive thrall. She wanted to laugh in his face. She whispered: “I … swear it.”

The stranger beamed, pure bliss in his eyes. “I love you, Elsa,” he blurted out, rushed in and pressed his lips to hers. For a moment, she froze as warmth sent shivers down her entire body. Then, she stumbled, jumped away from the kiss. The stranger seemed utterly unperturbed, but her face—and her lips, and something else—burnt like fire. “Now hear, Hans Haraldsson!” he shouted so all could hear. “Elsa Agnarrsdóttir is without guilt or fault—let it be known to you through Valföðr’s choice!”

Later, Elsa could not have said why she had ever underestimated her champion. Hans was a mighty drengr and an experienced viking, true, but the stranger moved with the grace of a cat and attacked with the ferocity of a wolf. Three times they met upon the island, and three times the stranger’s axe cleft deep into Hans’s shield. When the third shield split, the first drops of blood flowed. “Through Odin’s word, your life belongs to me,” the stranger had called out, the blade of his axe at prone Hans’s throat, then helped him up to his feet. “Take it as my gift, and use it well.”

And then it was over.

Even as an outlaw, no one dared lay hands on Jarl Hans or his loyal housecarls, so he quietly left the valley. Part of Elsa wished she had gotten her revenge, but at least this way he was gone. That left the oath she had sworn to save her life.

She barely spoke to her drengr over the next three days as they feasted and drank. The stranger sat at the head of the table, talking to jarls and þegns thrice his age like he had been born to it, while Elsa sat silently at his side, poking at her food. She loathed the heat and smoke of the mead hall. The flickering fire at its centre made her eyes water, while the shouting and laughter of the guests felt like horses galloping through her skull. But every time she caught the eye of her betrothed, he would smile at her, eyes wide and bright, as though she was the most precious hoard in the nine worlds. He would say something, and more often than not it would make her laugh, and by the time another well-wisher or petitioner came up to the high table it was easier to bear.

After three days of feasting, it was time for the ceremonies. Her groom bade her farewell with a chaste kiss as they parted—him heading for the grove, Elsa for the church with the other Christians. It was no more than a brief peck on the cheek, and yet the spot his lips had touched burned for hours afterwards. Was this what it was supposed to feel like? A few boys had tried to kiss her in the past, not the least of which was Hans, but she had always been repulsed and nauseated by the sensation. This was … pleasant. It made her burn, yes, made her body heat up like all the fires of Múspellsheimr were burning in her chest. But maybe, just maybe, the warmth was not all that fearsome anymore.

All warmth fled when she saw Hans Suðeyingr, standing at the front of the church. With clenched fists, she took her place next to him as the priest began his liturgy. “You’re an outlaw, Hans,” she hissed once the sermon had begun. “What in Loki’s name are you doing here?”

Hans gave her a sardonic smile. “I could hardly miss the wedding, could I? I have to say, I didn’t think you’d have it in you. How long have you been letting that thrall boy do you behind my back?” Elsa wondered if God would punish her for stabbing a man to death during Mass. “No matter. Tell me, though, how did he beat me? Did your thrall mother teach you Finn seiðr, or did you fuck a boar for Vanadís?”

“Maybe you’re just not as formidable as you think,” she hissed back.

He only smiled at that, handsome and infuriating as ever. “We’ll see.” Then: “So, which is he? A thrall or an outlaw? If he were an honest man, he wouldn’t have forbidden you to ask his name.” He smirked. “We wouldn’t want people to think your boy toy had beaten me through magic or trickery rather than God’s judgment. Don’t you think he looks a bit Finnish? Ah, no matter. Just remember when you try to wash away his stench—you could have had a king’s son. Pater noster qui es …”

She went through the motions of Mass. Hans left her alone after this, but his words lingered. The stranger—her husband, by day’s end—was a nobody. He might as well be a Finnish sorcerer, though she did not think there was more of her mother’s people in him than in her. He had no allies, no housecarls, no clan that she knew of, nothing but what she brought into the marriage herself. And yet, he had fought like one of the einherjar, and spoke well and gracefully like a jarl’s son. Had his family fallen prey to a blood feud, like her own? Would his enemies come after him? Whatever the case, she had to know. He’ll tell me once we’re alone. He must.

Her groom and the other pagans of the valley awaited them as they left the church, keeping a respectful distance from the churchyard. The stranger, hands and cheek covered in the fresh blood of sacrificial victims, beamed when he saw her, and Elsa’s cheeks warmed. But then, his face fell as Hans stepped from the church behind her, and he hurried towards them. “And here comes your pet,” Hans drawled.

Her champion paid him no mind. “Is he bothering you, Elsa?”

She ground her teeth. “It’s fine. Hans was just leaving.”

Hans gave her groom a pleasant smile, as false as any he had ever shown her. A crowd of spectators, churchgoers and pagans both, had gathered around them. “I merely wanted to congratulate you on the wedding. It is not often a man so young, or so lowly, marries the daughter of a king.”

Her groom’s hand went to his axe. “You call me lowly, níðingr?”

Hans spread his arms as if to address the thing. “I call you a thrall, and a seiðmaðr, who on the holm blunted my axeblade with evil galdrar. You spared him this question before the shield-clash, so now let me ask it before all the people: what is your name, your clan, your rank?”

Part of Elsa felt oddly flattered that the stranger’s eyes immediately shot to her, even as the crowd around them gasped at the allegations. But she could not deny that the question had made her prick up her ears. Would she know her husband’s name after all?

“I need not justify myself to an outlaw and a perjurer,” her groom exclaimed, keeping his eyes on Elsa. She thought she could detect a faint quiver in his voice. “Even were you a king, I would owe you no response. There is but one I must answer. Elsa …” The words died on his lips as he stared at her, pleading.

She could end it all right now. The stranger might have powerful enemies, but she was certain he was nobly born. The judgment of the holmgang would stand. Hans would be still be outlawed, and she would be free of both men, free to—at last—inherit her father’s estate in her own right. The stranger would, no doubt, have to flee his foes, but … she barely knew him. What was he to her? Big, turquoise eyes looked at her, a faint, nervous smile. Warmth rose to her cheeks. She said: “You all saw his good deed and his manly mettle. I trust my—my husband.”

No one had looked at her like that in years, and as Elsa beheld the overwhelming love in his eyes, she felt very strange indeed.

And then, they were wed.

With the ale-horn emptied, the swords exchanged and her bridal crown removed, the revellers had wasted no time in escorting them to the bedchamber in a flurry of bawdy jokes and flirtatious banter. Her husband gave as good as he got, but by the time they were left on their own in the bridal chamber, Elsa was on the brink of panic. This was the part she had been dreading. The bedding—and the liberties some of the men had taken in relieving her of her outer garments—had not helped matters. She sat on the edge of the bed, decorated with flowers and ribbons, hugging herself despite the heat of the hall, her shoulders pulled almost up to her ears. She was dressed only in a wool shift, and felt naked and small.

Her husband closed the door behind the last of the revellers. Then, he sunk against it and exhaled a sigh. “Alone at last,” he muttered, and turned to look at her. “Elsa …” She retreated further into herself, and he sat by her side, carefully keeping a thumb’s distance from her body. “I won’t hurt you,” he whispered. “I won’t let anyone hurt you, ever again.”

“Of course,” she murmured. Quietly, she cursed herself—a sane woman would have counted herself lucky to have a husband so considerate, kind, even. This was simply part of the bargain. A sane woman would have taken Hans up on his offer. “Let’s … let’s get this over with, shall we?” That probably wasn’t what he’d been hoping to hear.

Her husband sighed. “Elsa …” Abruptly, he rose and unclasped the swan broach. His cloak dropped to the floor, and he pulled up his tunic … Elsa pressed her eyes shut. She did not need, nor want, to see this.

Eventually, the rustling of cloth ceased. “Elsa,” her husband said. His voice was low, gentle. With her eyes closed, she let her imagination run away with the sound of her name on his lips. To hear it spoken with such love and affection might have made her giddy with delight if it was not her husband speaking it. “Elsa, look at me, please.”

She forced open her eyes. Then, she gasped. Her husband’s body, naked but for a small silver necklace, was toned, every muscle well-defined. More scars were carved on his flesh like battle-runes than befitted one so young.

It was also, quite obviously, womanly. A pair of small, well-formed breasts speckled in freckles sat on her husband’s … wife’s? … chest, and a thin patch of red hair between … her … legs not only drew attention to what wasn’t there, but also made her body tingle. Instinctively, she pressed her thighs together. Her breath hitched. “You … you’re a …” The word died in her throat. A valkyrie? A seiðmaðr, like Hans had said?

“A woman,” her … spouse replied. “Like you.”  The stranger knelt in front of her, took her hands. Elsa tried not to flinch from the touch, even as it sent shivers down her spine. She’d noticed herself reacting in this way to other women’s bodies before, but never with such intensity. No doubt, the solitude of the bridal chamber and her shock had heightened her emotions.

“Forgive me,” her naked drengr explained. “I’m sorry for the deception. I intended only to protect you, not rob you of a chance at marriage.” She bit her lip. “I understand if you’re alarmed, but I promise that I’m not going to touch you. If you like, we can …”

The words fled her lips unbidden, like an evil curse. “What if I want you to?” She shut her mouth and flushed. So did the stranger. God, what a fool she was—maybe if she played it off as a joke? She opened her mouth to respond …

Once more, her drengr’s lips found hers, and her whole body lit on fire.

“I … I love … ah!”

“You look conflicted.” They lay facing each other, their bodies bare, sore and hot. It had been some time since the flood of their passion had ebbed, and it felt as though a sword’s blade lay between them, as each had suddenly grown hesitant to touch the other.

Her drengr bit her lip at Elsa’s question. “I feel like we’ve made a terrible mistake,” she murmured.

“Maybe. But it was a good mistake.” Once more she noticed the freckle right between her lover’s eyes, which she had so enjoyed kissing.

The other woman remained silent, so Elsa reached across to take her small silver hammer pendant in her hand. Elaborate knotwork decorated Mjǫllnir’s head. She had once owned a similar piece, but it had been reforged into a crucifix after her conversion. “You keep the old gods?”

“As your father did.”

She startled. “You know of my father?”

Her ‘husband’ flushed as though caught in a lie. “I know men who sailed with Sea-King Agnarr Rúnharðsson. They told many tales of his exploits.” She grinned. “And of his beautiful daughter.”

Elsa hid her red face in the pillow. She was clearly teasing, but still. “My father had two daughters,” she muttered, quietly, then looked once more at her lover. What would Anna look like now, had she lived? It was difficult to square the child she remembered with the woman she might have become.

“It’s strange,” she whispered at last. “When I first saw you, it was like waking from a dream. You seemed so familiar. Like I have seen you every night of my life.”

“Elsa, let’s not … let’s not go there.” Somewhat hesitantly, where before there had been only eagerness, her drengr leant in to kiss her, gentle and chaste.

“I don’t even know what to call you.” Hearing her name on her lips always sent shivers down Elsa’s spine. She wished she could repay that. Sitting up, she looked down at her drengr. “Now that I know you’re a woman …”

“No.” The response fell like an axe-blow. More softly, she added: “I cannot tell you who I am. Just … just know that I am no thrall. I am your equal in every respect, and my home is glorious. If King Haraldr himself offered me his crowns, I would rightly scorn them.”

“So what is this?” Flames rose in Elsa’s chest. “Do you just go around the countryside, saving maidens for sport? Is that why you won’t tell me, because you’ll abandon me for your glorious home?”

The drengr jumped up. “Never …”

“Then tell me!” Tears welled in her eyes. Her lover seized her wrists, she struggled. “How can you claim to love me, when you won’t give me even that? How can I trust you’ll stay with me when every day I live in fear?”

“Elsa, please!”

“Tell me!” She freed herself, stumbled backwards, raised her finger at her. “Tell me your name!”

“Stop!”

“Whence you have come!”

“I beg of you!”

“And what is your clan!”

The woman staggered as if struck by a hammer-blow, collapsed on the side of the bed, hid her face. Elsa lowered her outstretched finger. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks.

“Woe,” the drengr whispered, “woe to our bliss.”

Once more, they dragged her out to the thing hill. This time, it was the woman who only yesterday had made her feel like a goddess who stood before King Rúnharðr’s stone. There was nothing but disgust in the eyes of the men around her, disgust for her, the oathbreaker who had asked the forbidden question, even as Elsa stood in the mud and snow unable to look her beloved in the face. “I could refuse Hans,” her drengr said, her voice flat, “but never you.” She closed her eyes. “Hear then how I answer her forbidden question—and hear if I am not as noble as you.”

“In a distant land, far across the swan-field’s roar, there stands a fortress which is ‘Jómsborg’ called. Five score ships lie at anchor in her harbour, and a thousand men feast always in her mead hall, who call themselves Jómsvikingar. Of their number, one in ten goes bear-skinned, one in ten wears the skin of Viðrir’s hounds, and one in a score with boar-skin bristles. Each of their ranks is blooded in the sword-din, and many men to Valhöll they have sent. Those who from Jómsborg go a-viking, who fight in foreign fields for fame and wealth, bring glory to them all.

“Now hear how I honour my wife’s forbidden question: a Jómsvikingr am I, raised from childhood on. My fathers were Brynjulfr Sløngvandbaudi, who killed Fúlnir Ímisson on Orkneyjar, Engill Rúmfari, who died in Grikkland, and Strut-Haraldr, who taught me manly arts of war. But before that, I was sat on the knee of Styrbjǫrn Ólafsson, known as Styrbjǫrn Sterki, who rules as jarl in Jómsborg.

“When I was a child of ten, I was lost in the woods and set upon by three wolves. I grasped a sharp rock with which I slew one and drove off another, but the third would have killed me, had not Styrbjǫrn Sterki found and saved me. He took me to Jómsborg and raised me a Jómsvikingr. I was an orphan girl ere he made me a shieldmaiden, as I am now. My mother’s name was Iðunnr in Finna, who was the freedwoman and wife of my father, King Agnarr Rúnharðsson, but I myself am Anna Agnarrsdóttir called!”

Elsa hung her head, and Anna left.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

“Me neither,” Elsa confessed. Anna grinned at that and pulled her into a deep embrace. Her body was warm, soft, inviting. “But I am here.”

The snow on the holm creaked under their feet as they gathered their things. “You didn’t bring much,” Anna pointed out. “It’s a long journey to Jómsborg.”

Elsa gave her a faint smile. “I had to pack in a hurry. Besides …” she leant in to kiss her—chastely on the cheek, for now. There would be time to renegotiate their new relationship later. “I’ve got my sister back. That’s all I need.”

A cold north wind flew over the holm, tearing through their cloaks, and Elsa shivered. “I ought to have brought more furs,” she said.

Anna smirked at her, and that smirk shone more brightly in the night than Surtr’s sword. “That’s alright,” she said. “I’ll keep you warm.”

[writefinch]

The Prince’s Offering, Pt.3 (cn: noncon, “historical” fiction, harems, public use, forced prostitution, other fun things)

The hollow feeling grew stronger, but Davai willed himself to push it down inside him. He heard a high giggle and looked at the serving girl who had draped herself over Karim's shoulders. "Lord Davai, I am Tabitha. Would you like to know how I became a serving girl?"

He felt himself nod in response. His mouth was unnaturally dry, and when he picked up his tea to wet it the cup almost slipped from the sweat on his hands.

"My father was a wealthy merchant, and our family lived on an estate north of Samarra. He traded spices, curatives, dyes and fine rugs, which afforded him much land and coin, and our estate had beautiful gardens of jasmine and crocus flowers. We lived in luxury, until he allowed his hirelings to water down the medicines that Imperial soldiers bought and used."

"He threw himself at the Imperial magistrate and begged for mercy when they began to investigate. He knew his own death was unavoidable, but wished to spare his family from the same fate. The magistrate was not an unfair man, but a cruel rival of my father's was present in the court and paid some sum of coin to sway his opinion.

A strange, dreamy look crossed Tabitha's face. "To save my siblings and a small fraction of the family's wealth, my mother and father and I were taken in shackles to a brothel where the forty-four soldiers who had been sickened by weak medicine awaited us. My father was forced to watch as the soldiers ravished his eldest daughter, one, two and even three at a time, hour after hour for two days and two nights. My mother serviced each man before and after they violated me, ensuring that they were able to perform, as the soldiers mocked my bound father for his deceit and cowardice. They told him his wife and daughter both were braver than he, and that we were more loyal to both our family and the Great Empire, especially its soldiers.

"My father was beheaded after this, and my mother and I were sold into slavery to keep my siblings out of the most wretched poverty. I was sold to a harem, trained for a year in every art of pleasure, and sent here. I have not seen my mother since, and I do not expect I will ever see her again." She giggled again, before sitting back on her heels, resuming Karim's shoulder rub.

Davai sat in stunned shock for a moment, questions and thoughts of horror spawning within him and threatening to spill out. He knew of the depraved justice that heathen rulers could mete out, but had never heard it directly from the spoils of these rulings. He found her very demeanor chilling, for she spoke of such things as a knight might speak of his first year of squiredom. It raised the question of whether subsequent events had been so unpleasant that her capture seemed favourable in comparison, or if her trials had molded her so thoroughly that she had become content with her lot. He was unsure which answer was worse, and felt more perturbed by the moment.

What perturbed him further was the sensation of his stiff cock straining against his stockings. His heart thumped and his mouth felt drier still, and he wondered if the subtle incense pervading the room had some form of exciting effect. He sipped his tea again, subtly pulling the hem of his tunic over his lap as he did.

"Might I ask your thoughts on that?" said Karim.

Davai nodded, and considered his answer very carefully. "It seems a dire punishment," he said, "but the crime, too, was a dire indeed. One wonders how many others would attempt such things if they went unpunished, and some men do not fear death alone."

Karim nodded, seemingly satisfied with this response, and the girl behind Thom spoke up.

"Lord Davai, would you care to know how I became a serving girl?"

Against his better instincts, Davai nodded. The girl stepped forward to sit closer, allowing him to see her properly. She had removed her thin veil and she was beautiful indeed, of Far Eastern stock, her cheeks as red as blood and her skin as white as snow. Her jewelry was bizarrely intricate. Her left arm was clad in a series of silver chains, bracelets, plates and rings that fitted together into a complex metal gauntlet, and under her gauzy top her nipples were clearly pierced.

"My name is Mido, lord, and before I became a serving girl I lived in a city of the Old Eastern Kingdoms before the Great Empire swept them away. The rulers of the city were uncaring and indolent, and rather than pay tribute they had the emissaries beaten and sent away. When the forces of the Emperor surrounded the city, the nobles refused to negotiate. They sealed the gates and dug in for a siege.

"All the food in the city was confiscated and rationed. The punishment for hiding food was death by ice, and the punishment for stealing food was far worse. All of the administrators were corrupt, exchanging food for favour, and in the first winter of the siege many citizens starved. My father was a tailor and his services were well enough needed that we ate on most days, but in the spring he took ill.

"The only food inside the city was reserved for the nobles and their soldiers, so I looked outside. At night I snuck out of the city, stole a hen and her eggs from the Imperial camp, and crept back in. It kept my father alive, and so a few nights later, I did it again. I was more cautious this time; I took scraps and grains and picked wild berries in the dark. I did it a third and a fifth time, and my father soon recovered. On the sixth trip, I was caught.

"The men beat me until I fell, and then beat me until I could not stand. The next morning they displayed me. First, I was stripped naked. My legs were tied at the thighs and ankles to a beam of wood, stretching them out to the side until it felt as if they would pop out of my hips. A beam was placed down my back with my wrists bound behind it, the two beams were fixed together in a cross, and then my captors coated two thick, polished wooden poles in grease.

"They forced one pole inside my womanhood and the other in my rear, and when I screamed from the pain of being split open in such a way, the soldiers urinated in my open mouth. They coated my body in filth and pig-slop, then raised me up on a gigantic wooden ladder that came level to the city walls. I was left for the day like this, alongside a dozen other girls who had been sneaking out in the same manner as I, in front of a banner that told the citizens that their defeat was inevitable, that betrayal and surrender were the only options, and that if their demands were not met, the same fate awaited every woman in the city.

"I saw my father standing on the city walls, looking at me. The shame was too much, and he died of heartbreak. Soon after that the city fell, with most citizens faring better than I, but all of the nobles faring much worse." She looked contemplative, and in the dull light of the parlour her brown eyes were entirely black. "The Imperial army had no use for me after that, and while I was forced to warm the bedrolls of horsemen for some time, they soon sold me on. From there, my story is little different to Tabitha's."

The music of the flute had softened, and Davai could hear the groaning of the wind behind it. In his mind, he could picture nothing but the image of Mido with her legs spread wide as rough men forced a pole inside her, her face contorting in pain. He did not know why his cock was twitching.

"Thank you, Mido," he murmured. Karim was looking at him expectantly. "This... siege warfare is a dark thing, and we know this all too well in Rus and Europe. It does not lend itself to mercy or glory."

Karim nodded. "It is an art that the Great Empire has refined in recent years. A siege that ends quickly and terrifyingly is far preferable to one that draws on for months and leaves a city of walking skeletons in its wake. Not to mention, a city that knows that it cannot resist a siege does not, generally, risk provoking one."

A voice whispered in his ear. "I too have a tale should you wish to hear it, Lord Davai," said Bahar.

His heart pounding, Davai could only nod. He did not flinch as she moved around him, but suppressed a yelp as the serving girl took a seat on his lap. Her buttocks were soft and thick, and she had perched herself just-so that his erection was pressed between them. She wore a subtle perfume but with his face all but nestled in her black hair it filled his nose and clouded his senses. He did not know where to put his hands and so pressed his palms awkwardly onto the cushion until Bahar took his wrists and moved his hands onto her soft belly so that he could hold her from behind.

"My tale is a rather more simple one, lord," she said, wiggling from side to side to get comfortable. "My father was a prince, and when my mother passed he remarried. Neither my father nor my stepmother wished me to have any role in either inheritance or succession, so one night I was dragged from my bed, bound and gagged with rough ropes, and locked inside a chest.

"When the chest was opened, I found myself in the barracks of Imperial soldiers. In lieu of spices and a portion of silver, I had been given over to the Great Empire as part of the yearly tithe. Had my father kept back a fraction more silver for himself, I would have been kept virginial and taken as a wife by an Imperial officer, as that would have been the most valuable use of a young foreign princess. But out of cruelty, they tithed extra, and so the Imperial soldiers did not need my full value."

Bahar kept shifting in her seat in a way that made Davai's cheeks turn pink, for each movement sent a twinge of pleasure through his rod. It crossed his mind that she might be doing it on purpose.

"They took this spare value by using me as a pleasure toy for several months," she continued. "The soldiers drew lots each night to pick whose bed I would warm. I was fed no meals; when they ate I would crawl under the tables and give suck to each man in turn, and if I pleased them they would feed me scraps before I was dragged to the next man. They made a game of how many men could take pleasure from me at once."

She turned around, hair whipping gently over Davai's nose, and looked him square in the eye. "Seven men. Two in my mouth, one in each hand, one in my rear, and two in my cunt."

"Sounds uncomfortable," said Thom, loudly.

Davai glared at him. "Obviously."

"I meant for the men."

Bahar had a faraway look on her face. "Sometimes they would use me as a threat, to shake down local peddlers or to motivate their prostitutes if they went whoring. They would tie me to a stool, gag me with my headscarf after using it as a washcloth, and then a dozen of them would each line up to spill their seed on my face. Whoever they wished to bully would be brought in to see me, and the soldiers would tell them, 'Do as we say, or we will do this to your wives and daughters, or to you.'

"The worst part of that was the boredom, waiting in place on an uncomfortable seat with sticky male essence drying on my face. I still find it difficult to sit comfortably to this day," she said, bearing down on Davai's lap until he felt his cock pressed against something snug and mind-meltingly hot. "It ended in a familiar manner: the soldiers needed coin and so they sold me on. I did not need much training after the hands-on experience they had given me, and becoming a serving girl was a natural fit."

She gave Davai a warm smile, and Davai could only mumble out a thank you. She dismounted his lap with leonine grace, but instead of slinking back behind him, she waited at his side. Her hand remained on his lap. Specifically, her hand remained directly on his stiff cock.

"Oh, Master Karim," said Bahar, her voice soft and guileless, "I believe Lord Davai has felt the effects of our tea!"

Davai tensed up. "What's in the tea?" he said, with no consideration to the impudence of his question. He felt sweat beading on his forehead, his hands were shaking, and his cock was so hard that it tingled with pain.

Karim was unbothered by his tone, and seemed genuinely apologetic. "It is not what is in the tea, but what tea is in it. It is a peculiar blend of leaves that can be concentrated to produce an invigorating tincture, and the dilute tea can induce a similar strength in those unused to it. I am deeply sorry for not informing you beforehand, Lord Davai."

"What do I do?" he blurted out, before blushing at the implication.

"I have a few ideas," grunted Thom, but the other men ignored him. He scowled, then scooped Mido up and onto his lap, which elicited a squeak before she began to nuzzle and rub up against him.

"It will pass soon," Karim told the young lord, "and some wine will speed its passing greatly. Fareeh, summon the cup-bearer would you?"

"Yes, Master," said one of the serving girls.

At the edges of Davai's vision black fuzz grew, shifting out of view when he looked towards it, and persisted until he scrunched shut and opened his eyes. The light of the blue torches flickered in a queer manner, the warmth of the room was stifling, and the low wail of the wind had an almost animalistic edge to it, masked though it was by the flutist's music. He could feel the linen of his tunic clinging to the small of his back from sweat, and wished he could cast it off entirely. He inhaled deeply and tried to calm himself: he had known to be distrustful of his host and his companion, but it was another matter to be distrustful of his own senses.

"If my lord has become agitated, I suggest these cloyingly maudlin tales are the cause. Does every girl in your retinue have such a woefully woeful yarn to weave?" asked Thom, sneering. He pointed to the serving girl Pasha, who sat playing her flute. "Did the Imperials pin down your music girl and stuff her gash and arse with her own instruments?"

Davai's eyes went wide at his companion's near-suicidal rudeness, but when Karim and the serving girls burst out laughing he remembered a detail of Imperial custom: the power of insulting remark was proportional to the stature of the remarker. Thom had no land, no great fortune, and no title that was not a pejorative, and hence was incapable of any insult that fell short of treason.

"If such things found their way into my gash and arse, they were put there of my own accord," replied Pasha. "You know how it is I'm sure, you seem the sort who'd misplace his own tools of trade up his arse if given the chance to do so."

Karim laughed uproariously at this, and even in his state Davai couldn't suppress a small smile. Thom's sneer froze in place, but quickly passed into a smug grin. "So what happened to you then, serving girl?"

She placed down her flute, the sounds of wind sharpening as she did, and said, "When I was one less a score in age, I performed with a playing company in the borderlands of the Near and Far East. Many of our homes had been destroyed by the Great Empire, and we acted many plays detailing the depravity of their deeds and the enormity of their conquests so that all might know this horde of men as the monsters they truly were. One fateful night, an Imperial spy caught wind of our performances..."

Davai grimaced. He knew of a pair of troubadours who had sung slanderous tunes about the Prince of Kiev up and down the land before the prince's men arrested them. A thick tome had been written on the hundred tortures used on the two men and the new songs that were wrought from them, and it was bound with their flayed skin.

"They reacted poorly, I take it?" he said quietly.

Pasha shook her head, beaming. "Not at all, indeed the opposite! They saw our plays as a true and honest reflection of their prowess, and they paid us a handsome stipend to travel out to unconquered lands as harbingers of their terror."

Davai blinked. "You are... no longer with them?"

"We traveled far and wide, and I had a great many adventures with my troupe, but after a year in these parts I grew fond of these Western lands—the coolness of the air, the gentle rains, the crisp apples and the strong black bread." Her expression was one of genuine contentment. "At the same time, I grew tired of the constant travel. I made enquiries, and I joined Master Karim's harem. The conditions are luxurious, and the work is very similar."

"I will admit, the similarities are not wholly apparent to me," said Davai distantly, watching from the corner of his eye as Thom licked Mido's neck and mauled her breasts with his thick, hairy fingers. Pasha laughed, smiling.

"A performer can earn a modest wage through spectacular plays in front of swollen audiences, and a very immodest wage through harlotry with the wealthiest attendees. I assure you, lord, my wage was not a modest one." Her smile turned sultry, and she returned to her flute.

The men listened to the music and were pampered by the girls for a while, talking on topics of little consequence, before Davai asked a question that had been weighing on his mind.

"Sir Karim, I must apologize in advance for revealing my ignorance of Imperial customs, but there is something I do not understand," he said.

"Oh, lord?"

"When we spoke earlier of Justyna," said Davai, averting his eyes from the bound and defeated peasant girl, "you told me that when she is gifted to you, you must receive her as a slave, with all the harshness of training that such a thing requires."

Karim nodded. "Yes, this is correct."

"And when Pasha spoke, she said that she was never taken as a slave or prisoner, and is not a slave or prisoner now. Your harem girls are not all slaves."

"This is correct also."

"Then I am confused and curious: why are you compelled to receive Justyna as a slave, if those who are not slaves may also be serving girls?"

"Assuming, Lord Davai, that you still wish to gift her to us."

"Which the Houses of the Amber Plains do wish to do, yes."

Karim leaned forward, stroked his mustache absentmindedly, and then tented his fingers with a thoughtful expression on his face. "That is a fair question, and a good one," he said. "I believe I can answer it: the circumstance of a girl's joining of the harem must determine the circumstances of her living within it.

"Picture three sowers in a field, one a freeman, one a serf, and one a slave. Their function in the field is identical. A corn of wheat scattered in the furrows by a slave grows all the same as one scattered by a serf, a weed pulled by a serf is no different to a weed pulled by a freeman, and a bushel cut by a freeman weighs no more and no less than the same bushel cut by a slave.

"But their function they each serve to society is quite different. The freeman works to pay taxes to his king, the serf works to benefit his lord, and the slave works to obey. Their reasons for work differ, and hence as lords and masters, the inducements to work must differ with them. Tell me, Lord Davai, if one required a task to be seen to and wished a freeman to do it, how would one motivate him to do so?"

Davai considered the question a moment, then said, "At the base level I would offer coin at the proper rate, but beyond that, a freeman has a chosen vocation which they take pride in and see their craft as a form of virtue. The coin brings the work, but their duty to craft brings the effort, and hence you must appeal to these virtues."

"A fine answer that I am inclined to agree with," said Karim, "for I have seen nobles forget such things and reap the consequences. Permit me a second question: how would you motivate a serf to work?"

This question required far less consideration. "In the simplest form, a lord provides protection in exchange for the serf's work on his land. But if such a relationship is to thrive it must go beyond mere expedience, it must be built from fealty and obligation. The serf must love his lord to be willing to toil his land, to bring the greatest tithes and to be an attentive steward, and yet the lord must also love his serfs to be willing to lay down his life and the life of his knights to protect them from banditry and invasion. In other words, you must appeal to the faith and fealty of a serf."

"That is a straightforward answer, yes." Karim grinned devilishly. "And a slave?"

Davai turned up his palms. "It is not a common institution in these lands, though if you know the answer I would be interested to hear it."

"A slave is given life, and gives obedience," said Karim. "He is forced to work by the prospect of a continued existence: of another meal, another drink of water, and another night's rest, as well as by the pain of the lash. But it is a different matter to work than to obey, and an unruly slave may break his tools and skirt his tasks.

"A slave, then, must know terror. Not the simple fear of the whip's bite, but terror of its inevitability. The master must observe him constantly for some time and ensure that no infraction goes unpunished and no mercy is given. The slave must learn that his master knows his every move and error just the same as Allah knows his every sin and virtue, and indeed the two figures should blend together in his mind. Fear will make a slave work, but only awe will make him obey."

For a moment Davai felt paralysed by the intensity of the man's eyes, but he quickly composed himself. "And if you were to treat a freeman as a serf, or a serf as a freeman, you would squander the best qualities of each and reinforce their worst vices."

"A most adroit assessment, yes."

"And because Justyna has not come here to volunteer willingly and wholeheartedly, she must be treated as one who is entirely recalcitrant."

There was a hint of weariness in Karim's eyes. "Yes, unfortunately. The results of any other method are not preferable to any party, not even to Justyna in the end."

Davai nodded. "I thank you for your insight, Sir Karim."

There was another lull in the conversation. Pasha exchanged her flute for a miniature harp, and in the moments of silence between instruments, Davai felt an oppressive sensation from the room around him, the part of an unsettling dream before you realize you're not awake. The air felt thick in his mouth, the blue torches flickered slickly as their smoke rose up towards the vents, and something seemed subtly off about the way every object in the room looked and moved as if all of reality had become smooth and glassy. On the dais in the background the chair was a bestial skeleton and under the dim light the cast-iron dogs twitched like golems rising from their slumber.

He very much doubted that some lustful excitation was the only symptom of the strange tea, and he doubted that the promised wine would be a simple curative. Bahar's hands traced over his chest and thighs and felt like the sole thing anchoring him to his senses. A deep drive to clutch her like a child at their mother welled within him, but even in his state he was unwilling to abandon his decorum. The music soon returned. soothing something within him, and with a few deep breaths the room largely returned to normal.

A husky, feminine voice made him give a start. "Your wine, Master."

Davai turned to the source of the voice and stared.

This serving girl was waifish in comparison to the other, more voluptuous women that lounged around the parlour, with bony shoulders and slender hips, and probably stood a few inches shorter than Davai. She wore no veil and no gown, her top was a sheer chiffon mantle that barely fell over her shoulders and her skirt was a sash barely a hand's width in length. She had a short, boyish bob of auburn hair, her lips were painted a garish red, her eyelids thick with kohl, and her face carried a slack, euphoric affect that came only from rapturous pleasure or powerful narcotics.

She carried a tray carved from walnut and inlaid with gold, and on that tray were four silver goblets and a quarter-gallon jug of wine. The girl did not carry the tray in her hands, however, which were behind her back. The back of the tray was strapped to a leather belt that wrapped around her skinny stomach, and the front of the tray was suspended by a pair of silver chains sloping down at an angle, like the chains on a drawbridge. Both of these chains connected to thick, heavy piercings that went through the girl's bare nipples.

"Ah, Ihsan, thank you," said Karim as the girl knelt by his side. He tousled her hair, eliciting a delighted squeak as she placed the four goblets on the table. Despite her unfocused eyes and dazed expression she filled up each cup with deep, dark wine without spilling a drop. She placed the jug in the center of the table, detached the serving tray from her nipples to place aside, and sat cross-legged by Karim to provide refills as required. Thom stopped nipping at his serving girl's neck just long enough to notice the wine, and the girl who had poured it. He bumped Mido off his lap and leered at the wine girl.

"I met this one last time did I not, Sir Karim."

"You did indeed sirrah, when she was barely a season into her training. I am sure you can see some changes, and if they are not immediately apparent I'd be delighted for you to inspect her further."

"Well then little Ihsan, let's have a look at you," he growled lecherously, beckoning her forward. A look of genuine worry flickered over her face but passed as she stood up. She yelped when Thom grabbed her slender wrist and began groping and squeezing her.

He made crude remarks about her every feature as inspected her. "Her skin is softer... Bit slimmer on the tummy... By God I might take a bite out of these buttocks... Open your mouth, girl," he ordered, and when she complied he stuck two fingers in her mouth to grab the silver stud in her tongue. She whimpered softly, sticking out her tongue as far as she could to avoid hurting herself. "Oh, now this is new," he murmured. "Do you remember the things you did with your tongue the last time we met? Do you?" He tugged on her piercing to hurry her answer.

"Y-yeth!" she replied, her voice shaking.

Davai watched with contempt and not a little disgust as his companion examined the poor wench like a cow at market. He wished to order him to restrain his base lust, but Karim was watching the whole display with delighted amusement and the liberties that Thom was taking were ones explicitly offered up by him. To hold Thom back would be no different than rejecting Karim's hospitality if not worse, for it would imply gross impropriety on their host's part, so he resigned himself to watching out of the corner of his eye, and sipped the wine. It was rich in flavour and in spirit; he'd drank brandies with less kick than this wine, but the heady vapours of the alcohol dissolved the edges of his anxieties at least.

"What else, what else... Udders filling out nicely, ooh, I love the reins," Thom said, tugging the chains leading to the thick piercings through her nipples, eliciting a moan that could have been pain or pleasure. "Smells good, tastes good—" he took a heady lick of her neck, "—now lets see that cunt of yours."

He reached out to pick up a small clay flask of olive oil from the table, spilled it over his fingers with not a little dripping onto the unthinkably expensive rugs below, and slipped his hand under Ihsan's bottom. She squeaked and threw her head back as his thick fingers probed her crack, pressing her skinny back against his chest, her nipple-chains rattling as she took halting, shuddering breaths.

"Open up your legs and let me in," Thom growled softly. Ihsan did so, opening her knees, spreading her skinny thighs wide, and pushing out her hips.

A glint between her legs caught Davai's eye, an intricate decoration made from thick golden wire. He stared for a moment, and his mouth fell open as he realized what the finely-wrought device was: not jewellery but a cage, a cage that fit around a small pair of testicles and an equally diminutive cock, preventing its wearer from becoming hard.

"Ihsan is a man!" he blurted out.

He felt many sets of eyes on him. Sir Karim and Thom the Brigand appeared confused, and Ihsan was plainly uncomfortable. The other serving girls were staring at him too, and the pair of hands that had been pleasantly massaging him had stopped. He felt a tightness in his chest, and something sharp and icy deeper within him.

Thom and Karim burst out laughing, and laughed uproariously for some time. Several of the serving girls tittered softly before returning to their activities, and Davai felt the pair of hands resume stroking his chest once more. Ihsan had closed their eyes, and was trying to push their ass down onto Thom's fingers. The panic faded, but the confusion and vague sense of dread remained.

"I—Pardon my, I did not wish—" he stuttered.

"I assure you that Ihsan is not a man of any kind," said Karim, grinning.

Davai couldn't stop himself from looking directly at Ihsan's cock, bound up in a golden coil. "But there's an, uh..."

Thom scoffed loudly. "If I met a traveler on the road with this little maiden's chime between their legs," he said, slapping Ihsan's cage and eliciting a pained yelp, "and they claimed that a pathetic endowment such as this gave them claim to manhood, I'd bugger them until they admitted otherwise and sell them on to Karim."

Such callous cruelty and open sodomy turned Davai's stomach, and against his better judgement he turned to his host for counsel. His heart thumped in his throat and his cheeks burned red as he spoke.

"I apologise for," he gave a start, "for my, ah, awkwardness. Sodomy is not a custom I am overly familiar with, and I have been taught by the church that such things are dire sins. You have my most solemn word that I do not intend to cause offence."

Karim waved him off, and did not appear upset in the slightest. "Permit me another question, Lord Davai: sodomy is a sin because it is gravely wrong to lie with another man as one would a woman. It is a grave wrong because we owe our fellow man some degree of respect and dignity, and to push a man to the floor and fuck your seed into him as if he were a mere concubine injures him and degrades you. Is this what you have been taught?"

Davai nodded. "That is the rough shape of it, yes."

"But what makes a man, Lord Davai? A man fights and conquers, a man thinks and creates philosophy from aether, a man shows loyalty to his leader and to those men he leads, a man has strength, a man has honour, and if a man is owed respect and dignity it is on account of his honour, and honour depends on one's ability to defend and uphold it."

Two thick fingers slipped inside Ihsan's ass, and as she babbled with pleasure a line of clear fluid drizzled from the tip of her cock to pool on the corner of the table.

"You see, Lord Davai, it is not easy to truly be a man in the eyes of Allah," Karim said matter-of-factly, "but just about any pretty thing can be turned into a serving girl."

"I do not imagine that a man as tall and broad as you would have to worry unduly about such a fate," said Davai wryly.

Karim gave a sly grin. "Do not be so sure, lord, for I know of men who prefer their serving girls to tower over guests. It is true that I have never feared such a fate befalling me. I do not need to worry, for the same reason a lord like you does not need to fear it."

Something in his tone gave Davai a burst of curiosity. "Oh?"

"What separates the slave from a truly free man, Lord Davai?"

"I would say shackles and the sharp end of a spear," said Davai, "but again, it is a custom I am not intimately familiar with."

Karim grinned broadly at him and swigged his wine. "Your unfamiliarity shows, Lord, for the difference is simple: a free man has honour, shown through his willingness to defend what is his, and a slave has none. Some men appear free but are no more than masterless slaves, and would submit to the first soldier to put a boot on his neck."

Davai steepled his slender fingers. "I can see how lack of honour would make one a slave, but I cannot yet fathom how a store of honour would prevent it."

"Because an honourable man cannot submit to slavery; he will resist until he dies or overpowers his captor."

Davai sucked air in through his teeth. "That's a dear proof indeed."

"Yes, and a man's honour is a dear claim." He lowered his empty goblet to the table, where it was immediately refilled by Tabitha. "It is not so different to this land's own feudal arrangement if you consider it: your serfs do not possess the honour of a noble house, so they willingly pledge fealty to those who will fight and die to protect the land. In the eye of my people, noble blood is only important insofar that it predicts noble honour. Your Western societies are stable because true nobles will choose death over submission."

Davai did not consider himself a man of unparalleled bravery, and knew many nobles who were far more cowardly than he. "A system that runs on such honour is most stable when it is never tested."

“And yet an unproven system atrophies from lack of testing until one strong attempt can push it down entirely; such is the fate that befell the Kingdoms of the Far East and the Caliphates of the Near East.”

Davai nodded and recalled the handful skirmishes he had been party to, despite being nobody's picture of a fighting man. "In Rus and across all of Europe we are sometimes too eager to prove such things, I fear."

Karim nodded in assent, and around the table they returned to drinking—excepting Thom—until the first jug of wine was depleted. Mido put the goblets aside and refilled the teacups, falling onto Davai's lap with blatant premeditation. She apologised profusely to Davai, and turned to Karim."Master, Lord Davai is still suffering from the tea," she said, pouting.

"It is quite alright, I do not—"

"May we extend him the hospitality of relieving his tension?"

Karim turned to Davai, grinning widely. "Of course, my dear girl. Tabitha, attend to me in the same manner if you would.”

From behind, Bahar slipped her hands under and up the front of his tunic and hooked her heels over his crossed legs, parting them slightly. She kissed his neck as her soft fingers caressed his nipples, her jewellery cool against his skin, and before he could say a word Mido was in front of him. He looked into her eyes for a moment, so black and yet so gentle, and she pressed her lips to his. The kiss was a brief one, the taste of rosewater and fresh mint lingering on as she made her way down his chest. His heart thrummed in his throat as her hands reached his stockings.

"D-don't—oh!" His protest dissolved into a weak moan as Bahar nibbled his ear, and it was a protest so bereft of conviction that both girls freely ignored it.

Mido pulled down both his stockings and the linen braies under them, freeing his stiff cock. Davai's stomach curdled with embarrassment, as he had last performed a cursory wash with campfire water and damp rags two days ago and had not bathed properly since he had left his estate. His small thatch of pale blonde pubic hair was matted with sweat and he caught hint of his own musky scent through the incense, but it did not seem to bother Mido, who curled her gauntlet-clad hand around the shaft. It had been a long time since Davai had felt any touch there but his own. His toes curled, and he inhaled sharply.

Without breaking eye contact with him for a moment, Mido lowered her head, planted her lips at the base of his cock, and touched her tongue to the shaft. She dragged her tongue up slowly, leaving a generous coating of saliva on his skin as he twitched and fidgeted, her breath oh-so-warm on every inch of him, moment by moment, until she reached the very tip. With her tongue stuck out, Davai could see she had a similar tongue piercing to Ihsan the wine girl.

She closed her eyes and swallowed his entire length.

Davai cried out softly, and as he did Bahar pinched his nipples and bit down on his neck, turning his cry into a squeak. His hands grabbed at the fabric of the cushion, his hips jolted forwards, and if not for the serving girl holding him tightly from behind he would have fallen backwards. He looked down and saw a pool of soft black hair in his lap hiding Mido's face entirely. He didn't need to see her face to feel her nose nestled in his pubic hair and her tongue sticking out past her bottom lip, lapping at his balls.

"Do not be anxious, Lord," whispered Bahar in his ear. "Mido's talents are unparalleled and only available to a select few, so please, enjoy them. You are in good hands, and mouths."

He could think of nothing to say in response, and looked on dumbly as Mido rose up, her warm, wet mouth rising up his shaft with her lips wrapped tight around him, until only the tip remained inside. She looked up at him, brushing hair out of her face with one hand as her other pumped up-and-down his cock. Her studded tongue slipped under his foreskin and swirled around the head. Davai felt as if all the bones in his body had momentarily turned to aspic, and before he could release another girlish moan, she swallowed his entire length again...

Part 4 here: https://writefinch.tumblr.com/post/642674526881284096/the-princes-offering-pt4

[animezing-fandoms]

The Baby Race Chapter 5: Gray and Juvia’s Wedding

Masterlist

Warnings: Some implied smut. 

Relationships: Gruvia, Nalu, Gajevy, Jerza.

Summary: It’s Gray and Juvia’s Wedding Day! And it’s full of love and other surprises too! 

A/N: I'm sorry this was so late! I got caught up doing other stuff and forgot about this series for three months! But I'm hoping this chapter will be good enough to make up for it's lateness!

--------------

Natsu groans as sunlight hits his face in the morning. He felt something was off and he turned on his side and noticed that Lucy was missing. He got up out of bed, wearing nothing but his black boxer briefs and made his way downstairs to find Lucy cooking in the kitchen. Her hair was up in a bun and she was wearing one of his short sleeve t-shirts. Natsu quietly came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She tenses a bit in surprise, but she quickly remembers that it's him and calms down, relaxing in his hold and leaning against his bare chest.

"Good morning Lucy." He mumbles into her hair.

"Good morning Natsu." Lucy replies softly. "Did the smell of breakfast wake you up?"

"Actually it wasn't the smell of food but the absence of yours that woke me up." Natsu says.

Lucy blushes before Natsu looks over her shoulder to see what she's making.

"So why are you making pancakes so early in the morning?" Natsu asks.

"Because today is a big day remember?" Lucy reminds him.

"It is?" Natsu asks. "I don't remember having anything big planned for us today."

Lucy giggles from Natsu's ignorance.

"You were at Gray's bachelor party last night you big dummy! You should know what's going on today!" Lucy cheerfully reminds him.

Natsu looks stumped for a minute but then his face lights up when he remembers.

"Oh! It's Gray and Juvia's wedding today!" Natsu exclaims.

"Yep! And since I have some extra cash now that I don't have to pay rent anymore, I can spend as much as I want on food for the three of us." Lucy explains.

Natsu gasps softly and he gets a serious look on his face. He ran his hands along Lucy's lower-belly.

"Three of us?" He asks.

"Yeah..." Lucy says, confused by his tone and she looks over his shoulder to look at his face. "You, me, and Happy." She clarifies.

"Oh!" Natsu says and scratches the back of his head. "Right. I forgot about him for a second."

Lucy arches an eyebrow and returns to flipping the pancakes.

"I hope you can pull your head out of the clouds soon. Right after breakfast we need to go help Gray and Juvia get ready." Lucy reminds him.

"If I pull my head out of the clouds can I put it in-between your legs?" Natsu asks.

Lucy gasps and almost drops her spatula from Natsu's dirty comment.

"Natsu!" She exclaims and gasps when she feels Natsu's hands against her skin under her shirt.

"N-Natsu, w-we don't...have time." She breathlessly protests as Natu's hands started to get grabby.

"I can make it quick." He mumbles against her neck where he left her tender kisses.

"But then we'll burn breakfast." Lucy giggles.

"I can still eat it if it's burnt." Natsu reminds her.

Lucy was about to protest but then his mouth found that sensitive spot on her neck and she caved.

"Fine. You win you lustful animal, now make it quick." She moans.

--------------

After the little escapade that morning Lucy was in her blue bridesmaid gown with the other Fairy Tail ladies helping Juvia get ready for the ceremony.

Erza, the maid of honor, took her role seriously and made sure that everything was perfect down to the last detail. That's why Juvia picked Erza for this role, she wanted this day that she's been dreaming of since she met Gray to be perfect and Erza would definitely make sure of that. While Juvia stood on the fitting stage in her wedding gown, Erza was checking every flower pot in the room and making sure Juvia's dress was free of any tears or blemishes.

Juvia stood on the fitting stage in a long, white, strapless gown with matching white sleeves that went up to her mid-upper arm, lining up with edge of the bodice that pushed up her already ample bosom a bit more, making her cleavage more defined than it already was. The bodice was patterned with sparkling snowflakes that framed the edges of it as well before the pattern turned into raindrops that ran along the length of the skirt. The sleeves were decorated in the same pattern, snowflakes bleeding into raindrops. And to tie it altogether, Juvia wore a tiara with raindrop-shaped gems in it and Levy held a veil that had sparkling snowflakes as well.

"Levy, I've diverted some of your tasks for the wedding today for Lucy." Erza informs her. "You're due to have the twins any day now and I wouldn't want you doing anything strenuous that could trigger your labor."

"Don't worry Erza. When these two birds are ready to leave the nest I'll definitely know." Levy assures her before going up onto the fitting stage to give Juvia her veil.

"You know, Juvia I was worried that as today got closer and closer that you'd get more stressed and nervous but instead it seems like the opposite has happened. It's like you've been glowing brighter and brighter these past few weeks." Levy comments as she places the veil on Juvia's head.

"Yes, Juvia has felt different lately." She says and smiles at the ground in thought.

"Do you think Gray-sama will find Juvia pretty?" Juvia asks.

"Do you even have to ask Juvia?" Cana slurs before taking another long swig of alcohol from her flask.

The other bridesmaids frowned. They were certain that they had taken Cana's flask away from her before coming into the dressing room.

"Look at you girl! You're gorgeous! If anything Gray's gonna get a huge boner as soon as he sees you! In fact, all of the guys at the ceremony probably will too! Even the Priest!" Cana jokes.

"Oh no!" Juvia exclaims. "Juvia does not want Gray-sama getting an erection for her in front of the whole guild!"

"I mean it's not like he hasn't already-" Cana starts before the other girls shush her.

"Juvia you're just nervous about the ceremony and that anxiety is putting crazy thoughts in your head." Lucy says. "Don't worry about a thing. Gray's going to think you're beautiful and the ceremony's going to go off without a hitch I promise!"

"Well then if you're sure nothing can go wrong, then Juvia is ready to become Gray-sama's wife!" Juvia declares.

----------------

Inside the sanctuary, all of the Fairy Tail guild members were seated in their assigned rows and Gray and his groomsmen stood at the altar with the priest. Juvia would be coming through those big double doors any minute now and Gray was nervous as hell. The sound of his foot tapping against the marble floor echoed throughout the walls and it was starting to piss Natsu off.

"Hey will you quit it with the tap dancing already ice princess? It's really starting to get on my nerves!" Natsu scolds him.

"Get on your nerves? How do you think my nerves feel? I'm about to bare my soul to the woman I love in front of all of our friends and family! So forgive me for being a little tense!" Gray barks back.

"Really? That's what scares ya? I thought you'd be more worried about stripping in front of everyone by accident." Natsu teases.

"I would be if you didn't take care of that problem for me." Gray reminds them. "How did you do that by the way?"

"I lined the inside of your tux with double sided tape." Happy says and holds up a roll as he floats overhead. "There's no way you'll be able to take it off now that it's stuck to your skin!"

"Well yeah that's helpful for now but how am I supposed to take it off for my wedding night?" Gray asks and Happy sulks.

"Whoops. Natsu and I didn't think of that." Happy says sheepishly.

"You imbeciles!" Gray scolds them.

"That's enough you two." Lyon says. "The bride will be coming any minute, and I doubt she'll want to walk down the aisle to the sound of you two arguing."

"What the hell are you even doing here anyway Lyon?" Natsu asks. "Did you come here for one last chance to steal Juvia away from Gray?"

"Oh I wouldn't dream of it." Lyon says. "That would be horribly rude to my dear friend Gray, especially since I am his best man."

Natsu scoffs.

"You ain't the best man here! I could take you down in three punches right now if I wasn't so terrified of what Erza said she would do to me if I wrecked this place before the wedding." Natsu says and shivers.

"Natsu that's not what it means." Gray says. "The best man is a role the groom assigns someone for their wedding. The best man is the one who gives a speech about the groom at the reception and he organizes the bachelor party and helps me out in any other way I need it."

"Ew that sounds like a lot of work all for nothing." Natsu complains.

"It's not all for nothing. Marriage is a very important and special milestone for a couple. This ceremony represents Gray and Juvia's undying love for each other, and how they are pledging themselves to each other for life in front of all of their friends and family, so that we can all celebrate in the joy that is true love together. Once this ceremony commences you'll see that for yourself." Lyon explains.

Natsu frowns in thought before the organ starts playing and everyone stands and faces the large double doors that were opening.

Wendy enters first, wearing her cute blue flower girl dress, and she tosses rose petals down the aisle as she makes her way towards the alter.

Then the bridesmaids enter and Natsu, Gajeel and Jellal blush when they see how pretty their girls look in their bridesmaid dresses.

But the gasp of awe was audible when Juvia enters through the doors. Everyone was taken aback in awe of how beautiful she looked. Gray was frozen where he stood, unable to take his eyes off of her as Gajeel took her hand and walked her down the aisle.

Originally it was supposed to be Makarov who would hand Juvia off to Gray. But Juvia requested that it be Gajeel instead since she's known him the longest out of anyone in Fairy Tail and he was like a big brother to her.

When Juvia finally reaches the alter, Gray's hand was shaking as he held it out for Gajeel to place Juvia's into. He couldn't believe how radiantly beautiful she looked right now. She was like an ice goddess, and she was about to become his wife.

"If you hurt her, I'll kill you." Gajeel sneers.

All Gray could do was gulp and nod as Gajeel gave him his blessing and places Juvia's hand in his and Gray brings her up to the alter to stand beside him, the whole time unable to take his eyes off of her.

"Beautiful..." he whispers to her as the Priest begins the ceremony.

After what felt like an eternity they reached the end of the ceremony. Now it was time for the vows. Juvia volunteered to go first.

"Gray-sama, before Juvia met you her world was a never ending storm. There was literally a raincloud over her head everywhere she went. Juvia always longed to find love one day, but no man she ever met had the power to love the rain. As time went on, she feared that nothing could ever chase the clouds away. But then everything changed the minute Juvia met you darling. It was love at first sight and from that moment Juvia knew that you were different. Juvia knew that if anyone was meant to be her soulmate, it was you. And sure enough, you were the one that chased the clouds away and let Juvia see the sun. All these years Juvia has known you have been the happiest of Juvia's life. Even if at first you ignored her, Juvia was still happy just being by your side. Juvia could have gone her whole life without you ever loving her back and she would have been happy, but then one day, you did and Juvia did not know she could feel even happier than she already did but she does. This is better than any romantic fantasy Juvia has ever thought of because this moment is real for both Juvia and Gray-sama. Juvia has been devotedly in love with her Gray-sama since the moment she met him and she will stay by his side forever as his wife."

Gray was tearing up during her speech as was everyone else in the guild. Gray wipes away his tears before continuing with his own vows.

"I know that I used to be pretty cold to you, and I mean hey, I am an ice wizard, that's to be expected."

That earned a laugh from the crowd.

"After I lost my master I encased my heart in ice, I was worried that if I let anyone get too close I'd get hurt again when they left. So when you attached yourself to me after we first met it scared me. I didn't want to get attached to anyone or let anyone get attached to me, because I always thought I'd sacrifice myself for the guild someday, and I didn't want you to get hurt. But then time went on, we went through a lot and then the relentless stream of your love finally cracked the ice around my heart. I realized your love gave me a reason to want to live. When I look at you I see the future Juvia. I want to spend the rest of my life with you at my side, and I swear I'll love you until the day I die and even beyond that. You have my word Juvia, not just as a wizard of Fairy Tail but as your husband who loves you more than anything in the world."

Now everyone in the guild was full on sniffling and some were crying. They'd never heard Gray say something so emotional before, and they were all feeling the effects of it.

Juvia's bottom lip was trembling before she burst out crying tears of joy and threw her arms around Gray and hugged him tight. But because she was a water wizard, the sanctuary was starting to flood.

"Hey Gray get a handle on your wife before she drowns us all!" Droy exclaims from the pews.

"Hey she's not my wife yet!" Gray reminds him.

"No, but she will be now." The Priest says.

"Juvia Loxar, do you take Gray Fullbuster to be your husband?"

"Yes! She does!" Juvia exclaims without hesitation.

"And Gray Fullbuster do you take Juvia Loxar to be your wife?"

"I do!" Gray declares while looking into her tear-soaked eyes.

"Then I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may now kiss the bride!" The Priest announces.

Juvia and Gray's mouths met the second he finished that sentence. Gray held her in his arms and they kissed each other deeply as their guildmates cheered around them and the church bells rang.

-------------

As if it was a sign from the universe blessing Gray and Juvia's union, it snowed during the reception. The cold didn't bother Gray and Juvia since they were both fairly used to it by now. But everyone else felt a little bit chilly so Natsu went around and made some campfires for people to gather around to keep warm. But he made sure that Lucy was extra warm by draping his jacket over her shoulders and lending her his scarf while she waited in the crowd of other bridesmaids to catch the bouquet that Juvia was about to throw. To Erza's delight, she was the one to catch it, and Jellal's face was bright red as she looked back at him with a look of pure joy on her face. He loved how adorable she looked when she was happy.

Lucy was partially disappointed that she wasn't the one to catch the bouquet. But knowing Natsu, it was probably going to be a long time before the thought of marriage crossed his mind. Or so she thought.

"Hey Lucy." Natsu says, catching her attention. "Have you ever thought about getting married?"

Lucy gasps and looks at him with wide eyes.

"Uh...why are you asking?" Lucy replies softly.

"I dunno really." Natsu says and shrugs. "I guess it's because this is the first wedding I've ever seen before, and seeing Gray and Juvia up there today exchanging rings and vows to each other made me wonder if that's something that's important to a relationship."

"Well, if you grew up the way I did then yeah it is. But when I was growing up, marriage was less about love and more about money. Sure when I was little I had dreams of falling in love with a handsome Prince Charming who would sweep me off of my feet and marry me. But, those days and that life are behind me now. Stuff like that doesn't matter to me as much anymore. Maybe because instead of ending up with the Prince, I ended up with the dragon." Lucy giggles.

Natsu smirks then looks at Lucy lovingly as she perks up and begins writing something down on a napkin, claiming that she just got some inspiration for a new story.

Then Lyon clinks his glass and everyone quickly raises theirs to toast to the new Mr. and Mrs. Fullbuster.

To Gray's surprise Juvia raised her glass of water to the toast instead of her champagne fluke.

"You avoiding the alcohol tonight so you don't get drunk and strip in front of everyone?" Gray asks.

"No. Although that is part of the reason." Juvia admits. "Juvia is not drinking because Porlyusica said that would be unwise for someone in my condition."

"What?" Gray asks, worry creeping onto his face. "Juvia are you sick?"

"No. Juvia is in perfect health, and so is the baby inside of her..." She says and blushes while holding her hand over her womb.

"You're pregnant!" Gray exclaims.

Everyone in the guild gasped, hearing Gray's outburst and turning towards the couple.

"Yes, Juvia has Gray-sama's baby inside of her." She repeats.

"Juvia don't say it like that it's just as much yours as it is mine..." Gray says softly and places his hand over her womb and she places hers over his.

"Just when I thought I couldn't get any happier tonight." He says before kissing her deeply while everyone congratulates him and Juvia on starting their family.

"Ugh! Finally!" Natsu exclaims and lays down on the table. "I've been smelling that bun in Juvia's oven for weeks! It's been killing me not to say anything to ice princess!"

"Hey uh, while we're on the topic of babies!" Levy shouts. "I think this would be a good time to let everyone know that mine are coming! Now. My water just broke!"

And then there was another collective gasp as everyone saw the puddle under Levy's chair.

------------

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed! Please comment if you liked this!

[sunnyborabora]

Adore you - Apollo!Jung Hoseok x Reader

You were chosen as the new priestess of Apollo. With your new duty comes the obligation of worshiping the god you are serving. But when Apollo finally comes to visit his new priestess, you are not the one worshipping anymore. 

Apollo Hoseok x human Reader

Tags: Fluff, Smut, very explicit smut, size difference, virginity kink if you squint. 

« Are you ready ? » You didn’t answer simply nodding your head not trusting your voice. The woman in front of you was looking at you closely, inspecting your clothes, even if you didn’t know why as the all purpose of this was to look as plain as possible. She brushed the thin white veil that was still in her hands, careful not to make it dirty. « Then we should be leaving, the priests are waiting. » You wish she could have let you a moment to say goodbye as you looked around to the other women. They had been what was closer to friends since you were forced to leave home a few weeks back. But it was too late as the woman was putting the white veil on your head, hiding your face to the world. You cried on your way to Delphi. Thankful for the veil to hide your sadness to the world. The cheers of the procession, and the music was so loud you couldn’t hear anything else. All you could see was the flaming sun through your veil. The temple of Apollo was gigantic as it disturbed the horizon line standing tall on top of the mount Parnassus. The sun was so hot today and you couldn’t help but think that it was on purpose. After all it was the 7th of Bysios, the anniversary of your God Apollo’s birth. It was such a special day, the day you will take the place of the previous Pythia in the great temple. The music had become louder and louder as you were coming closer to building as you started to distinguished the tall pole that erected from the ground. The music become more and more hasty as you felt the dancers and people in the procession getting louder. « Oh God of sun, Apollo, son of the great Leto and god of all Zeus, listen our calls. » You were shaking at this point. « To honor you, great Apollo, we are offering you a bride, young and beautiful, born in our great Delphi. » Suddenly it went quiet. The veil on your head was so heavy. « From your great beauty, and pureness, reveal yourself to your master, Pythia » You took of the veil, finally showing your bare face to the procession. But you weren’t paying any attention to them as you were blinded by the sun light. Everything hit you  at once, the bees buzzing, the smell of the laurel that was everywhere. The music started back as soon as your face was reveal. They started moving apart from you, leaving you in the center of the circle. The music changed and you were feeling weird already as you started moving. Soon you felt like you didn’t control your body, like someone had taken control as you were spinning and stretch your body toward the sky as if you were looking to reach something you couldn’t. You were dancing and dancing, not feeling the pain in your feet, the heat of the sun, the burn of your lungs asking for air. Suddenly the music stopped and all energy left you as you collapsed on the ground. Everything went black. You woke up feeling a bit sick. You head was spinning a bit so you took a little longer to stand up. It was dark outside as you presumed it was nighttime already. Nobody was there as you looked through the column. Big veils were floating around your room. It was truly beautiful. You felt small and lonely, walking around the room. You knew you were going to spend most of your time alone, priests of Apollo having the least contact with you as possible as they were not supposed to covet the bride of Apollo and you were supposed to concentrate on your god only. You wandered around for a bit, stepping out into the center part of the temple that was not covered. The grass was fresh under your naked feet, and it smelled good. You walked around a bit more and find multiple beehives around and you understood. It smelled like honey. You felt better, like your energy had been restored. You still felt anxious, but who would not be at the idea of living with a god. You came back under the covered area, passing through the veil. You find on your bed a big plate of fruits and a large amphora. You came closer and saw figs, grapes and pomegranate fruits. It looked delicious. You took a fig and bite into it. You moaned at the taste. It was so good. You looked around you, suspiciously. You had the impression that someone was watching you. But there was no one. Just the dark, and the moon light illuminating the entire garden. You ate a bit more, not getting enough of the fruit. This night you slept well, your dreams full of sunshine and music. But you were stressed when you woke up. Today was the first day you will spend in the cave. And maybe, if he wanted you, your god Apollo would contact you. Your rôle was important, kings, princes, heroes and demi god were going to come and seek your help. What if Apollo didn’t want to ? What if nothing was going to happen ? But you didn’t have time to think more, as you needed to get ready. You wore a simple blue dress, wrapped around your shoulders, as a deep red veil was adorning your hair. You were guided by two priests, who were waiting for you on the other side of the temple. They didn’t talk to you, or even looked at you for long. It was going to be a lonely life, but you were ready for it and even grateful. There wasn’t much hope for a girl like you outside the religious ways. The cave was bigger than you expected. It was wet inside and the walls  were covered in thine layer of water. It was cold. There was a stone, forming like a sort of throne, at the back of the cave. The priests stopped at the entrance not penetrating the sacred space. You, on the other hand, kept walking until you reached the stone. You climbed on it, the stone strangely hot and not slippery, finally sitting on it. You felt a strange sensation in your body, shivers running down your spine. You stayed here, not moving and weirdly enough, time didn’t seem long. You had no notion of time, but finally a man walked in. You had never seen him before, and he was not a priest. He was young, maybe a few years older than you. He seemed anxious and unsure of what to do. « Come closer » He did what you told him, bowing in front of you. « Pythia, I am Pyros, of Athens. -What do you want Pyros of Athens ? -I am at the beginning of a quest, an important quest. I can’t leave for the sea, without Apollo’s omen. » You felt a weird sensation on your neck, as if someone was holding it with their hand. Your veil fall on your eyes as you sink into the darkness. You opened your eyes again and you saw, not the cave you were in a second ago but the temple where you slept last night. A man was standing in the middle of the court, tall, so tall. Taller than any men you’ve ever seen. His hair were like made of light, pure blond, with gold strand shining. You walked toward him, unsure. It was true that Apollo was the most beautiful god. So beautiful you weren’t sure you were going to survive to this meeting. Where you even worthy of this ? His eyes were liquid gold, and it became more and more intense as you came closer. He smiled at you, his lips forming an adorable heart as he smiled. You took the hand he was landing you, yours so much smaller than his. « Nice to meet you priestess -Apollo », you whispered He bowed toward you, looking at your face closely. You blushed, but too fascinated to turn your gaze away. « Are you ready my dear ? -Ready ? » He smirked and pull you toward him. You felt his body against yours before not feeling anything anymore. You were back on your stone throne, but unable to move. You felt weird, as if your body was touched in all places. It was more contact than you’ve ever had. But you were too busy listening to the voice ringing in your ears to concentrate on that. It was his voice. And it was whispering you things. You didn’t know how many minutes you stayed that way but it seemed like an eternity to you. But when you opened your eyes again, Pyros was still here. He didn’t look like he had waited too long. Your vision was blurry, and you felt incredibly tired. « Pythia ? -Yes… -Have you seen something ? » You had not seen something… But you’ve heard a lot. And maybe Pyros should not leave for his quest just yet. You repeated your god words exactly like he had pronounced them. The young men seemed to trust you as his face fall in disappointment. But he nodded nonetheless. He bowed to you and told you he will sacrifice a sheep to Apollo in thanks. You nodded, hearing someone laugh in your head. You stayed until the sunset but no other heroes came to visit you. Coming back to the sanctuary, you stepped into the non-covered part. The hair was cold, and now that the sun was down there was nothing to make you warm. « Oh you are finally back ! » You turned around fast, so fast you almost tripped on your veil. « Oh ! Be careful priestess ! Let’s not get hurt ! » He came closer to you, grabbing your arm, helping you stand up. « God Apollo… What are you doing here ? -I wanted to see you of course ! After your first vision, some can be a bit confused » You weren’t confused. You actually felt fine. « I am just a bit tired. But I am fine. -The symbiosis was perfect, I have to say ! I rarely felt something, he passed his hand against your cheek making you shiver, so intense. Oh are you cold ? » You didn’t even have the time to answer as he is swinging a coat on your shoulders. It didn’t look like any animal skin you knew but it made you feel warm right away. « Thank you master -You’re welcome » he smiled again, his eyes disappearing in the process. « So, what do you think of the sanctuary ? -What I- I think ? -Yes. -It’s great… » He frowned, his lips forming an adorable pout. « Great ? -Yes ! I love it ! -That’s the most important then ! » He walked toward the inside, passing the white veils that were separating the court. You stepped inside finding him sitting on your bed. He was biting into a piece of meat, probably a part of the meal the servant of the temple had brought you. « Come sit with me » And you did. You waited beside him but he told you to eat. And like that you spent the night with Apollo. He devoured most of your food and complained about the lack of wine but soon remembered that we weren’t in a Dionysus temple. « You know, I personnaly know Dionysus, well he is an asshole » You laugh at that even if you knew you shouldn’t. r Apollo was kind and seemed to be way more approachable than you had thought. After this night where he had waited for you to fall dead asleep before leaving, he had sent the muses to keep you company. From time to time he would come visit you and play you the lyre for hours, both of you sitting on the grass, under the sun. But even when he wasn’t physically here, you could still feel him. After Pyrus, multiple men came to you sinking answers, and every time Apollo had greeted them with an answer. And every time you could hear him in your head. Feel him in your body. To be honest you didnt’ know how to feel about this. This is how you spent the last months. One day he found you chatting with the muses in the garden between laurel and roses. You looked breathtaking. Your time here had done wonders as you had taken weight now that you were eating enough. Your skin was glowing under the sun as your fingers were running on the lyre. You had nothing to envy to the muses around you. He could only see you. Your body stretched on the grass at the view of other gods. He looked toward the sky a scowl on his face. He could almost see his father drooling all the way up on his cloud. He was even imagining the reaction of other mortals. Disgusting. Weren’t you supposed to be his, his priestess, his bride. That was it, Apollo would not allow anyone he deemed unworthy to watch you, not even the other gods. You were his most precious treasure. You noticed Apollo standing a few meters away from you, and yous imply smiled at him. How could you not when the simple view of the god was making you full of happiness. You stopped smiling when you saw his expression. Him that was always so cheerful, was not smiling. He walked toward you and the muses, and with a motion of his hand dismissed them. You were now all alone on the grass. « Lord Apollo ? Is everything okay ? -No Y/n, I am quite displeased…. » You gulped. « Did I do something wrong my lord ? » Fuck why did you have to sound and look this obedient. You were always so good. What did surprise you and even him was how quickly he grabbed your arm and snatched you up. You simply gasped as he carried you away.

« What is happening ? I’m sorry if I did something wrong ! -You didn’t do anything, fuck- » You didn’t have the time to answer as he crushed his mouth against yours. It was so hard compared to your previous kiss. The same feeling that you felt during the possession during the first ritual. « Please, my Lord... -Anything you want my dear, I’ll do everything you want. » He was so tall, holding you like this, as he never been that closed to you before. « You are the one supposed to serve me, and look at this. I’ll provoked all the Olympians if you asked me to. » You moaned as his mouth attacked your neck, pleasure bubbling inside your body. It was all new to you, you didn’t know how to feel. This pressure started to build between your legs and every centimeter of your skin was feeling sensitive. « I should have claimed you a long time ago, as soon as I saw you dancing in front of my temple. I’ve never seen a most beautiful creature. Not even Aphrodite herself can compare to you. » You blushed hard at his word knowing that you were no comparison to the goddess of beauty herself. But his word sounded so real, you almost wanted to believe him. He kissed you again, as if he couldn’t have enough of your lips . Your breathing sped up slightly as his hands made their way down your collar to the neckline of your dress. You were basically wearing nothing, as he had made clear that he preferred simple dresses, white and fluid. You were okay with this, the weather always so warm that you didn’t need any clothes any way. You whimpered as he detached himself from you. « Open your eyes my love » You nearly shrunk back at the harsh gaze his golden eyes fixed you with. He looked frustrated... You whimpered again under his gaze, blushing. « Stop doing that love, you are going to kill me » You couldn’t help yourself but moan again. « Your power, love. You can get me on my knees just y a look, you know that. » He passed his hand in your hair. « So pure » « But don’t worry love. I am going to teach you all you need to know. Do you want this love ? You want to serve me completely ? » You were so mesmerized by his hypnotizing eyes that you didn’t answer. « Answer me. -I do, I want you to teach me. Please, my lord, teach me how to make you feel good, how to please you... » He groaned, the sound deep coming from the back of his throat. With all his might he detached himself from your body, taking a step back. « Take off my tunic » You watched him puzzled. « Come on love, take my clothes off » You came closer to him slowly, almost scared of touching him. Not that you haven’t seen him almost naked before. As much as your clothes, his did not a lot to hide his body. Why would you want to hide yourself when you are literally Apollo ? You were so small standing in front of him, and it was even more shocking when you touched his torso. His skin was glowing, as if he was cover in fine gold. You were realising slowly, what was happening. How you were so close from him, his utter perfection. One of his hand came and caress along your back. You shivered at the contact but you successfully took off the pin that was holding the thin material of his tunic. He was naked in front of you. You closed your eyes feeling so embarrassed suddenly. « Look at me, my love. » And you did, because how could you not. You watched his face, how his eyes seemed to sparkle with more gold than usual, how his blond hair were messy, falling on his forehead carelessly, how his normally cheerful smile was gone. His lips were slightly parted, glistening with saliva as he was licking them. Up until now, you had never noticed the fine golden line that adorn his skin like a tattoo. You started to trace it with your index finger not even noticing what you were doing, to mesmerized with his beauty. He looked at you with so much fondness. « Go on, touch me more » he encouraged. You had no idea what to do. Your education had been about poetry and theater and music. But now you wished the muses you stayed with had touch a word to you about this. You made your hand slither down his chest, feeling his hard abs against the tip of your finger. You racked your nails a bit against the skin of his thighs, hearing him moan int the process. Getting confident you wasted no time in touching his groin startling him a little. He made a strangled sound and bucked up into your hand. You gasped as he twitched in your hand. It was so big and large in your hand, you were asking yourself so many questions. How was it gonna fit ? « Don’t worry baby, you were made for me. » he chuckled, capturing your lips in a chaste kiss. « I wasn’t hopping for you to be so daring, love. » He said « It’s the first time hm ? That you are with a man ? » You bit your lip and nodded. « Then I should guide you a little bit. » He took your hands and guide you to the couch, sitting on it as you stayed in front of him. « I want you to feel how much I want you. How much passion you fill me with » You bit your lower lip. You dropped on your knees between his thighs and you see him twitch again, a strange liquid coming out of the tip. « Seeing you on your knees like this. » He didn’t even finish his sentence. He let his hands caress your shoulders, the strap of your dress falling down your arms, exposing your breast to his view. « Have you ever seen something so beautiful » He brushed his nose against your neck, kissing your pulse point. One of his hands came to rest on the side of your head as it allowed him to blindly explore your neck. He drew you up for another kiss. He smiled against your mouth, rubbing his nose along yours in an affectionate gesture. « Come on, » he encouraged, « I'm aching beautiful » You slipped your hand back between his legs, squeezing his member. Fingers awkwardly traced his shaft a little before passing your finger on the slit. You swallowed heavily and ran the palm of your hand up and down the underside, feeling the weight of his girth in your palm. A thick drop of pre-cum leaked out of his slit and threatened to run down his head. The liquid that was escaping the tip was like tinted gold, and you felt like you wanted to taste it. You licked your lips. At this rate you were throbbing with want and need. Your already dripping wetness became slicker and uncomfortable, so much that you were sure you could felt it on your thighs. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back a little - lips half open as a moan fell from them. « Love » He growled, « Your hand looks so small wrapped around my cock! » « My lord, I don't think it’s going to fit, » you said moaning. « Eventually it will.” He moaned, grabbing your hand. « Let's take these off, hm, so I can finally see you. » He helped you get on your feet, you dress definitely fall to your feet. He drank in your figure, his eyes sliding along your curves. He grabbed your hips, his fingers digging into your soft skin. His grip his hard on you as he made you come closer to him. He kisses your tummy, his mouth not leaving your skin. « I can’t believe I am finally seeing you. All those weeks of seeing you wandering the garden, the temple. Maybe spent a little more time watching you that I should have » His hand slip between your legs and you gasped hard. « My lord ! » His fingers pressed against your most intimate part and you cried out. « You like that ? How I touch you ? -I don’t know ! I feel- » You just felt a lot of new feelings. He stopped and you wanted to tell him to keep going, but he grabbed your ass and put you down on the couch. Soft lips worshiped your stomach and hipbones with open-mouthed kisses. His tongue traced by your bellybutton, biting the skin around it, sucking, leaving marks. You moaned, interlocking your fingers his loose locks. « You have such a beautiful body » He praised sincerely, kneeling between your legs. « My priestess! That I had the pleasure to watch how much, oh I wanted you. How I knew if I didn’t claim you soon, other gods would steal you away from me. » He purred, lowering his head and nipping the soft insides of your thighs. You blushed and laid down flatly on the couch, legs spread and arms above your head. This whole thing was surreal and it took his lips on you for the first time to bring you back to reality. « Hold on love » he told you, standing up in all his glory. Your god, the one you were dedicated to, was here, ready to take you, all of you. He was glowing, radiating light. So beautiful, so godly. « We’re going to do this right » he told you, grabbing your thigh and squishing your flesh, « I won’t hurt my fragile little mortal » He smiled, his lips taking that signature heart shape and you couldn’t help but smile back. « I’ll make you feel so good » he smirked. His hand slithered up your thighs, bending toward you. You could feel his breath and it was making your skin tingle. He was spreading your thighs so much you were so exposed. Even if you knew what was coming, when he placed his mouth on you, you jolted at the sensation. His tongue was firm pocking your clit and swirling it around and it was overwhelming. « My god ! Please ! What- -Do you feel it my little mortal, do you feel good ? -Yes ! » You cried , not controlling your body anymore, your hips lifting trying to get closer to mouth. And he didn’t stop you. Quite the opposite, he hooked his arm around your thighs, pressing your pussy even closer to tongue. You were feeling something, something weird. « My lord ! Please, I feel something ! Something is- » He didn’t stop, and the tight knot in your stomach snapped. You were shaking in his arm, as you felt the pleasure completely taking over your body. « You taste so good love, better than nectar. -Please, lord, just- -No I can’t yet, you are too small for this yet, I need to prepare you » And with this he slipped one finger in. You gasped, getting on your elbows to see what he was doing. He was smirking at you, his mouth and chin covered in your slick. « I have to make you nice and ready right ? » He curled his finger inside you and you threw your head back. He slid his index finger completely inside your body easily with no pain. You moaned, moving your hips against his hand as Apollo guided his finger in and out. When he felt it was safe enough he added another causing a slight stretch. « That feels good! » « I know, » He cooed, curling his fingers and rubbing against your newly found sweet spot. He scissored you open gingerly. A finger rested against your swollen clit, circling around the sensitive bud. Apollo was a generous god, and he won’t leave you hanging more. You ignored how he did that, but the pressure inside you and his movement on your clit send you over the edge once again, this time so much more powerful. You were a mess of emotion. It was happening. He was finally going to embrace you after all this time. You tried not to question the situation too much, not thinking about the fact that he must definitely do this with every of his priestess. You didn’t have the time to think more when fingers became faster and faster, even adding a third one. You came apart so fast, stronger than before. You almost fainted from the strong feeling, your vision suddenly blurry. You thought you were going to faint from the sensation. You felt a liquid run down your thighs but you didn’t have the strength yet to look. All you could feel was his body shift. « Your so good for me, Y/n, the best » You opened your eyes slowly and saw that he was a mess. His eyes were almost black as his pupils were dilated, his hair were sticky from sweat, and he was covered in something, the same thing that had come from you. « I- I am sorry- -Don’t be. Really » Seeing how worked up it had got him you stopped. «I think you are ready now… » A shiver of pleasure ran down your spine. « I’ll force it into your thigh cunt if I have to anyway » And you weren’t doubting him. But you weren’t scared, even the idea of him forcing himself inside you was making your body tinkle. « Are you ready to be mine? » Apollo whispered into your mouth, nibbling on the side of your chin. « Yes » You agreed, raising your legs a little and keeping them on his upper thighs. You knew he was big, but feeling the tip slowly entering you was something you weren’t ready for. You gasped, crying and contracting. « Shhh, it’s okay. » He touched your cheeks, caressing your soft skin with his thumb. His lips were pressing against yours. You moaned in his mouth when you felt him completely. « You can’t even take me completely » He sniggered, looking at your small frame under his. You clench around him, slowly adjusting. He groaned his hands fisting on each side of your head. « How do you feel? » He asked, his voice tight. « Full... » Your hand glided on your belly and you moaned again when you felt the bump forming by his member. « Yes Y/n. You feel it deep in you right ? » You nodded, now eager for him to move. He seemed to understand as he started moving his hips slowly. You clutched his shoulders with your small hands, trying to stabilize yourself. « Y/n » he growled, « You look so fragile wrapped around my cock » Hands roamed his hands up and down your sides and clutched your hips. He brought your hips closer to his, and you submissively wrap your legs around his hips. You held onto his shoulders and braced yourself against his body, forehead pressed against his. His hands were clutching your flesh rocking your hips against his. « You don’t know what I am gonna do to you. -Please, Apollo ! -You are the one who is supposed to worship me. But look at me. As if I was going to leave you hanging my priestess » You shuddered at the idea. You didn’t know what was going into you, but you started moving your hips too, showing him you needed more. His member was so heavy inside you, you were stretch so good. Apollo growled and squeezed the flesh of your ass, bruising it. He ducked his head down and captured one of your nipple between his lips - sucking and tugging on it. « Lord Apollo ! Please ! » you moaned, your nails digging in his golden skin. « I know! » He gloated. « How does it feel to take your god’s cock ? -It feel so good ! » You agreed, feeling your orgasm building up for the third time. «Does it turn you on, Y/n, that every god of Olympus might watch you right now. » He purred into your ear, « Cum nice and hard on my cock, so that everyone, every god, satyr, men, spirit in this world knows that I am the one you are serving, I am the one who’s taken you for the first time and ruined your virgin pussy. » « Yes my Lord ! » you screamed. It was hitting inside you so good, you were dripping down his length, your mind was blank and you couldn’t think as the pressure in your belly snapped. You screamed, arching in his arms as he is holding you closer and closer. You squeezed him so good he had trouble moving inside you. But he didn’t stop and you rode your orgasm until you couldn’t take it anymore. « Please my lord...» You were crying from all the pleasure you were feeling. Apollo gave a breathy chuckle and planted his lips on the side of your neck lovingly. « Are you sore, little one? » He asked, « You are doing so good” « Gonna- » you moaned in response. « Of course you are. You are so good » He kissed you again this time with more passion. Your eyes closed, savoring the taste, and the feeling of having him this closed. He was pounding hard in your body. His head buried in your neck, and you could hear every of his noise. He hadn’t been quiet since the beginning but having him so close, hearing him moan and grunt your name. You were going to cum again, for what felt like the 10th time of the night but you felt him becoming sloppier in his trust too. Her orgasm twisted in her stomach and threatened to become unraveled. He was covered in sweat, eyes closed, his body shining, literally radiating light as he was cumming closer and closer to own release. « You’re glowing » He smiled at you fondly. Letting go of your ass as he put you back down on the bed. He took your hands in his and you felt a new connection. This position was so intimate, new. You liked it even better to be honest.

« I'm gonna cum, are you ready priestess » Apollo growled, « cum for me, cum again »

« I can’t ! Please » you cried, tightening yourself on his member.

« You don’t want to cum, but look your body doesn’t seem to want to let me go »

He moaned against your lips, keeping his movement as steady as he could but it was starting to get sloppy. He threw his head back, his hands clutching yours stronger. He was beautiful and for a second you couldn’t help but admire his beauty. You felt him, his member twitching inside you. Soon he was feeling you up, his seed overflowing your pussy, making of you an even bigger mess. You came at the feeling, eyes rolling at the back of your head, shuddering at the feeling. You felt him move but you couldn’t open your eyes. You were too tired. You just heard him whisper in your ear.

« Rest well pythia »

And he disappeared. You woke up in the morning alone, but the coat Apollo gave you was covering your body. The sun was high in the sky and no clouds were on sight. Apparently everything was good for the god of the Sun. You couldn’t help but smile when you saw the lyre laying beside your bed. You could recognize it anywhere. Picking it up, you looked at it carefully before clutching it in your arms. Your duty could wait a bit more.

[sadchappuccino]

Use That Tone

Pairing: Peter Parker(18+) x reader

Warnings: SMUT, dom/sub, cuffing, oral(female receiving), praise kink, dirty talk, unprotected sex (don’t be a fool cover your tool), overstimulation, subspace

Request: by @loxbbg , NOT MY IDEA but I really like it :Peter thinking it's hot when you get sarcastic. Literally all day your being sarcastic with everyone cuz your in a mood and he literally is walking around with a huge hardon. When yall get home and you give him sass, hes pinning you up against the door and whispering in your ear, "try using that tone with me and I'll fuck you till you cant think straight" and reader saying “I’d like to see you try Parker”

A/n: normally I would’ve done a summary but the request tell everything.

———

Your grunts could be heard through the entire compound, you were hitting a punchingnag like there was no tomorrow. “Wow y/n, you could take a break you know” Tony said, you didn’t listen to him though you continued hitting the bag, “Sure why don’t I just take a break for the next few years, you know let crime take it’s merry way” you rolled your eyes.

“Wow, didn’t expect you to be sarcastic like that” Tony laughed. “I guess I’m a whole new person today” you joked, for some reason you just felt sarcastic today. Like the only things your brain could formulate were witty responses.

You hit the bag with one powerful punch and it swung around the room. “Now I’m done” you smiled at Tony. “Well that’s perfect because we were going to eat dinner” he said to you, “you can shower after it”

“Okay I’m coming” you wiped some sweat off of your forehead with a towel before you followed Tony to the common room where chinese was placed on the table. Everyone was sitting around the table eating their food and laughter was everywhere.

“Wow y/n, nice outfit” Sam joked, he was talking about the sports bra and leggings in which you normally work out in. “Thanks bird brain, but you’re too old for me” you winked while you sat down next to your boyfriend Peter. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of your body, if you looked close you could still see some marks from last night on your skin, but you had covered it with a layer of make-up.

“Hey Pete” you pecked his cheek and soon a crimson colour was spread over his face. “Aw that’s cute” you poked his cheek, totally oblivious of the boner Peter was desperately trying to hide. “I- uhm- thanks?” Peter didn’t know what to say, he was too infuriated with your body to notice that everyone was staring at him.

“Y/n it looks like you broke Peter” Clint snickered, “Nah Peter is the one who breaks me most of the times” you laughed slightly. The colour of Peter’s face became even redder.

“Really? tell me more” Clint laughed, “How much I would looove to do that” you said clearly sarcastic, “I won’t”

“Ah you’re a party pooper”

Peter kept quiet during the exchange, he was still looking at your perfect body. His eyes were focused on the fabric that was keeping him from seeing your entire chest bare for him. His hand gripped your tigh, it was a way of showing you that he needed you.

“Well I think Peter and I are going home” you said kindly to the rest. “Why so soon?” Bucky furrowed his eyebrows. “Because we hate everyone here” you winked at him, “because I am tired and I need a shower” you explained to them.

Everyone bid their goodbyes and Peter and you took a cab home, the moment you walked into your shared apartment Peter pinned you to the wall and attacked you neck. He held your hands above your head so you couldn’t do anything.

“Peter? What are you doing?” You asked him, it took all your willpower not to moan right there, “Are you a vampire” you snickered slightly at the terrible joke you made.

“try using that tone with me again and I'll fuck you till you cant think straight” he growled against your skin and you felt your knees turn weak by it. “I’d like to see you try Parker” you knew that if you would continue being snarky that you wouldn’t be able to walk straight for days, so that’s what you did, trying to stay sarcastic as your boyfriend made you a mess.

“What did I just say” he raised his eyebrows and stared at you with a glare filled with lust. “I don’t know maybe you should refresh my mind” you dared him. Peter smirked at you before he picked you up and threw you on the bed. “You are going to regret that darling” he warned you. He grabbed a tie out of the closet and tied your hands to the headboard. It was tight but not tight enough to hurt you.

“Now let’s start” he ripped your bra to pieces and discarded it somewhere on the floor. He then pulled your leggings and panties off so that you were bare in front of him.

His faced inched closer to your pussy and he took one bold stripe. “Fuck Peter~” you cursed. He started sucking on your bundle, you felt his curls near you and it drove you crazy. You tried to suppress your moans, but it was hard since Peter’s tongue was flicking your clit. “Be a good girl and don’t hold in those moans” he said to you. “O- Okay” you started to move your hips, grinding against Peter’s face but his hands pinned your hips still. “Don’t move baby” he ordered and you nodded your head like crazy. “I need your words” Peter hummed against your pussy. “Yes Pete” you said in between moans. “Good girl” he said letting another wave of pleasure hit you.

He continued his actions only Peter’s tongue started to go inside you. He twirled his tongue and pumped it in and out of you, it wasn’t long untill you needed your release, “Peter~ Can I cum?” you asked him. “Cum all over me baby” those words drove you over the edge and you let the pleasure hit you. Your walls tightened around Peter’s tongue before you came. You were waiting for Peter to leave your body so that he wouldn’t be covered in your juices, but you noticed that he didn’t want to move since he was cleaning you up woth his mouth.

He moved up from between your thighs and you couldn’t see his chin glinting with your cum.

“Oh my god Peter” you said. “I’m not done yet baby girl” you shivered by those words. Peter unbuckled his belt and dropped his pants to the floor. He pulled off his shirt leaving him soley in his boxers. He lowered his underwear showing you his erect cock.

“God you’re beautiful” Peter sighed before he planted himself between your thighs. He placed one of your legs on his shoulder so he would have better entrance and without a warning he pushed himself inside you, it was fairly easy since you were incredibly wet at the moment. Your walls were streching by the big cock that entered you. Your mind became hazy by all the pleasure you were getting.

“Awh Peter~” He pouned into you, hitting all the right spots. “I- I can’t last long” You groaned. “Come one baby, a little longer” Peter said. His thrusts had a steady pace, they were strong and deep, filling you up to the brim.

“O-Okay” you said in between moans. Peter thrusted a couple more times “you can cum now baby” Peter cooed to you. You came with screams of Peter’s name as he made one more deep thrust into you.

You were a painting mess, you had so much pleasure that you didn’t even notice that Peter released you from the headboard and turned you around on your knees. “Now we aren’t done yet” Peter whispered in your ear, “And this time you can cum whenever you want, but that doesn’t mean I’ll stop. Now remember your safe word?” He asked you at which you muttered a ‘yes’, “Perfect let’s start” he smiled.

He placed his tip at your entrance and he slipped in you again, your wetness returned fastly as he started moving in you. Your lubrication enlargend by the second as Peter’s pelvis met your behind. He pulled back before he slammed in you again. Peter grinded his hips and soon you were moaning again.

After a while you lost count of how many times you came, but you were sure it was a lot and you didn’t know if you could take it any longer. Peter made one last deep thrust before he came inside you.

Your body went limp as he pulled out of you, there was a veil cloaked over you. You laid on the bed in a sexual euphoria. You heard soft mumbles of Peter’s voice, but you couldn’t quite place it. You felt the faint touches of him stroking your hair. “Come back to me baby” you barely heard him say, “You did so good gorgeous” Peter peppered your shoulder with kisses making you slowly gain conscious. “Pete?” You rubbed your eyes to get the blurry spots away.

“You went out for a while” Peter said to you his voice was soft. “Mhm” you hummed. You snuggled closer to his body and Peter wrapped his arms around you. Your legs were intertwined as you fell into a deep slumber.

The next morning you woke up with a dull pain between your legs and sore spots on your wrists. You looked to your side to see that Peter was gone. You stood up and hobbled to the closet to grab one of Oeter’s shirts and a pair of panties. You walked to the kitchen with a limb in your step and sure enough Peter stood there in all his glory. He wore grey sweatpants with no shirt. You could still see that after-sex-sweat on his skin.

You wrapped your arms around his waist and hugged him close. “Goodmorning beautiful” Peter smiled, “Are you feeling okay? I might’ve taken it a bit too far yesterday” he apologized. “I’m perfer Pete, just an ache in between my legs” you laughed, “And don’t apologize I like it a lot”

“Well I’m glad that you liked it because I am planning to do that more often” he turned around so that he was facing you, your arms never left his body, “Are you sure that you’re okay, though? I mean you passed out yesterday” he grabbed your cheek and stroked his thumb over your cheek. “I went into the subspace Pete” you snickered, “I thought you would know what that was based on last night” you joked.

Peter pursed his lips, “I thought you knew what happens when you use that tone on me” he raises his eyebrows. “Maybe I need soem refreshment” you dared him. “Whatever you say darling” he attacked your sides with his fingers, tickling you. “This- is- not what- I meant” you said in between giggles. “Well then you should’ve specified” He smirked before he captured your lips in a loving kiss.

———

Masterlist

Permanent taglist: @loxbbg

[yatorihell]

In The Darkness Chapter 59 - Mortem

Noragami x Harry Potter AU

Words: 1,234

Summary: The world learns that the Sorcerer has returned, but for Yato it was far too late.

Also available on Yatorihell A03

Yato stared down at the scattered newspapers of the Daily Prophet he’d dropped on the floor after reading it. The headline glared up at him, black letters swimming under a picture of the carnage of the Department of Mysteries.

MINISTER RESIGNS – SORCERER RETURNS EXCLUSIVE!

It seemed – after a year of the Sorcerer’s return – the world finally believed him. The only explanation the Ministry could come up with for the destruction of the Hall of Prophecy was that the Sorcerer had sought out the prophecy and destroyed it, along with the fates of millions of others.

Such negligence in the protection of the Ministry and its artifacts forced the Minister to resign, along with those who assisted him in his hostage of power. Who the new Minister of Magic would be was still to be decided.

Of course, Oshi had vanished following the Ministry battle. Whilst there was no official reason for her departure from Hogwarts and the Ministry, the rumour of her allegiance to the Sorcerer was well and truly alive.

Professor Tenjin came out of hiding not long after the news broke. Acquitted of all charges of treason, he was reinstated as Headmaster of Hogwarts following the Minister's disgraced exit.

Whilst the end-of-year feast had been a joyous occasion, Yato had slunk away to hide his face.

Now on the fourth floor, Yato resigned himself to his hidey-hole, an undisturbed room that he used to skip class. The bookcase was lined with a thick layer of dust, the tapestry hanging by a few threadbare strings against the stone wall. The fireplace was now a host to a family of spiders that skittered up the chimney, their webs spun finely over the room.

Yato looked around at the abysmal state of the room, wondering how he ever felt at home in this dingey little space when he had nowhere to call home. He hadn’t been here since his second year when he had met Hiyori and Yukine. Had it been five years already? And only two since he’d found Sakura again…

Sakura.

The week following her death had blurred away. From the moment Daikoku wrapped his arms around Yato to stop him from throwing himself into the veil after Sakura, dragged away kicking and screaming as the Deatheaters and the Order fled the Ministry. There had barely even been a funeral. Just an erection of tombstone in a quiet graveyard with a handful of people who knew Sakura and of her passing. After that Yato could hardly remember anything but a hole in his chest. The scattered pages of the Daily Prophet at his feet were a sickening reminder of that.

Yato flopped down on the red sofa with a sigh, his hand naturally tucking in his pocket for a moment before he pulled out his silver hand mirror. He flipped it over in his hand, ignoring his sullen face in the reflection. It had mysteriously reappeared in his dorm, placed face down on his besides table as if it had never went missing. Now it was the last part of Sakura he had left.

Bitterness swept over Yato when he first saw it. He knew it was Nora who had brought it back. Why, he didn’t know as Sakura’s mirror was probably back in Grimmauld Place, never to be touched again.

Sakura, it seemed, was now a phantom the Ministry would never catch.

The door creaked and Yato’s eyes flickered upwards as the door slowly opened. Yukine’s and Hiyori’s apologetic faces appeared around the weathered doorframe, giving him half a smile as they stepped into the room. It seemed to be the new way they greeted him, unsure how to deal with Yato’s grief amongst the growing attention from students now that the world knew he had indeed faced the Sorcerer the year prior.

Yato tucked the mirror back in his pocket and flopped back against the sofa, letting his hair fall partially over his eyes and stared at the blackened ceiling.

The summer sun filtered onto the worn tapestry and shed golden rays against their faces. Yukine stopped short of the crumpled newspaper on the floor with a pitying look that he tried not to show, knowing how it felt to be looked at that way.

Hiyori perched on the edge of the sofa, hands on her knees and looking as if she didn’t know what to do with herself. In truth, she didn’t. Every time they had told Yato it wasn’t his fault they were shut down.

“It was my fault,” Yato would cut them off with, and neither Hiyori nor Yukine could argue with him.

Accident or not, Yato knew it was his fault alone. Yet the sickening truth of what he had done hadn’t caught up to him, and perhaps it wouldn’t.

As Hiyori pointed out, the Trace – a Ministry tracker for underage magic that would break once a person turned seventeen – had not alerted the Ministry about the magic they had used in the Department of Mysteries. After all, so many students using magic in the termtime would only result in an endless alert for the use of underage magic, and the Ministry had bigger problems now.

“The Order has been sworn to secrecy,” Yukine broke the silence and returned the look Yato gave him with a pointedness that told him not to argue. “Madame Kofuku will not tell anyone what happened, and neither will we. Sakura didn’t die so you could throw your life away.”

The thought was of little comfort. Only those who were in the Ministry knew the truth, and he knew he could trust them – except for the Deatheaters who would be in no rush to tell what they saw.

Yato heaved himself back up to rest his elbows on his knees, feeling the reassuring dig of the mirror jabbing in his ribs.

A lulled silence that bathed the room. Not awkward or sullen, just… silence.

“Madame Kofuku also found something.”

Yato turned his head to Hiyori at her words, his eyebrow quirking upwards for just a second.

Hiyori’s hand delved into her pocket, but her eyes adverted from Yato’s as she slowly pulled out a long, thin object.

Yato stared at the object in Hiyori’s hand, piecing together its significance until it all fell into place and shattered his heart.

Sakura’s wand.

Yato felt the need to heave as he remembered the look on Sakura’s face, the clatter of the wand falling from her hand resounding in his ears, but fought it down. After a moment’s hesitation, Yato took the hilt of the wand. It was dark and tinged with red, wood from a cherry tree like Hiyori’s, and felt surprisingly light in his hand.

Yato’s eyes welled quicker than he could summon the strength to stop the tears. The wand blurred in front of his eyes. He felt Hiyori’s hand on his knee, and then Yukine’s hand on his shoulder, soothing him, telling him it was ok, that he wouldn’t be alone this summer, that he could come home with Yukine until he was ready to go back to Grimmauld Place.

Yato sniffled, his palm pressed against his cheek to wipe away the tears and his breathing shuddering as he fought for control over his body, and nodded.

Though Yato thought he had killed his family, they were still with him in his darkest moment.

And he couldn’t have asked for more.

[frobster]

Pretty please, would you write actual fic to go with your King!Bucky/Prince!Peter fic? Like, with plot and smexy times and all that? Please and thank you?!

So I kind of lost steam at the end, and didn’t include cockwarming. I apologize. I can try to fit it in to another ask that I answer soon so you aren’t left completely without it.

Tags: Alpha!Bucky, omega!Peter, public mating

Length: 3k words

When Bucky and Peter first met, they were hesitant around each other. There was a sense of discomfort, a sense of unknown. They were strangers to each other and, despite their family reputations, did not want to actually be rude since they were due to be married. Their relationship had a bit of a rocky start with miscommunication abound, but they managed to become a little more comfortable with each other by the time their wedding rolled around.

Bucky, as an alpha, was expected to wear a formal suit. He had a high rank in his country’s military so he wore his formal suit with a sword at his side and a cape over his shoulder. It was mostly white, with just a few blue accents.

Peter, as an omega, was expected to wear something more flowing. He still wore a suit, but his suit jacket acted as a long train behind him and his veil nearly went all the way down to the floor. His outfit was mostly white as well, but with red accents instead.

The marriage ceremony itself was formal and tedious and Bucky didn’t care for it one bit. The only saving grace for him was how gorgeous Peter looked, and he knew the both of them together made quite a striking image.

They had to post for sketches and quick paintings afterwards, another tedious task, but again he knew the portrait would look amazing when it was finished. After all the formalities were observed, it was time for the feast. Feasts were always Bucky’s favorite part of weddings whenever he was forced to attend them, but this definitely had a different feeling given that he was the one who just got married.

Peter was perched next to him in a throne that looked similar to his own. They were both princes and would be kings soon, once the legalities were agreed upon. Combining kingdoms was never an easy task. Bucky was willing to wait since he wasn’t all that eager to have that extra responsibility hefted onto him.

As the feast wore on, Bucky noticed Peter had only really picked at his food. He frowned and turned in his seat to face his husband, actually wanting to console him rather than ignore it like most other royalty did.

“Are you feeling alright?” Bucky asked, keeping his voice low.

Peter looked up, quite surprised that Bucky would show interest. He seemed to debate his answer for a moment before he sighed and shrugged, shoulders slumping.

“I am nervous. About what.. Comes next,” he admitted in an equally soft voice.

After the feast, since they were a royal couple, they were expected to mate right there for everyone to see. There had to be confirmation that Peter was untouched before now and that their bond was solidified. It was an incredibly invasive tradition and Bucky always left before it happened since he felt it wasn’t his business to see. Now that it was his own wedding, he realized he had the power to send other people away.

“I can send them away. Only our families have to see it, none of the other guests. And I will be as gentle as I can,” Bucky promised as he reached out to hold Peter’s hand.

To his relief, that seemed to work. Peter took a deep breath and nodded as he squeezed Bucky’s hand. He finally lifted his head to give his alpha a smile, and Bucky returned it with a grin of his own.

“As soon as they announce it is official, I will carry you away to our chambers and nobody will have to see you again for days. I’ll take care of you.” Bucky ran his thumb over Peter’s palm, his words and touch full of care and brimming with romance.

The rest of the feast passed easier and Peter managed to eat what was on his plate by the end of it. But the omega’s nerves started climbing again as servants came out to clear the tables away and sweep the floor. When they laid down blankets and cushions, Bucky could smell Peter’s distress. They were still holding hands, but Bucky switched which hand Peter was gripping on to so he could wrap his other arm around his husband’s shoulders.

“It’ll be alright, I promise. I’ll focus on you first, make you feel relaxed. Unless you would rather we get it over with quickly, then I can spend all night helping you unwind.” Bucky’s voice was smooth and confident, the exact opposite of how Peter felt.

Peter’s lack of experience wasn’t what bothered him. Most omegas were expected to remain untouched until they mated, especially royal omegas. But he valued his privacy, his sense of autonomy. Knowing that he had to be exposed to everyone was a personal invasion that he did not appreciate.

“Just get it over with quickly. I do not wish to be under their watch for longer than necessary,” Peter hissed in a whisper, clearly displeased with the situation now that it was upon him.

Bucky nodded in understanding before he stood and helped Peter up too, leading him to the nest in the middle of the room.

“Before we begin, I would ask that all those who are not immediate members of the two royal families to leave,” Bucky announced loudly.

There was a good deal of grumbling and offended scoffs, but a sharp look from the alpha had them bowing stiffly before walking out. Those that remained made a much smaller crowd, and Bucky could feel Peter relax ever so slightly against his side.

“That was unusual,” Queen Winifred said with a raised eyebrow.

“That was a smart choice,” Queen May countered, offering Bucky a rare smile.

The two queens glanced at each other before returning to their seats, the thrones situated a few steps away from the nest. Peter was looking at the nest rather than at the people still gathered around them as everyone took their seats. He was clearly not pleased with the state or smell of it, but there wasn’t any time for him to fix it into a proper nest. All he wanted was for the claiming ceremony to be over as soon as possible so he could hide away in his chambers for the next few weeks.

Bucky lifted his crown off to set aside before doing the same with Peter’s, and smiled at how his omega’s curly hair bounced right back into place without the heavy gold weighing it down.

“We only have to undress enough for me to bite your neck and.. enter you,” Bucky said in an attempt at calming Peter down.

But Peter huffed and rolled his eyes before reaching up to start unbuttoning his outfit, clearly well-versed in how to quickly take it off. Bucky followed suit and only undressed to the same level as Peter, who kept his underclothes on. They would be easy enough to tug aside so Bucky could accomplish what needed to be done without completely baring Peter to the room.

“I know what is expected, James. Just because I have never been touched does not mean I am clueless. You are going to knot me and bite me, and there is a high likelihood of it triggering my heat and possibly your rut as well. Even if that does not happen, we will still be staying in our chambers together for the near future since bonds take a while to settle and solidify.” Peter spoke clinically, which only reinforced his lack of experience. Bucky wasn’t sure if he felt pity or arousal. Likely some strange combination of both.

Without another word, Peter laid down on his back and held up a hand to invite Bucky to lay with him. Trying to block out the other people watching them, Bucky lowered himself down too and tried to hide Peter away from them with his body. While Peter wasn’t small by any means, he was still an omega and alphas had a physical advantage when it came to size. There were a few exceptions to this rule, but Peter and Bucky’s bodies followed it quite well.

It felt almost intimate with the blankets and cushions piled around them and Bucky crowding Peter in, creating a space that felt private. Peter gazed up at Bucky as he tried to relax, cheeks pink in embarrassment at having to be watched. If this was a different circumstance and they were alone, Peter would be far more eager. 

“I’ll take care of you, I promise,” Bucky murmured before pressing a kiss to Peter’s forehead. He wasn’t going to assume that Peter wanted to be kissed properly. Their first and only kiss had been at the altar during their wedding to signify their marriage.

“I know,” Peter breathed out before pulling Bucky down for a proper kiss.

Bucky made a faint sound of surprise before settling in and returning the kiss. It didn’t take long for them to feel heated, the air becoming hot and humid in their little nest. Peter started to squirm against the cushions and lift his hips to press against Bucky. When the alpha pushed down to grind against Peter more easily, the omega let out a soft whine that went straight to Bucky’s slowly-growing erection. And just a few seconds after that beautiful sound, Bucky caught a whiff of Peter’s aroused scent.

Rather than communicating with words, the couple used touches and sounds to figure out what the other wanted. Peter made the sweetest moans when Bucky found a sweet spot to touch, and the alpha rumbled low in his chest as his omega grew softer beneath him. Neither of them even cared about the other people gathered around watching them, waiting for the moment when Bucky entered Peter and bit a mark into his neck to solidify the union between the two kingdoms.

There was no sense of urgency like Bucky expected and no pressure to perform like Peter expected. They moved together almost languidly, almost like they had years of practice and hadn’t just met months before. Bucky pushed his hands up under Peter’s thin shirt, thumbs brushing over the omega’s nipples as he nibbled down his neck. Peter whined and tried to reach down to tug at Bucky’s pants, apparently eager to get started.

Since Bucky knew they would have plenty of time to explore each other once they were safely tucked away in their chambers later, he didn’t drag it out. His hands slid back down to push Peter’s pants down just enough to expose him before doing the same with his own pants. He was fully hard bu then, and his cock leaked some precum down onto Peter’s lower belly. The feeling of warm fluid against his skin made Peter gasp softly and peek down.

“Bucky-” Peter cut himself off with a moan before dropping his head back, skin flushed pink all over his body. 

“Yes, Peter?” Bucky asked with a smirk, knowing full well what caused that reaction.

Bucky was well-endowed, even amongst alphas. And while they had agreed to not drag this initial mating out, he knew it would be difficult on Peter to take him without much preparation. So he pushed a hand between the omega’s legs and sought out his hole, rubbing slow but firm against it.

“Don’t worry. I’ll open you up a little bit. But I know you wanted to make this quick.”

Peter just whined as Bucky pushed a finger in. Bucky took a moment to let Peter adjust before easing in a second, and then finally a third. He still would’ve preferred more preparation but Peter was getting impatient, whining and squirming and clearly aware of the others in the room again. The faint sounds of furniture shifting, heavy breathing, and clothes being adjusted floated in the air around them.

“Just relax for me,” Bucky murmured as he shifted his hips to get better situated.

With that warning, the hand he was using to open Peter up was instead used to guide him into place. They made eye contact once more before Bucky started to push in, going as slow as he could manage to let Peter get used to it without lingering too long. Peter’s eyes went wide and he let out a squeaky gasp like his breath was caught in his throat. The sight of his omega experiencing this for the first time had Bucky growling softly, a strangely possessive feeling welling up in his chest.

It took some readjusting, some pausing, some pauses for breath. But finally, Bucky’s hips met Peter’s ass. Bucky moaned and dropped his head down next to Peter’s already panting for breath with the control and restraint it took to keep from pounding into the precious omega beneath him. Peter was so soft and warm, so tight and wet. While Bucky had laid with a few partners before, absolutely none could compare to Peter.

“Alpha,” Peter whimpered, wiggling a little beneath Bucky’s much larger body.

Bucky lifted his head immediately to look down at Peter, worried he had done something to cause harm or discomfort. But the look on Peter’s face was pure pleasure. His eyes were half-closed, tears sparkling on his eyelashes and trailing down his pink cheeks, mouth open with saliva pooling in the corner of his red lips. Bucky felt himself twitch inside the omega, who whined at the sensation.

“Good omega,” Bucky praised. “So good for me.”

A heartbeat passed before Bucky started moving, slowly rocking his hips and not pulling out too far so Peter could get used to the movement. Peter gasped and whimpered and whined, fingers digging into Bucky’s biceps as he clung to his alpha. Even just the slow rocking had Bucky’s knot starting to swell up and he knew Peter’s wish of not taking long to mate would come true.

While Bucky tried to make sure he didn’t hurt Peter, he wasn’t entirely focused on making sure Peter felt good. That was intended to come later in the night when they had some privacy and he could properly touch and explore his new mate. But to his wondrous surprise, Peter was soon making pitchy sounds and scrabbling at Bucky for a better hold before his body went rigid. Peter was gasping for breath for a moment until he shuddered with a moan and slumped back into the nest. 

Peter just came. Without any additional stimulation.

The realization had Bucky ducking his head to muffle a moan against Peter’s neck as he picked up his pace. There was a vague sense of discomfort coming from one side, which Bucky dimly recognized as the side where Queen May was seated. But he didn’t care about her comfort. He cared about Peter’s, and Peter seemed to be enjoying their mating quite a lot.

“Alpha,” Peter whined again, turning his head away to bare his throat. “Bite me, alpha. Claim me,” he begged.

And who was Bucky to deny him that?

Bucky pressed his mouth to Peter’s neck and started sucking dark marks into his pale skin. He decorated the omega’s neck with them before starting to nibble and scrape his teeth across the sensitive scent gland he would soon bite into.

Peter’s precious sounds and perfect body had Bucky close to coming too, close to completing their coupling. He grunted lowly with every thrust, the sounds making Peter shiver with excitement. The general air of the room grew tense and electric as everyone waited for the quickly approaching moment of claiming.

And finally, after what could have been hours or seconds, with his hands pinning Peter’s hips in place, Bucky bit deeply into Peter’s neck just as he thrust forward hard enough to lodge his knot in place. Hw growled against the omega’s neck, who moaned loudly and clung to Bucky as he went still, eyes wide as his body struggled to make sense of what was happening.

Bonding was an intimate chemical reaction that tied two people together almost permanently. Paired with being knotted for the first time, Peter was so overwhelmed that he started crying. He hid his face in Bucky’s neck as he hiccuped and gasped for breath, but the alpha didn’t pull his mouth away for a good while.

When Bucky finally looked up, he had blood on his lips and Peter’s neck was throbbing in time with the alpha’s knot, like they were one person. Peter whimpered and nuzzled against Bucky, seeking out the comfort of his mate. They were acting on instinct since they were both overwhelmed and sensitive from the new bond. They scented each other, staying pressed as close as possible and both making soft happy sounds.

The room around them relaxed, not that either of them noticed. After a moment, someone came over and gently set a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky recoiled and growled out of instinct, tucking Peter protectively against his chest who whimpered and hid his face in Bucky’s neck.

“James, really. I am your mother,” Queen Winifred said with a huff. “Show me his neck.”

Bucky blinked a few times as understanding dawned on him. Then he looked down and gently nudged Peter, wordlessly telling his mate that everything was okay. Peter finally peeked out and tilted his head away to show the raw, red bite mark in the side of his neck. The queen nodded, seeming pleased with the bite, and went back to her throne.

The couple stayed in the makeshift nest for a little longer, just until Bucky’s knot went down and he could pull out without causing Peter any more pain. The omega whined at the loss, and Bucky gently reminded him that they could be intimate again as soon as they were in their chambers. This calmed Peter down enough for him to adjust his clothes before standing on shaking legs and hiding behind Bucky, not wanting anyone to look at him.

Easily sensing his mate’s distress, Bucky grabbed a blanket from the nest and wrapped it around Peter to help hide him before scooping him up. Bucky bid a curt farewell to everyone before walking off to their private wing. He fully intended to lock the door and spend the next few days exploring Peter’s body, discovering every sweet spot on his mate in the safety and comfort of their own nest.

[nemesyis]

The Mansion - Part 3

Part 3 - Bath time fun time part deux

@noonachronicles​

Warnings: all the holes get filled, deep throating, anal play, cum play, oral - male and female receiving, 

A/N - ever play tetris? Yeah… this was exactly like playing tetris.

Part 2 

Your breath quickened as you watched the three men as they rinsed themselves off.  Slowly running water over their golden skin as they exchanged glances and spoke quietly amongst themselves.  Occasionally one of them would glance your direction and smile.  

You sat frozen to your low stool, the hand-held shower wand forgotten in your grasp.  The tallest one stood and approached you in all of his naked glory.  Thick thighs framed his half erect member.  It was thick, thicker than what you could ever recall seeing in person.  He saw you staring as he leaned against the low partition.  “You like what you see babe?  I’ll let you see it up close if you want.”

Drawing your gaze up his toned torso, you were met with a boxy, impish smile.  One of his companions joined him, throwing an arm around his shoulder. “Tae, are you strutting around showing off your goods again?”  The speaker had smouldering eyes and the most impossibly lush lips you had ever seen on a man.  He had a slender, dancers build.  His features a perfect blend of strong masculinity and delicate femininity.  

The man called Tae simply smiled wider and licked his lips.  “Damnit Tae, you’re cramping my style” he muttered.  He kept his gaze fixated on your face, watching as your eyes widened in obvious confusion.  They both laughed out loud in amusement.  Tae #2 waved over their third, who casually strode over to join them.  He was smaller than his two counterparts, lean muscles flexed as he leaned over the top of the partition directly in front of you.  

“You two are going to make her brain melt if you keep that shit up” he grinned before offering his hand.  “My name is Taeyong.  That asshole is Taehyung, and his sidekick with the dick suckers on his face is Taemin.”

Smiling up at him, you shook his hand.  “Y/N, nice to meet you all.”  

Taehyung leaned in close, his face inches from yours.  “Was that you we heard from the dressing room?  We thought about coming in sooner to enjoy the show, but Taemin thought you and your friend could use some privacy.”

Your blush spread through your entire body.  The fact that you were naked did nothing to hide that fact.  Noticing your reaction, he teased you further.  “Judging by the gigantic smile on his face when he came out, I can only assume he entirely enjoyed himself.”

Taeyong walked over to the pool, stepping in, he called to his two companions.  “Will you two stop strutting around like a couple of idiot peacocks and either ask her to join us or leave her in peace.”

He was joined by Taemin, who draped himself over the side of the pool and extended a hand towards you.  “Why don’t you come join us for a soak.  We won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do.”

Looking between the two in the pool and the one in front of you made your arousal spike.  Wetness flooded between your thighs at the possibilities playing through your mind.  Taehyung took your hand and looked at you with a teasing pout.  “At least come keep us company won't you?”

Allowing yourself to be dragged to your feet, you dumbly followed along behind him.  He helped you to step back into the pool, warm water enveloping your calves.  Taemin took your hand from his friend and guided you to the bench next to him.  Taeyong watched you intently.  “Have you been having fun since you joined The Mansion?”  he asked.  His cat-like gaze following your every move.  

You sat back, eyes glued to his bare chest before sliding up to his face.  It was pretty, sharp but angular.  He saw you watching and winked at you.  The mirror on the wall above the pool was suddenly very interesting.  Smiling softly as you remembered your previous two encounters fondly.  “I haven’t played very much, but I’ve enjoyed myself so far.  What about you three?  How long have you been members?”

“We’ve all been members for about a year.  We all work together and after Taehyung got accepted, we decided to join up as well.  The gym is better than any we’ve been members of.  The scenery is so much better as well.  At least here if we have to look at sweaty bodies, it's not a bunch of meat head dude bro’s and gym bunnies in yoga pants.”

Taemin leaned in closer to you.  His plush lower lip caught between his teeth.  “Do you mind if I rub your shoulders Y/N?  You look tense.”

Catching on the thinly veiled innuendo, you nodded and turned your back to him.  His hands slid up your arms and began kneed the muscles in your neck with gentle pressure.  Taehyung moved in front of you, guided your feet to his lap and began rubbing circles against the sole of your right foot.  “We can relax you more if you want us too” he grinned.  

Taeyong moved to join you, lifting your legs long enough to sit with your thighs draped across his hips.  “As long as you’re okay with it Y/N.  I know these two would absolutely love to play with you.  I want too as well if you want too.”  He trailed his hands over your thighs, rubbing the tense muscles of your quads.  

Your pulse quickened once again, making your breathing erratic as you were overpowered by your crippling need to be touched and filled.  “Yes… I want that.”

Upon receiving your consent, they moved in on you.  Taemin pressed his chest into your back, his lips trailing kisses along the left side of your neck.  Taeyong drew in close, claiming the left side.  Taehyung moved between your thighs, his hand slowly moving up the inside of your leg till his long fingers came to the apex.  He cupped your sex, sliding his fingers through your folds as the heel of his palm rubbed against your clit.  

He groaned huskily as he dipped one digit into your cunt.  “Fuck Y/N, you just got fucked and you’re still this tight?  I can’t wait to see what you’re gonna feel like around my cock.”  

You arched into his touch as Taemin’s hands leisurely fondled your breasts.  “Do you think you can take two of us at once Y/N?”

The sinful way he posed the question made your walls clench around Taehyung’s fingers.  “Yes, I want it” you croaked out.  The overwhelming sensation of being touched everywhere was beginning to overload all reason.  

Taehyung removed his hand and extracated you from the grasp of his friends.  He exited the pool and led you to one of the few waterproof sofas that sat against one wall.  You hadn’t noticed it before, but you had been occupied earlier.  He sat down and spread his thighs. His cock jutted up proudly from between them.  “Would you like to have a seat Y/N?  Your ride awaits if you want to take it.”  

You made to kneel over him, but he stopped you.  He turned you to face the room and guided you backwards.  Placing one leg on either side of his, you gripped his cock and rolled a condom over him.  He let out a moan of pleasure as he felt your pussy welcome him.  Your walls fluttered around him as you sank onto him.  Before you began to ride him, he stopped you again.  Looping an arm under each of your thighs, he held you slightly aloft.  Taemin knelt in front of you and began to kiss up your inner thigh.  His puffy lips found your clit as he fastened over it and sucked.  

At the first clench of your inner muscles, Taehyung began to thrust slowly up into you.  Your entire body went rigid as you fought the urge to move your hips.  Taeyong captured your mouth with his own.  Swallowing down your moans as you were pleasured from every possible angle.  He pulled away for a moment, “Can I use your mouth?”

You nodded and he climbed onto the seat next to you and Taehyung.  Bringing his cock level with your face as you opened wide for him.  He slid into your welcome heat, his breath hissing from between clenched teeth.  Massaging him with your tongue as you hollowed your cheeks.  Sucking him deep into your mouth till the head of his cock nudged against the back of your throat.  

You moaned wantonly at the feeling of being so full.  Taehyung’s delicious cock rubbed against every possible angle of your walls while Taemin’s talented tongue sucked and caressed your tight bundle of nerves.  Taeyong’s length slid slickly over your tastebuds, as he rutted into you.  You squealed in pleasure as Taemin’s fingers slid into the space between you and Taehyung and began to prod at your puckered entrance.  

Popping off of your clit, he smiled wickedly up at you.  “You want a cock here too don't you.”  It was more of a statement than a question.  All you could do was nod dumbly as your body was consumed with pleasure.  

Taehyung pulled you off of him as he repositioned on his back.  Taemin and Taeyong guided you to straddle his thighs, sinking back down on his thick cock.  Taehyung held you still as you felt cool lubrication dribbled between your ass cheeks.  Taemin took his time working his fingers across and into your tight ring of muscle.  He gently stretched you open as he prepared you to accept his cock.  

Setting the bottle of lube aside, he rolled on a condom and positioned himself behind you.  As he gently pressed into you, a new wave of wetness gushed from you, dribbling down around Taehyung’s girth and onto his balls.  The strain of waiting for you get comfortable with accommodating two cocks was taking its toll on him.  Veins protruded from his neck as you clenched around him.  

As you tapped Taemin’s thigh, signaling the okay to move.  He slowly withdrew from you and pushed back in.  You felt impossibly full, as he fucked your ass.  The thin separation of flesh between the two cocks was amazing.  As Taemin thrust, it caused you to move on Taehyung.  

Taehyung gripped your waist forcefully as he fought the urge to cum.  Your walls had been tight, they were now even tighter with the addition of his friend.  “It’s okay, you can cum.  I don’t mind” you gasped as you watched his gorgeous face.  With that, he let go and came hard.  His cock twitched and pulsed within your depths, spilling into his condom.  Overstimulation quickly set in, and he was forced to stop Taemin and climb from under you.  

Taeyong rolled on a condom and took his place.  As you sank down on his friend, Taehyung pulled your head back and kissed you deeply.  “Thank you Y/N. I’m sorry I couldn’t last longer. Next time right?”

Taeyong hissed as you clenched around him.  “Knock off Tae” he gritted out.  “She’s so tight, I don’t know how you lasted as long as you did.”

Taemin roughly grabbed your breasts and bucked his hips into you sharply.  “Enough talk, more fucking.  Let’s see if we can drag another orgasm out of her tonight.” he panted.  The sound of slapping flesh, moans, and breathy sighs filled the room.  Catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror above the pool, you looked entirely fucked out.  Eyes blown wide, filled completely by two cocks as they skillfully worked you towards your end.  

As Taemin’s thrusts began to falter, he increased his speed.  Seeking his own pleasure.  Taeyong fucked you harshly from beneath.  Taehyung watched your face with rapt attention as he felt his cock stir once again.  You fell forward onto your hands over Taeyong.  Taehyung knelt over his friend’s face, as he took your chin in hand.  You immediately opened your mouth and accepted his cock.  

He fisted your hair in his hand, and used your mouth the way he wanted too.  You opened your throat and let him fuck your mouth.  Each thrust from the three cocks sent a jolt of illicit pleasure straight to your core.   Moaning wildly as your mind turned to mush and white heat coursed through your entire body.  Your mind snapped, as your tumbled over the edge of a cataclysmic orgasm.  You came hard, squirting fluids over Taeyong’s dick as you pulsed around him.  

Taemin gripped your hips hard and came right after you.  He pulsed inside of you, emptying his balls into your ass.  It would have been very messy if it weren't for the condom.  Taeyong wasn’t far behind his friend.  Bucking his hips into you from beneath as you milked every drop of milky white fluid from him.  Taehyung emptied himself on your tongue.  Withdrawing himself from your mouth, he quickly kissed you.  Mingling his saliva with yours and his sperm.  Tasting himself on your tongue, he lapped his essence from your mouth.  

The four of you collapsed in a heap.  Taehyung helped Taemin to his feet before assisting you onto shaky feet.  He led you to a shower stool and caressed sweaty hair from your brow.  Taeyong sat up panting.  Discarding his soiled condom before joining the two of you.  Not long after, Taemin sat down to your left. 

“Looks like we have quite a mess to clean up”  Taemin said as he turned a shower wand onto a warm stream and began to gently wash away the fluids from between your thighs.  Taeyong kissed your shoulder gently as Taehyung claimed your lips.  

“Thank you Y/N, if you ever want to play again, you know where to find us.”  Taeyong grinned as he draped a towel over your shoulders.  Taemin kissed your cheek as he helped you to your feet.  Taehyung lightly spanked your ass as they led you to the dressing room.  Passing you to an attendant muttering about how you might need help getting dressed.  

It was the same attendant you met on your first visit.  Jisoo?  Was that her name?  Your mind was still too mushy to process much of anything.  She helped you to dress, even going as far as to dry and brush out your hair.  “Do you need anything else?”

“Yeah… a wheelchair” you joked as she helped you to your feet.  

As you walked down the hall, you passed a handsome man with a sharp angular face.  He gave you a knowing smile as passed by.  His shoulder brushing yours lightly.  “Looks like you’ve had fun.  Maybe you should find me next time you come.  I’d like to get to know you.”