#needing to nurse and grind against big women cock

[tgirlwerewolf]

ooouuugghhhh girls,,, should try snd breed me roughly

[afrowrites]

Your (Super)Man

A Clark x Black! Reader Smallville imagine

Rating: Teen and Up

Word count: 995

Clark Kent, you older brothers best friend and your secret crush takes you to go see linkin park

Notes: I wrote this for a lovely new mutual @justalovelyblackgf Thank you so much for my first ask, here's to many more :))).

“Hey (Y/N),” Your favorite tall and handsome older brother’s best friend asks you, “I was wondering something.” 

You look at him quizzically “What?”

“I don’t know what it is but, it just surprises me that one of the prettiest girls I know has never dated,” he joked. Your cheeks heat up, you remember before that during a game of truth or dare you tell your class you never dated. There wasn’t really a chance to, you lived in the middle of nowhere smallville. Your choices were slim to none and when you’re black your dating pool is that much smaller.

“Well I mean it’s like no big deal, I plan on dating when I’m twenty-five,” you answered honestly, 

“That’s a real shame because I have two great front row tickets to go see linkin park.” 

You immediately start gushing “OH MY GOD, Clark how did you get these,” “I had a little help.” He winks. 

Clark is an all america salt of the earth good boy, but for whatever reason he was still a complete mystery to you. Maybe it was the allure of him being Pete’s best friend. But his kindness was certainly known to you.  When you had sprained your ankle in p.e he carried you to the nurses office. When you wanted to join a club he welcomed you into the journalism club. He has the most beautiful eyes and gorgeous lips that you just wanna- wait you're getting a bit ahead of yourself. 

“I’ll pick you up around six, That ok?” he cocks his head to the side when he asks you, looking sweet as ever.

“It’s a date.” you smile sweetly,

~You're getting ready (sorry I didn’t have a good transition for this)

You popped in your Destiny’s Child cd and started your I’m going on a date with the hottest guy I know outfit and makeup. But it’s linkin park so you wear a super cute navy blue baby tee with gray sleeves and some low rise flares, some midi gold hoops and a small gold necklace to go with it. 

“Y/N He’s outside.” Pete yells at you.

“Oh my gosh!”,You mumble under your breath. Then you yell “TELL HIM I’M NOT FINISHED”. 

“That’s a shame because you look perfect to me.  What else could you do?” he leans against the doorframe, shyly eyeing you.

“Oh God, h-hey clark,” You were spooked by him. “C’mon tiger, let’s go.” he nods his head towards the door.

“And uh, Bring Destiny we need something to do while I drive.” He winks.

You roll your eyes as you slip on your shoes.

He opens the passenger side of his dads red pickup truck, you’re a little short getting in so he takes your hand and gently lifts you up onto the seat. The warmth of his hand is electric in your palm. 

“Thanks,” you smile. He smiles back “No problem.” Like a man who’s just seen the stars.

The drive is fun as you two sing to Independent women, “You know everyone’s favorite is Beyonce but I’m a Kelly fan myself.” 

“Of course you are.” You chuckle softly.

You both get to the venue, hordes of half drunk teenagers line up to see the main event.

The opening acts start as you start jumping around enjoying the music, and suddenly you feel a set of hands around your waist. No they weren’t clarks hands like you would have liked. You smelled cheap beer on your neck. 

“Hey!” You immediately turned to see some acne-faced guy with frosted tips start grinding on you, “Cmon, babe I know girls like you like this stuff.” 

“Hey man, you need to back off!” Clark is steaming mad, “Look man your girl is fine you need to learn how to share.” 

Before Clark can even get a punch in, the guy is immediately on the ground. “For your information, his girl won’t be shared with anyone.” you spat, “So go take a long walk off a short pier.”

The crowd around you ooh’s an ahh’s, Until the main event finally came. Chester speaks to the crowd “Hey we just wanted to let y’all know that creeps are not allowed to any of our concerts, that being said will the pretty lady with the braids c’mon stage.”

“Oh My God, Clark he wants me!!!” You scream in his ear. “Well go up there pretty lady.” 

So there you were on stage dancing with Linkin Park, and Clark can only see your shining face, and cocoa butter skin. He sees your smile that’s brighter than any stage light in this whole place. 

Later you both go back to his car, and you both talk about the whole ordeal the whole time. However, it starts to rain hard.

“You know if your parents are ok with it, Ms and Pa would love to have you over?”, “Well you know I don’t like getting my hair wet so sure.”

You called your parents and reluctantly your father agreed, but in black dad fashion he made you promise to sleep on the couch and stay six feet away from Clark. 

He even called his parents who were fine with it, and after Martha warmed you up a nice cup of tea. You settled on the couch and thanked his parents goodnight. And as they went to bed before you could even close your eyes you hear.

“Hey,” it’s his whisper that startled you, “Wanna see my room?”

You obliged of course “So what is so great about clarks roo-” He cuts you off with a sweet kiss, “I’m sorry I really wanted to do that all night.” He sheepishly smiles.

But you don’t care, instead you go in for your turn deep and passionate, and then suddenly you wake up in a blue t-shirt with warm arms wrapped around you. And you didn’t know it yet, but you had just fallen in love with the man of steel.

[thecandywrites]

Of Heaven and Fire Chapter 19 Finale Epilogue.

Woo, it’s been way too long. But I have other projects that got in the way and I had this all figured out and an outline written up and then...the go juice ran out. UNTIL TODAY. So, after way too long, finally. We have the finale to this story that will also segway into a campanion piece that takes place at the very same time Heaven and Fire takes place, actually about six months earlier, but half a world away, on the other end of orc country that takes up practically a whole continent in my made up world. 

Also behold, that gorgeous brunette, THAT is the OG The Original Audravienne, the one that Audra in Blood For Gold is named after. So think of it as Suchi and Stormbreaker are on the west coast and Yekmeni would be the east coast, different ocean, different ocean coastline. 

And so in this fantasy world- you mix mouras with jade green orcs- you get aqumarine orcs. You mix moura with Yekmeni orcs that are a dark and drab olive green with dark brown splotches- and they are born looking exactly like their orc parents but as toddlers change to look kashmire blue in place of olive green and bright amethyst intense purple in place of brown. So then they got nicknamed paradise orcs, because they have the same coloring as birds of paradise, you mix aquamarine orcs and paradise orcs-you get PEACOCK ORCS that also get called paradise orcs. The Aquamarine goes to turquoise and teal, just like a peacock, with the same splashes of kashmire sapphire blue and amethyst purple. But that’s another story all together. I’ll get to it. Eventually. 

Of Heaven and Fire 

Part 19

A week later, you woke up to Brock’s hard cock pressing at your rear as he spooned you. 

It’s been more than long enough for you to heal and recover from Brive’s birth and your first thought is you needed to reconnect with Brock on this most physical intimate level. Most women take three to four months to recover from a birth before they can have sex again comfortably. Moura women and especially moura mated women who have a moura husband to help heal them from the birth, that gets whittled down to barely a month. And it’s been a month and a half for you. 

You looked down at Brive as he slept away the morning, his blond hair growing fast in gorgeous blonde curls. His mint green skin that had more aquamarine notes to it the older he got was a beautiful mix of your pale ivory and Brock’s emerald green. Even though he is only a month and a half old, he has doubled in size thanks to your milk and he has fat rolls for days, which is the sign of supreme health for all babies. 

You gently moved Brive farther away from you and make sure he’s perfectly covered and warm. The fireplace in the bedroom is ever burning- keeping the room toasty warm while you can watch the snow fly outside. 

Your movement stirred Brock and his arm reflexively tightened around you and your backside was then pressed into his front as he woke up and now that Brive is far enough away that your movements won’t disturb Brive, you ground your ass against Brock’s cock to see if you can stir him awake, which worked to a degree because Brock growled a grunting moan as he started to wake up before he seemed to become aware of himself and moved his hips back so that his morning wood isn’t touching you anymore. 

“Sorry Babe.” He apologized sleepily. 

“Bring it back.” You whined as you started scooting backwards towards him to feel it again. 

“You’re still healing.” Brock gently argued as he rolled onto his back and stretched out just as Brive did the same in his sleep before you quickly rolled over him so you straddled him, your night clothes vanishing in an instant as you sit up onto his belly and braced your hands on his chest which made him open his eyes as he blinked and frowned in confusion at you.

“Moura women usually take 3-4 weeks to heal from birth. It's been 6 weeks. I’m more than healed. Please Babe, I haven’t had sex in the last 7 months, if you don’t fuck me senseless right now I’ll go mad.” You pleaded as you stared down at him and could feel his cock tap at your behind again, he was as hard as a rock and you wanted him so bad it hurt. 

“Are you sure?” He asked, even though you could see the desire burn behind his eyes but he was absolutely insistent that he would never, ever hurt you again before you gave him a meaningful look and canted your hips back so that his cock fell towards his belly then set your pelvis down so that your pussy laid over his length and rocked back so that your lips engulfed the underside of his cock as you rubbed yourself from the tip to the base, your own essence making it glide almost effortlessly and watched as Brock’s eyes threatened to roll back into his head while the head of his cock spurted precum onto his belly. 

“I’m sure. Please Baby.” You begged and you saw him cave. 

“If anything hurts, you stop me immediately, got it?” He insisted. 

“Promise.” You vowed before you got into position and slowly eased down onto him, both of you breathing out a breath of relief in being rejoined as he looked up at you questioningly. 

“Nothing hurts, it feels so fucking good.” You confessed as your grin grew giddy as his did the same as you felt him dig his heels into the bed and begin to push up into you as you saw the hunger in his eyes grow before you fell into what was once a familiar rhythm but yet it felt new all the same before milk started to drip from your nipples and he was sitting up in an instant to lick it up. 

“Good?” You couldn’t help but giggle as he started to wrap his mouth around your breasts and suck in earnest before he hummed in confirmation before he moved from one to the other as you sighed happily and contentedly as you leaned back to give him room to do as he pleased before you removed his mouth from your chest to gather you closer and start kissing you as you could taste the rich sweetness on his tongue as he devoured you whole. 

“Gods I missed you,” he confessed in your ear as his hips hiked up into yours as your body rocked against his. 

“I missed you too.” You mirrored earnestly. 

“I’m just...so sorry I made you wait.” Brock began to apologize and you could tell he was getting choked on emotion again. 

“Hey, hey, don’t, don’t start this again? Ok? We’ve been through this, I forgive you. No more beating yourself up. It’s enough. We can’t go back and change it. We can only change now. And right now- is all that matters.” You insisted as you held his handsome face in your hands and looked into his eyes earnestly as you could see his eyes start to shine with tears. 

“No more hurt. Only pleasure.” You repeated as you grinded down onto him for emphasis before you kissed him hungrily and passionately as all the pent up feelings over the last year came to a head and you lost yourself in the passion as did he and it wasn’t until you came down from your respective releases when you heard a giggling coo before you looked over to see Brive fully awake and giggling from his spot nearby which made you and Brock both start laughing as you untangled from Brock to go to your son as you pulled him closer. 

“Well good morning Brive, did you sleep well?” You cooed to him as you laid down on your side and put him to your breast so he could eat his breakfast which he was all too happy to do, nursing and smiling up at you and Brock who cuddled his back as Brock combed Brive’s hair with his fingers as he stared down adoringly at Brive. 

“He’s getting so big.” Brock murmured. 

“He is, because he nurses just as fast as I can make the milk.” You grinned as you laid on your side and let Brive use your arm as his pillow while he nursed and in near record time, he had drained one breast and was ready to drain the other before you put him to your chest and rolled with him so that you could lay on your other side and let him nurse from that one as Brock cuddled into your back and rested his head on yours as he nuzzled the juncture of your neck and shoulder, pressing soft sweet kisses to every bit of you his mouth could reach. 

“I love you, thank you so much for... everything.” Brock thanked you. 

“You’re welcome. Love you too.” You cooed as you kissed his cheek affectionately and once Brive had nursed till he was full and had almost completely drained your other breast of milk, did he detach his mouth with a pop and smile happily up at both you and Brock. 

“Ok, my turn.” Brock insisted as he reached over you and got his son and picked him up and cooed to him and kissed him all over before he brought him over to a changing table and changed Brive’s diaper while you slipped out of bed and went to the bathroom, grateful that Brock was so involved and helped with everything he could with Brive and you could tell Brock loved Brive dearly and once you two were ready, you went from your bedroom to the kitchen to prepare breakfast together. 

Come spring Brock was unusually busy getting ready for the spring equinox festival since the lunar new year was the greatest celebration to date and Brock wanted the spring equinox to be even bigger and better than the lunar new year. Brock turned so much gold himself for it and saw to most of the details himself, which you didn’t mind. Your biggest hurdle was making clothes for Brive who was growing so fast and his moura cloak was coming in really beautifully but it would still be a few years at least before he learned to control it and it felt like you were sewing all day every day and you felt like you spent a fortune just in fabrics and needles and threads but Brive could wear a burlap sack and look adorable and all who saw him thought he was the most handsome baby boy any of them had ever seen and whenever Brock was around he was all too happy to insist that Brive got all his good looks from you but you could see the unmistakable resemblance Brive had with his father. 

When it was time for the feast Brock had you dress in a special dress he had commissioned for you from a group of seamstresses that had settled in Drauch. You felt like a queen wearing it. It was brightly colored and almost every inch of it was embroidered and it even had the prettiest jewels sewn into the fabric. You didn’t want to think about what it must have cost him. But you honored him enough to wear it with immense pride especially when Brive had a matching outfit and even Brock’s outfit was similar, but not as fancy. With how hard he usually worked, you wondered if he was afraid he’d get it dirty or something. Brock escorted you to the main feasting tent and you graciously sat in the seat of honor which was in all realities, basically a couch at the head table with lots of cushions so that it was exceedingly comfortable to prop yourself up and Brive up as you noticed your entire extended family had come for this as they took their seats around you and all the married ones were showing baby bumps or their own little ones since they had gotten pregnant shortly after you did. 

“Brock? Aren’t you sitting with me?” You asked when he had you sit down but he moved to leave. 

“I gotta take care of something first.” He excused himself before he left, leaving you looking on curiously as Brive was all too happy it sit in your lap and watch what was going on with bright excited eyes as you noticed almost all the women around you who weren’t in your family were also sporting baby bumps or their own little ones along with before Brock took center stage in the tent and got everyone’s attention. 

“I would like to thank everyone for coming today to feast on behalf of not just the equinox, the sewing of the fields- which was just completed a few days ago but also to celebrate my official proposal dinner to the most beautiful, goddess divine to swim in the seas, walk the face of the world and fly in the skies.” He gestured to you as you blushed but smiled adoringly at him. 

“And I’m sure we’ve all heard the legends..” Brock began before he very elaborately and dramatically retold what had happened in the last year as you and your family and all your friends all laughed almost hysterically at most of it as Brock used every tiny little opportunity to praise you and practically sing your praises. 

“And that is why, I would like you all for coming to my surprise betrothal feast for such an amazing goddess!” Brock announced as your eyebrows rose in surprise as your jaw dropped as everyone else cheered excitedly. 

“What?” You asked as you bounced Brive in your lap as the real feast was then brought out as you realized what all of you had been grazing on before had just been appetizers before suddenly things seemed to fall into place. Your whole family and all your friends were here, they were all seated around the giant tent along with everyone in the clan and you notice that it’s Brock’s captains and generals that are the servers and it’s the men who are serving the women and the families which was a refreshing change of pace and you were drinking your favorite drinks and eating your favorite foods as Brock then left and brought into the arena in the middle of the tent- his betrothal gifts and you were shocked when they were all new, you had never seen any of them before as you started crying tears of happiness when each and every single one was actually really thought out and you could tell that Brock put so much effort into all of them. And it wasn’t just gifts for you, there were gifts for Brive and all your other future children with him and you couldn’t be happier about that and your smile was brighter than the sun and you and especially his family were practically glowing with pride. 

“So, do you Benyana Auksa, accept by betrothal?” Brock eagerly asked. 

“Yes.” You happily answered before you happily got up and kissed him which caused everyone to cheer. 

“Wanna get married?” Brock asked when you broke for air.  

“Yes!” You answered. 

“Right now?” Brock asked which made you bust up laughing. 

“Right now? Right now, right now?” You asked. 

“Yeah, I have a wedding dress for you and everything.” Brock informed you. 

“You do not.” You laughed, in disbelief.

“Yeah, it should be back in the house. I had the seamstresses look through all your other clothes and what you usually turn your moura cloak into to get a gage on your tastes and then your mom and your brothers and sisters helped put different elements to it.” Brock confessed as you gasped and stared at your family as all your siblings were giggling gleefully while your mother was looking pleased as punch. 

“Let’s do it!” You readily agreed before you and Brive and all your siblings and friends happily got up and all of you practically running to your house and going inside it as your mother followed closely behind to get Brive from you while your dad had your baby sister as you walked in to see your wedding dress already laid out as you just started crying and laughing at the same time, not knowing how it was possible to be this happy. But you were. 

It was hands down the most beautiful wedding dress you had ever seen in your life. It had all of your own benar, that you had cried that first night that Brock had captured you. It seemed like a lifetime ago by now and you noticed they were sewn into the sweetheart neckline. You eagerly stripped out of your clothes and your siblings helped you get dressed first before they too dressed in their own clothes that had been prepared for this that matched what had been made for you. 

And it all felt so surreal but you were trying to memorize every single moment. What started off as the beginnings of a the spring equinox festival turned into an impromptu wedding feast and celebration as your siblings brought priests from every realm to make a sacred document so that it was recognized the whole world wide that you were married and mated with Brock before you finally got to exchange moura cloak collars as Brocks’ collar had to shrink down to fit your neck while yours had to grow a little wider to encompass his neck before the two seemed to form a link between them so that they both took on the traits of the other so now the two matched in both style and aesthetic, making something altogether new and different and unique. It was so much more than you ever thought to expect or want. It was perfect. 

Fifteen years later

“Thanks mom.” Brive thanked you as as he held one of younger siblings and tried to feed them and himself at the same time as you passed out all the portions of pepper crab to all of your kids as Drauch had come to Suchi for another summer solstice celebration as you were wearing another silver belt that had a long tether to the rest of your smaller children while your elder children all had silver bracelets, all of them matching before you were approached by Warchief Lukher and Warchieftess Audravienne and all of their children from Yekmeni which was just on the other side of the continent to the east as they had flown in since Audravienne had come as a moura bride from the stables to Warchief Lukher 17 years prior and themselves had started a large family and their union and the other unions that followed from mouras who married into this particular clan of orcs saw a new kind of orc become born, orcs who had become known as paradise orcs. Because as toddlers they changed from dark olive green with splashes of dark brown to royal blue with bright purple splashes, like a peacock’s feathers or other birds of paradise. 

“Audrey!” You greeted her as you hugged her tight as Lukher and Brock hugged too. 

“Yana! It’s so good to see you!” She greeted you sweetly and excitedly. 

“Oh my goodness is this Brive? Oh my goodness, look how you’ve grown!” Lukher praised Brive as he measured Brive, trying to see how much taller he was than him as Brive came up to his chest already as Brive smiled bashfully as he did his best to stand as tall as he could in the face of Lukher’s praise almost as much as he was happy to see Audravienne’s son Ahi-Shumai who had been his friend since infancy and was trying not to be too awkward to see Ahi’s sister Monrhi who was only a year younger than him and good friends with his own younger sister Brilanni as the two girls were quickly talking and sharing food and complementing each other on their clothes which were their own moura cloaks as they quickly picked up details about the other’s clothes and then began to mimic each other as Brilanni had the same coloring that Brive and all their siblings had, they had the same bright aquamarine coloring and blonde hair as Brive and Brilanni as Ahi was in a similar state that Brive was in as he was trying not to swoon too hard at the sight of Brilanni again because she was still the prettiest girl he had ever seen in his life as Audrey’s sister Maisara and her husband came over with all of their kids before they retreated to Drauch where there was more room since the streets were getting almost overcrowded as they had someone with a big messengerari take a picture of all of them together as something of an extended friends and family picture as they continued to eat the fare offered on Drauch for the summer solstice. 

“God, I swear Drauch makes the best fried fish.” Audrey praised as she happily bit into the large fried fish on a skewer. 

“Yeah they do. Don’t forget to get a bite of the pepper crab.” You reminded her as you ate beside her, taking the special leg of king crab out of its shell and dipping it into the amazing sauce the vendor made. 

“Oh how could I?” Audrey answered between bites before she looked up to see Brive trying to feed Monrhi. 

“I think we have a little romance going on.” Audrey teased you. 

“Between Brilanni and Ahi? Oh only since they were two.” You teased back. 

“Wait what?” Audrey asked before she looked to her own eldest son to see him doing the same thing that Brive was doing by feeding Monrhi the peppered crab leg. 

“Wait, which kids were you talking about?” You asked her. 

“Brive and Monrhi.” Audrey said as you looked then blinked as you looked from one to the other. 

“Well I’ll be blessed.” You laughed as she did the same before you snapped your fingers softly to get Brock’s attention and Brock and Lukher were talking very animatedly about griffins. 

“Yeah?” Brock said when he noticed you were trying to get his attention before you nodded over to where Brive and Monrhi were talking and eating and feeding each other as Audrey used sign language to Lukher to look over at his son and daughter- Ahi and Monrhi before they both looked over and started laughing and then teasing each other about it. 

“Well I hope one of them works out, just for pure curiosity because if their colors meld, then they’ll really look like peacocks.” Audrey mused. 

“They would.” You had to smile fondly. 

“To peacock orcs then.” You offered as you offered your cup of wine up to toast with hers. 

“To peacock orcs.” Audrey laughed as she toasted her glass with yours. 

The End.

[notyetneedcoffee]

How 'bout jealous!Bucky?

Just a little something...

This Dance Is Mine

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Smut

Classic funk pulsed throughout the penthouse party room in Stark Tower. A tight group of bodies bounced and flowed, dancing to the groove. Small groups gathered around the bar and sofas, talking over the music and drinking. Tony always threw a good party, but being Sam Wilson’s birthday, the two added a little extra something.

Girls in 1970’s hot-shorts danced on tables. They were guests, not entertainment. The bartenders served up a decade appropriate cocktails; tequila sunrises, green hornets, pina coladas and harvey wallbangers. Shag carpets, mirror balls, and club lighting added to the vibe.

Leaning on the bar, nursing a couple glasses of Thor’s special Asgardian brew, Steve and Bucky watched the birthday boy on the dance floor. In the middle of a knot of bodies, he happily ground his hips into whichever lady happen to be there. Steve chuckled, “It’s not really the Lindy, is it?”

Bucky grumbled his response into his glass, taking another swig of the strong liquor. He did not find it so entertaining.

You felt the sweat roll down your spine as you gyrated between Natasha and Sam. Your arm was slung over Nat’s shoulder, your front to her back. Sam’s hand’s guides the train of hips, his rolling into yours and yours into hers. The rhythm would change and you would break apart only to find another partner.

Bucky ground his teeth together, watching you move. The low-slung jeans clung to you like a second skin. Worse, the sequins halter top let your breasts sway and showed your entire bare back, glistening with sweat. One tie, a single flimsy string held that shiny silver excuse for a top in place.

“Buck!” The back of Steve’s hand hit chest.

“What?”

Cap leaned closer. “You just gonna stare or are you ever actually going to ask Y/N out?”

The scowl marring Bucky’s brow actually caused two approaching women to divert their approach to the bar. He tore his eyes off your dancing form, instead studying the liquid in his glass. The last thing he wanted was another lecture on how you wouldn’t spit in his face if he just told you he was interested. Steve didn’t know shit.

“Bucky,” Steve threw an arm around his friend’s shoulder. “I think you need to go for it. You don’t want to miss your chance. I mean, you’re the one suffering here. Look at her, man. She’s having a great time.”

You danced between two friends of Sam’s from the VA, ex-soldiers, well built, and no bad looking. Hips grinding in little circles, head thrown back and delighted smile on your face, Bucky wanted to break both their necks for being so close to you.

He downed the last of his drink.

“You should go dance with her.” Steve teased. He wouldn’t usually push Buck quite so hard, but the Asgardian booze may have had something to do with it.

“Who are we talking about?” Natasha sudden landed on the bar beside Bucky’s other shoulder. Neither saw her come up behind the bar.

“No one.”

“Y/N.”

They answered at the same time.

“Yes,” Nat grinned wickedly, leaning in close. “Go wrap those big arms around her and show her how it’s done”

“Fuck off!” Bucky violently shrugged them both off.

It caught your attention. Still moving with the music you looked at pissed off Bucky. Nat and Steve laughed behind him. Damn it. Why would they tease him? Getting him to a party was a big enough win. His blue eyes locked with yours. He froze. You smiled, angling your body directly toward him. On the beat your hips rocked and shoulders rolled. His eyes softened, and he took one step forward.

Tall buzz cut dude dancing behind you put one hand on your hip, falling into time with you.

You watched Bucky’s eyes go murderous. His fists clenched.

No, shit. Your mind practically exploded. Steve was right. You body flushed from more than the dancing. He didn’t move, though. He just stared, body taunt.

Making a decision, you danced your way to the edge of the group. The guys you were dancing with followed you. You smiled. Bucky’s jaw clenched. Your eyebrow rose in challenge, hip still bumping in time with the funk tunes.

One of the guys rocked up to your side, looking as if he would pull you even closer. Bucky moved so fast, he was just suddenly there. Pulling you away by wrapping an arm around your waist and physically lifting you into his arms, you suddenly found yourself nose to nose with him.

Bucky set you on your feet, leaving his right arm around your waist, palm pressed to your lowered back. Both your hands slid over his black dress shirt to his neck, fingers running through his soft hair. So soft. You’d always wanted to do it.

He moved you on the longer beat, still dancing just not as fast. Only with Bucky, there was no question who you were dancing with. Eye’s locked on yours, arm pressing your body tight to his, no one else existed.

“Hey pal,” The buzz cut guy started to say, but Bucky cut him off with a look.

“Not a chance in hell,” Bucky growled. “Dollface is with me.”

The guy backed off.

Head tipped back, you studied Bucky’s face as he watched the other man back off. When his eyes fell back to yours the intensity remained, only shifting from aggression to desire. One corner of your mouth tipped up. “Is that so?”

“Couldn’t watch you out here, movin’ like that, and those guys paws all over you.” He breathed. The hand on you back moved along your bare skin. His left hand, cool and smooth, rested on your waist. You breasts pressed into his chest. The air felt thick.

“You laying a claim, Barnes?” Your tongue wet your lips. Fuck his mouth was gorgeous.

He leaned closer, breath hot against your ear. “Either had to come take you for myself, or I’d have to rip their arms off.”

A shiver ran down your body.

Bucky growled, noticeably hardening against you. “Fuck, Doll, I felt that. You like the idea of me takin’ you?”

“In so many ways,” you purred.

His nose grazed along the sensitive skin from beneath your ear to your temple. Lips brushing against your ear, he breathed. “Don’t tease like that.”

“Who’s teasing?” Your fingers traced along his beard stubbled jaw.

Bucky turned, dragging you behind him. He wove through guests and tables, not stopping for calls or questioning glances. Once in the quiet hall, he spun to pin you against the wall. Hands slipping beneath the halter to grab you by your bare ribcage. Leaning close, you could taste the liquor on his breath.

“I’m serious, Doll. Don’t tease me.” His breath heavy. “I need to know if you’re just playing with me or if you really want to be my girl.”

“Wanted it for a long time.” You started to smile, but his lips captured yours. Without delicate preamble, the kiss was desperate, hard. Tongues lapping, twirling against each other’s, you melted into him. Fuck he could kiss.

Bucky groaned, biting at your lip before placing his forehead against yours. “Watching you move, Doll. Amazing. But every time one of those bastard close, every time they touched you, it drove me crazy.”

You pushed yourself against his hard muscular form. The heat radiated off him like fire. His flesh hand rubbing into the bare flesh of your back. Bucky’s mouth nipped along the cord of your neck, causing you moan. His low voice poured over you, flooding your core. “For months, wanted to touch you. Need to taste you. Every time you wrestled with Clint or hung on Sam, it drove me mad.”

“Buck,” Your right leg hitched over his hip as he ground into you. “I don’t want waste any more time. Oh shit, that feels so good. We were stupid.”

His strong hands lifted you by the ass, pressing you to the wall. His tongue tastes the drying sweat on your skin. “Should have done something about it long ago.”

“Need you.”

He growled in response to your words, walking you down the hall. You weren’t sure how you got to his room. Bucky carried you, kissing nibbling his way over your neck and devouring your mouth on the elevator. Not bothering with the lights, he carried you straight to his bedroom.

Bucky sat back, leaving you straddling him. “This fucking thing,” he tugged at the tie of your halter.

“This?” You shimmied your shoulders, making your breasts sway.

He pulled slowly. “You look so fucking sexy in this thing.” The material fell away exposing your skin to his touch. Bucky’s hands explored your flesh, fingers teasing and pinching at your nipples. Flipping you onto your back, he loomed above you on all fours, attacking you with open mouth kisses and teeth.

You tugged at his shirt, pulling it over his head. Fingers trailed over solid muscle. So fucking hot. Bucky lifted up on his knees, capturing your hands and holding them over your head in one hand. His other hand went to the zipper of your jeans.

“I’m going show just what it mean to be my girl.” Bucky blue eyes held such intensity. “You leave your hands right there, Doll.”

He stripped off the rest of your clothes and then his own. You looked up as he stood, looking down at you, stroking his heavy cock. You cunt clenched at the sight. Bucky spread your legs, digging his fingers into your thighs.

“Fuck, look at that beautiful pussy.” His fingers slid your folds. “All mine now, Doll.” He slid a finger in, then two, making you whimper. Curling his fingers against your g spot you he pumped harder, making your pant. Your hands reached for him, but he growled. “No, you are not to move.”

Then his mouth was on your clit, hot and sucking. Heat spread through your core, tension building. Your toes curled. Lapping and sucking, he pushed you closer to the edge. The sight of him buried between your legs, blue eyes looking up at you, so fucking good. You shook. “Oh shit, Bucky!”

Smiling wickedly, he crawled up your body. Nipping your hip, sucking your breast hard, he finally kissed the breath from you. “You taste so damn good, Doll.”

You smiled against his mouth, reaching for his hair.

“Tsk-tsk.” Bucky’s hand rested on your throat. “No moving.”

Your heart rate jumped, and he noticed. Bucky loomed over you, lip twitching up. “Really?” His grip tightened. “You dirty girl. Fuck, you’re perfect for me.”

“Yes.”

He pulled you up, growling. “On you knees.”

Flipped over, ass in the air, Bucky held you by the hair. Metal hand, cool and smooth, traced over your back. “When those men touched you here, I wanted to break their arms.” He growled. “Mine.”

His hand slapped down across your ass. You gasped. He slipped a finger over your wet pussy. “So wet. Just for me.”

“Yes.”

Smack! You quivered. His finger dipped into your cunt. Wack! He spanked the other cheek. “Look at that. You’re just dripping for me.” Smack!

“Fuck!” You buried your face in the mattress. “Please!”

He pulled your head back, hand fisted in your hair. “Please, what?”

“Please fuck me.” Your breath caught when hit bit down on your shoulder. “Bucky, oh shit.”

“You want my cock in you.” His fingers pumped into you again.

“Yes.”

You felt him rub the tip of cock against your opening. Rocking back, he grabbed you roughly by the hips, holding you firm. “Tell me your mine, my girl.”

“Yes, Buck. Your girl.”

Bucky sunk his cock in you with one powerful thrust. Your breath rushed out. So intense. So full. He pounded hard. You growled and and groaned with him. His fingers wound into your hair, arching you back. His fingers found your nipple, pinching, sending shocks of sensation to your cunt.

“Oh shit.” You panted. “So close.”

“Not yet.” Bucky growled, pulling out. You whined. He slammed into you again, and again, and again.

He moved away, flipping you onto your back again. Bucky pushed your legs wide apart. He lightly slapped your pink and swollen mound, causing you to gasp. “So fucking pretty.”

Bucky sunk his cock in you, slowly, watching your face. His thumb swept over your sensitive clit. He felt you quiver around him. He moved harder, faster. The tension coiled. Skin slapped against skin. Your fingers dug into the sheets.

“Bucky!”

He swallowed your cry in a wet and messy kiss. His hips grinding into yours as the orgasm quivered through your body. Hot breath washed over your neck, teeth biting at your shoulder. Bucky’s arms wrapped under your shoulders, giving him leverage to fuck into you.

Your hands found his hair, long and soft, his shoulders, one with muscles flexing and the other cool and hard. Legs wrapping around him, hips curving up to meet his, you moved in rhythm with him. “Oh shit, Buck. Wanted this for so long.”

“Yes.” He growled. “Wanted you. Fuck. Need you. Oh, shit.”

“Buck, I’m gonna…”

“Ah, fuck!” His hips snapped, pushing into you hard as you came apart around him. He growled jerking as he emptied himself. You held him to you, breathing hard and not want to lose the weight of him. His lips ghosted over your neck.

He rolled to one side, both of you sighing at the loss as his cock slid from you. Pulling you against him, he buried his nose in your hair. You both smelled of sweat and sex, your body relaxed and sore. Damn, he felt amazing.

“We you really that jealous of those guys on the dance floor?” You traced your fingertips over his abs.

“I saw red.” He played with your hair.

“They’re just guys on the dance floor.”

“I know.” He sighed. “I was just kicking myself for not doing anything about you. I’ve wanted you to be my girl for a long time, just too damn stupid to do anything about it.”

You giggled lightly, burying your face into his chest.

“What?”

“It’s silly.”

“Tell me.” You could hear the smile in his voice.

“I’ve always hated terms like girlfriend, but when you say ‘my girl’, I really like it.”

“Good.” Bucky kissed your hair. “Because after tonight, I’m calling you my girl all the time.”

[honestsycrets]

Bridal Price VII: Everything Changes

↳ vikings universe

❛ pairing | hvitserk/reader

❛ word count | 2824

❛ genre | angst and some humor

❛ summary | Vaði helps hvitserk woo his wife.

❛ warnings | pathetic hvitserk, break ups, some violence, character death, flames, probably toasty hvitserk

His heart felt as empty as it ever had. Yes, he drowned his sorrows in a pitcher of booze. Women… they just didn’t appeal to him like they used to. Before he would have gladly fallen into any woman’s arms, fat or thin, regardless of the circumstance after a break up. It had officially been months and months of begging and asking you to take him back.

Day in and out he nursed this tiresome headache pulsing like an axe to the front of his head. In fact just like the time that Ivar ran his ass down with his wagon. At least he grew into that painful little scar in the middle of his forehead where he took a sharp rock. Here it was as if his heart was in a constant split.

“I can’t do this anymore.” Revna grinds against his arm, those luscious tits he bragged so much about against his muscles. God, she was beautiful with those big tits he could usually fuck his worries into. But after the fuck she would go on her way to the next man like clockwork. She pours him another cup.

“You’re just drunk.” She rolls her doe like eyes at him.

“It’s not because I’m drunk.” He slurs, but confidently so as he throws back another cup of ale. Then yanking his arm from her, he sneers to her. “I fucking love her and I lost her in a sea of fucking pussy.”

Revna bats her eyelashes at him as unmoved as they come. She calmly takes his cup from him, filling herself his drink. “You lost her because you’re a dumbass.” Revna takes the ale in one long drink, narrowing her eyes at him. “It’s no wonder you’re the least special out of Ragnar’s sons.”

As she slams the cup onto the heavy oak table, Hvitserk’s lip is tight between his teeth. She had a point-- he was a dumbass. Who would turn down a beautiful woman like her? Hvitserk, obviously. As he shoves the plate off of his table, he could have seen the look on his mother’s face. How she would rush out, stop and then drop her arms in disappointment. Figures shift before him and he’s so sure that it is his mother standing in front of him. But when he looks up, its nothing of the sort.

“You should have kept her.” The man’s voice, buttery. “She could have made a good wife with the two of you cheating upon one another anyway.”

In place of his mother, Vaði stood there with his broad shoulders covered by a dirty brown fur. A drawn out sigh creeps out from Hvitserk’s lips.

“She’s not the right one.” He says.

“Now we care about the right one?” Vaði straightens out the fur on his shoulders. In his wrong mind, he questions how bad it would really be to crack his axe into the earl’s gut. After a brief, silent stint he decides to press on.

“Talk short, why are you here?” He reasons that enough men and women alike have come to take pity on his wounded heart. Vaði might also, dropping his hand to the pommel of his sheathed blade.

“To tell you (Y/N) is looking at her suitors. Geir and I too.”

His heart pangs with longing. God he longed for the days that he did not have to worry about such things. Why? Because you only had eyes for him and no one more. He lacks a response yet again. Vaði takes his silence as a sign of defeat.

“I thought you would want to fight for her.” He adds.

Hvitserk looks up to Vaði with a deadpan stare, squeezing and loosening his hand. It was his fault that he had lost his woman. Him and that stupid fur on his shoulders that had the women fawning and curiously gossiping about how his pants fit his cock.

“I have been fighting for months.” Hvitserk arrogantly nods his head in distaste. It wasn’t enough that he had been fighting you to not slam that door into his face but now, Vaði thought that he was not trying at all? Which was the greater insult? “She wants nothing to do with me. I would better try to awaken Gunnhild from her slumber.”

“If that is what you want.” Vaði sways, taking a step toward the doorway of the Great Hall. His last chance is walking out that door and against his pride, he lurches his hand out to grab Vaði’s wrist. Three times-- she turned him down more than three times. He couldn’t count the threats he had gotten. But if swallowing his pride and claiming that Vaði approached him about reclaiming your love rather than stalking you was reason enough, he’d take it.

“Wait.” He calls out, almost falling off of the bench. “Please, I need your help.”

Vaði turns, never comfortable with making a prince beg. He stands with his legs slightly apart, listening to the prince whose desperation hit a peak.

“She won’t listen to me alone. I’m desperate.” He manages to swing his legs over the side of the bench. Hvitserk places his elbows on his thighs before speaking yet again. “Help me get her back.”

“That is why I came.”

If it wasn’t him, you were picky.

Your bridal price was set purposefully high. After all, it was these hands that Hvitserk admired. You spun rich garments of beautiful hue and… if nothing else, you learned how to make love to a man. All you needed to do was be with child and that any good man would be able to set within your empty womb.

“What of the blacksmith?” Your eldest sister asks, her golden hair pinned up and covered. Newly married she was now taking over the keys of the home as the lady of the house. She married well. The farmer had impressive lands. They should have all been in their proper homes, taking care of their new households. This would mark the last garment that you would all make together before they went on their way.

“Or the fisherman!” Your other sister says.

“Ew, so (Y/N) can smell of fish? No, I say the blacksmith. His poetry, did you hear him?”

It was divine.

“Poetry alone a husband does not make, Alvida.” Your sister pipes off. “(Y/N) deserves to be pampered!”

Ugh, this was more work than it was worth. In the end none of these men would amount to your standards. They were not him. If they were not him… well… You tuck a lock of your hair behind your ear, cutting fabric with iron shears when your last of sisters speaks.

“What of Prince Hvitserk?” Ake bats her eyes innocently.

“What of him?” Alvida wiggles her finger. “He was pathetic! A cheater!”

“But he’s a prince!”

Does that mean that he would be able to have anything he wanted? For you to be the prince’s prize while he loves on all the side? You hate the thought of being someone else’s plaything. You had done that before. What… what did it get you? The only thing that it gave you was heartache never knowing who Hvitserk would pick in the end.

“But he broke up with Revna.”

“What?!” You snap unintentionally. Your sisters turn their heads toward you with wide eyes saying that they thought you knew. How could you know? You drop the fabric between your fingertips, padding away from your work. “He broke up with her?”

Ake slips out from her seat, shifting closer to you. Her fingers gently coerce you into turning around to look at her in her clear blue eyes. With a clearing of her throat, she finally speaks.

“He loves you, you know.” She slips behind you, letting her arms hold your waist with confidence. With her cheek against your back, you set your hand atop of hers. “Maybe he just didn’t know how to show it.”

That’s irrelevant. He wasn’t a young boy that you had to hold the hand of. If he really loved you… and really, really loved you, he should have shown it. Right? You wish that he still didn’t have this sort of power over you but… little by little you could break free of it and off him.

“Let’s finish the Queen’s dress.” You say. “I have to take it to her.”

“Write her something from the heart.” Vaði told him. Hvitserk was a bundle of nerves while clutching the iron stylus. His heart wasn’t telling him anything! Only that this stupid tablet wasn’t making any sense when he tried to put what he felt into word. He scratches his words in a set of runes--- only to get a vast eyeroll when Vaði read it.

“You are as bad at poetry as your father was said to be.”

Uggh. Hvitserk wasn’t made for this! He could romance any woman given a pitcher of ale and gentle touches but… to write poetry? This was something methodical! Aslaug came padding around the side of him in the Great Hall, sitting beside her son. Hvitserk glances up to her with a painful smile when she squeezed his shoulders.

“She is coming to bring me a new dress.” She informs him, pressing her cheek to his in a warm hug. His heart drops at last-- unable to deny the fact that this was him in knots. This could be one of his only chances.

“She may not be only yours.” Vaði reminds. “Geri has had suitors at his door since she left you.”

Suitors at the door. Just what Hvitserk needed-- a bunch of blue balled assholes to be bothering you in his place. He shakes his head, scratching at his tablet once again. There had to be something to the words that he can formulate into writing! Before the day’s end, Sigurd came to the table beside  Vaði and he. Mother served as a great serving ground for reciting poetry.

He could always tell when something really sucked when she hid behind her ale with that wolfish smile. Hvitserk could almost see his mischievous glint in her eyes, but then, it was always Ivar who made the best jabs at him.

Remember me, kitten,

And my body will remember you.

Love me again kitten,

And I’ll be all for you.

“That’s great.” He laughs. “If you were asking Freyja for sex in exchange for the brisinga-men.” He says flatly, raising his forehead in a line of wrinkles.

“Ivar!” The brothers click their tongues, throwing out noises of annoyance. They were so close to being done with this stupid poem!

“She’s coming.” Vaði steps into the Great Hall just as Hvitserk scratches something off of his board. He drops it from his fingers, running his hands over his braids to make sure that the strands were sitting down. The thrall that had rebraided his hair reassures him-- master, it looks handsome! He was not so sure.

Moments later you appear inside of the Great Hall’s entryway, a heavy flowing dress thrown over your arm. Aslaug sits back into her chair beside her sons. You gingerly walk forward, looking over all the boys that were clustered there. Even Ubbe who sits beside Hvitserk. He flips over his tablet, swinging his legs over the bench when you approach his mother.

“I’ve finished it. The… silk from England, it’s really lovely.” You say, holding it up so that she might see it. It is a moving piece in its rich blue hue. The arms and neckline are detailed in careful embroidery that must have taken some time to complete. Aslaug holds her cup in one hand and looks to Ivar for approval. He looks to it then nods his head.

“Nothing but the finest for our beautiful mother.” He agrees. You exhale a gracious breath, handing the dress off to the thrall that had been taking care of Hvitserk’s hair. As she filters out to the back, Aslaug reaches to pay you the weight of silver that she promised you. You slide the coins into a leather pouch and move past, almost flitting by when Hvitserk jumps up in front of you.

You’re ready for another one of his pleas. He would beg you to forgive him, insist that he knew your name and beg you to take him back. Maybe now he was only asking because he had no one but thralls to fuck his frustration into.

“(Y/N)!” Hvitserk holds his ground. From behind his mother Vaði encourages him on. The poem, he whispers. The one they worked on all night so that he might be able to woo you back into his arms! Hvitserk falters in his hand moments after a brief few awkward ‘uhs’ that slip from his lips. In the end his arms slacken by his side. “I… you... thank you.”

That was the most eloquent wooing you ever had. You blink sluggishly and join your hands together to form a weave. Damned be the gods, he didn’t try to stop you? It’s almost a soft, gentle approach to you as opposed to how fervently he had been trying to win you back into his arms. As you lift your hand to his shoulder, Bjorn comes in, slamming his pulsing red arm on the supporting beams of Kattegat’s magnificent hall.

“Vaði. Your uncle’s home is on fire.”

Fire. You bob by Hvitserk, the start of a run thrusting yourself into town where you knew that he was. Vaði joins with. Hvitserk doesn’t think twice of running after you, nor do his brothers. The serenity of the night was dissipated by the hot smoke wafting from your birth home. The closer you came to facing the home, the hotter the flames became. A roaring fire that anyone gathered around knows was not natural in nature. Natural flames could happen all the time. Like when Ake wanted to try on a flowing gown for a high lady and that lit aflame. From within the home, you can hear the fearful shrieks spilling out desperate in their nature..

“Ake!” You shout, moving closer to the warm flames that heat your skin right the hell right up. Vaði thrusts you back against his men that are not helping. Some of the men rush for water-- but Vaði’s men kick at the door to open it.

Blocked.

“Use your axe!” Vaði pushes through the cluster with his own axe, hacking at the door in berserker like fury. Nevermind the fact that the screams are becoming all the more still… all the more quiet. Bits of the door knock off, but its not solely by his own axe. Hvitserk’s too. It gives away to a home that is nearly falling apart. The earl and prince push forward in mechanical motion forgetting all else. It is one thing to know that your family is there-- inside smoldering alive.

“Hvitserk!”

But worse was knowing what family was left was pushing in alongside them. Time ticks by slowly. As if you are Loki pained by the poison of a snake awaiting Ragnarok. Inside of the home, its smokey. Hvitserk can barely see one way or another, neither can his other brothers. A beam crushes who he finds to be Alvida with his shirt raised over his mouth. Upon the other side of her, he recognizes another one of your sisters, who has impaled herself on a spear.

Ake-- that’s who is left. The smog clogs up his lungs and causes him to hack. Just to the right of Alvida is Geir, pinned by some heavy oak beam that won’t give to his burning hands. Inches from his fingertips, Ake is passed out.

“Take… care of her.” Geir makes out between rippling coughs, groaning in his pain. Vaði looks to his cousin, barely breathing, sweeping her up. There is no other way around saving the old man so Hvitserk nods in his response, exchanging a look between your father only an instant before they’re forced back out of the home.

Hvitserk wishes that he hadn’t even come out of that smoldering house alive when he sees you again. By Vaði’s side, he tears the ashy dress from your sister’s body to rid her of any flames that cling onto the threads that are being eaten up. A few healers come forward with those caring for the medical needs of those affected by the fire, sweeping her up away from the fray of the moment.

“Father?” You look to Hvitserk, begging him with those beautiful eyes to tell him something good. As if he hadn’t gone in there only to fail to bring out your precious family of sisters and one lone father. Vaði calls out your name, rushing with the healers out to an open home to heal your only remaining sister. If she was even alive.

There was a reason Hvitserk only surfaced once.

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[haloud]

take a chance and don’t ever look back -- chapter 3

ao3

Ten miles west of Lubbock, Michael takes the exit and turns around. His good hand white-knuckles the wheel; his bad hand burns on the sun-baked sill of the window. He merges on the eastbound and wonders what the fuck he’s doing. It’ll still be light out when he makes it back to the city. What he’s doing is dumb enough without the extra time for feeling foolish while he waits around for the bars to open.

Thing is, Michael wants to feel again.

Through death and loss and loneliness, his whole world’s just been…white noise. An overstressed processor whine. Nothing fixes it; nothing makes it stop. He’s tried booze, he’s tried acetone, he’s tried turning his trailer into a tourist trap for bored housewives.

None of it worked. Not one bit. So god, maybe it is men. It’s not that Michael’s never looked at a man since Alex, it’s just that when rough hands grab him by the waist, when stubble rasps against his skin, looking at the guy feels like curdled milk and closing his eyes is the kind of temptation that can stop a man’s heart. He’s never gone far enough with any man to start crying out Alex’s name.

Maybe that’s gonna change tonight. If Alex Manes wanted an army wife, he should’ve got down on one knee. It’s been four years. He’s done saving himself for his brave soldier boy, ‘specially when it’s not like Alex ever even asked him to.

(He’d have said yes, in a heartbeat, and then where would they be?)

The ranch doesn’t send him out this far very often, so if Michael doesn’t take this opportunity then it could be months before he gets another. Even so, he almost doesn’t go. What if this is the answer, and Michael just needs to fuck men for a while? Almost better not to know, for all the good it’ll do him. Lord knows you can’t get cock in Roswell without it becoming a federal fucking issue.

But god he wants to feel again.

So he gets a cheap burger and puts his feet up on the dash, and after the sun goes down he pulls into the parking lot of the kind of bar they don’t have in Roswell. Inside, haze clings to every surface, wraps and flows to let the patrons pass. The rumble of voices blends with the bassy music into something that tastes a little like drinking whiskey and a lot like kissing after. A crowd mills around the bar, calling out for drinks, leaning on each other; a larger crowd mills around the floor, dancing, grinding, talking real close. Men and men. Women and women. It’s like every bar he’s ever been to. It’s like the snap of a bungee rope that pulls him out of freefall back to safety. Michael takes a deep, steadying breath, flexes his ruined hand, and struts inside like he belongs.

He doesn’t even make it all the way to the bar before a man in a white hat is tipping the brim at him and drawling, “Buy you a drink?”

Michael drags his gaze from the man’s feet up to his face. Tall and broad, with a wide chest and thick shoulders, this is a man who could lift Michael one-handed, hold him down, toss him around. Michael licks his lips and feels…

Nothing.

Well, not nothing. His hindbrain perks up the same way it does when he winks a woman over the hood of her car and she slides a little closer. So at least that’s one thing answered. This is for him. This is him. He could give this man a smile and a little of his time; he could slide into this man’s truck and go on his back and get a taste of forgetting old-fashioned style.

He just doesn’t really want to, and goddamnit that’s the problem.

Still, there’s something new and delicious about being looked at by a man in a crowded room, so Michael won’t brush him off. He tilts his chin towards the bar and says, “Thanks for the invite, but I’ve got this round. Maybe I’ll see you around some other time?”

The big guy shrugs good-naturedly and ambles back to a table, where his buddies laugh and tease him for striking out. A pang of envy flashes through Michael and he breathes it out like all other useless regrets.

Drinking. Drinking is a good idea. This is an unfamiliar environment; a stressor. If he loosens up and finds his rhythm, maybe he’ll get more into it. He shoulders past a gaggle of bystanders to plant his elbows on the bartop and orders a beer at random.

As she pops the cap, the bartender, a grizzled-looking woman with thick, graying hair in a messy bun and laugh lines around her eyes, glances at him sideways and asks, “First time?”

Michael blinks, reflexively clenches his hands. He flicks through reactions in his mind—defensive, suave, running out the door and never looking back…finally he clears his throat and manages, “Small town. This’s my last night out here, so I figured…”

The bartender nods and just says wrenchingly simple:

“Welcome.”

And moves on to another customer.

Michael needs to sit down.

He collapses into a newly-vacated stool and wraps both palms around the cold glass of the bottle. This place is crowded and loud in a way the Wild Pony never is. It pulses; it’s alive. Michael’s eyes flutter shut; he searches for his heartbeat inside the rhythm.

He’s jostled out of his thoughts by a bony elbow catching him in the shoulder as some kid—well, probably close to Michael’s age, but he looks young, looks fresh, in a way Michael doesn’t know he’s ever looked—reaches past him to grab a pair of cocktails. Drinks in hand, he floats over to the nearest table, where a single dark-haired man nurses a single drink and sits with his back to the bar.

“Hey, soldier, wanna have some fun?” The kid asks, draping himself over the table’s other chair.

“Sorry,” a wry voice shouts over the pounding bass, “You’re cute, but curly hair doesn’t really do it for me.”

Michael snorts against the lip of his beer. Nerve of some people. Still, there’s something to that voice, a little hint of swagger that makes Michael sit up and take notice, makes him think maybe, makes him think finally, makes him think wanna go for a ride? The bold little twink that just got snubbed sticks his nose up in the air and stalks away through the haze. It doesn’t take him long to find someone else who’ll take the spare drink off his hands and lead him grinning to the dance floor. Michael gestures at the bartender for another beer, and once it’s slid his way he rolls his shoulders to loosen up, rolls his neck to hear it pop, and rolls his hips off the bar to make people look his way. The guy at the table, of course, doesn’t get the benefit of Michael’s performance, but it’s still an unexpected rush to be seen, now that he’s got a challenge to meet.

Soldier, the kid had said, and this guy may be out of uniform, but Michael can see it. His firm posture; his close-cropped hair. The measured way he curls his hand around his glass, takes a sip, and puts it back in the exact same place. A ready smirk teases Michael’s lips as he makes his way over.

“Soldier, huh?” He says aloud, putting the beer on the table with a thunk. “That a line you get often or the real thing? You gonna show me some discipline?” A flush revs the engine in his veins. He doesn’t know if he’s gunning for a fight or for a fuck, but he’ll take either one so long as this feeling doesn’t slip through his fingers.

Until the screech of chair legs on the wood floor drowns out all other sound. Everything but the ringing in his ears.

Because Alex Manes is looking back at him.

Shattering glass would hurt people. Chairs flying in every direction too. React too strongly and you’ll bust something important, maybe start a fire. Hold it together. This building has three exits and a fire door as well as a storage room with a lock behind the bar and probably cellar access.  You have a clear line of sight to the bathrooms if you need a place to hide or panic. You are not trapped. No one here wants to hurt you. Your truck has enough gas to make it back to Roswell without stopping. There is no need to panic.

Count back from ten. A safe release: let the cars outside rock a little on their suspensions. Nine. Stretch the fingers on your left hand. Eight. Breathe in. Seven. Alex looks scared. Six. Do something about it. Five. Breathe out. Four. Put down your other beer so you have both hands free. Three. Say something. Two. No, not yet. One.

Alex.

He’s walking away.

He’d be running if he wasn’t controlling himself so tightly. Instead he takes it at a march, stiff-jointed and robotic. Michael scrambles after him, half-dreaming, ears ringing out a plaintive whine that he stuffs behind his teeth. He chases Alex in slow motion through the crowd and the swirling air, towards the secluded back of the bar and the back door hidden in a little alcove.

“Alex!” He cries, and the man jerks like Michael threw a fist instead. Unable to stop himself, Michael grabs his shoulder with his broken hand, and wheels him around so he can drink in the sight of that face.

It’s him. Undeniably, irrefutably. Michael didn’t recognize his voice over the noise, over the sound of him grown into its depth and timbre. But it’s him, and Michael reaches out his hands like maybe, maybe, he won’t be turned away.

“Guerin,” Alex groans, and Michael bobs his head pathetically, like yes, like please, like help me, like hello.

They collide.

Face pale and set like he’s hunting a ghost, Alex cups Michael’s face and turns them so Michael’s the one with his back to the wall. He marches them forward, and Michael lopes back in step. The rest of the world fades out to a dull throb, an unimportant ache. Michael snatches at Alex’s clothes to drag him in. They’re not moving fast enough. Michael used to think they had time, but now he knows it was never true, and his has never been the hand on the hourglass.

“Aaanh!”

The sound rips itself out of Michael’s chest as he throws himself against the wall, twisting his hand in the bottom of Alex’s clinging red shirt. Their mouths slam together, all momentum. Michael opens his mouth to take Alex’s tongue with a loud moan. Alex hisses in response; his forearms thud against the wall on either side of Michael’s head a millisecond later, bracing himself instead of crushing Michael the way Michael wishes he would. He wants the bruises, wants the bloody lip, wants a clawing, scratching sting he can rub against in the morning.

If he can’t have a dance, he can have this much.

Goading, he shoves his hands under Alex’s clothes and drags his dull nails in the spaces between Alex’s ribs. He’s heavy with muscle now, but he’s still soft to touch like the boy Michael loved in a pale blue suit. Alex tears his mouth away to pant against Michael’s jaw. His fists clench and Michael’s hips twitch at the creak of bone and tendon and power at the edge of his hearing.

“Touch me,” he says, “Alex, touch me,” because what does he have to lose, “Alex, it’s me, it’s you, touch me.”

“I can’t,” Alex gasps, breathy and cracked and tasting like salt, “Oh no, oh God, it’s you, oh—”

“You can. You can.” Michael cups the back of his neck so they can kiss again, sloppy and hot. Alex smells like leather, like metal, like secondhand smoke. Michael’s spent three days in his truck, so he knows what he smells like too—rose petals and gasoline and wax. That’s what Alex is breathing in with every drag of his lungs. Him.

“What are you doing here,” Alex pleads, “Why are you here, I can’t, I can’t—”

“What are you doing here?”

And Alex laughs, rude and wet, a sound from the bottom of his stomach. “Why are we doing this, Guerin? Why’d you even walk my way? Nothing’s changed!”

“Nothing’s changed,” Michael agrees, pressing their foreheads together. He wants to beg Alex to let it be true. But he doesn’t. Used to be there was no need for dignity, here, but maybe some things have changed after all. Michael kisses Alex above each unlined eye, on the bridge of his nose, holds him close to brush his lips on either ear. Still and tense like he’s bracing against a storm, Alex makes little choking noises at every touch of his mouth, and a low cry escapes when Michael pulls back to press kisses to his fingertips.

Nothing’s changed. Alex can shove and cut and hide away whatever he needs to keep himself safe, but Michael can still read the ink beneath his skin. This is it, the answer, the solace he’s been seeking. It didn’t die, Michael didn’t kill it and burn it to ash while the silent stars looked on. Alex just took it with him when he left.

It’s okay to be without it, now, if Alex needs it more.

“Nothing’s changed,” Michael says in a raspy whisper, as he rearranges and recategorizes and everything does.

Instead of replying, Alex bares his teeth and fastens them to the meat of Michael’s shoulder, exposed by the stretched-out collar of his shirt, sending a slick shiver from his scalp to his toes. It’s nothing at all like understanding, but it fills a need enough right now. All his animal instincts roll his head to the side to expose the softest parts of him.

“Guerin,” Alex half-whispers, half-sobs. Michael runs his fingers across Alex’s scalp. He nods. He knows.

Being with Alex has always been music enough to dance to, but tucked away in this corner away from the world, they don’t. They don’t shuffle. They don’t sway.

The world moves on in beat and time, and they don’t move at all.

[winchesterprincessbride]

Whatever It Takes-Part 9

Characters: Alpha! Dean Winchester, Beta! Sam Winchester, Omega! reader, Beta! sister Terri (OC

Part 1        My Master List

Beta’d by the Girl with the Rainbow Tattoo, @kittenofdoomage

I didn’t even look at Dean as we walked to the car. I couldn’t stop seeing that woman with her hand on his arm and her eyes filled with longing.

“Would you stop for a minute? Can we talk about this please?” He asked tersely, reaching out to grab my arm.

I pulled away from him with a sigh.  “Just take me home, Dean.”

He opened his mouth to say something but seemed to change his mind.  I threw open the door and sat down, so overcome with fury and jealousy it was threatening to choke me.  Was this how it was going to be? Dean’s past coming back to haunt me just as we were starting to get comfortable?

“I’m sorry.” He said very quietly. “I wanted this night to be special.”

“You’re never going to be just mine, are you?” I whispered, glancing sideways at him. God, he was so damn pretty! Wait a second…. Where did that come from?  Then I noticed it. That itchy feeling beginning in my stomach, like my skin was getting too tight.  Then the familiar warmth bubbled up in my core, and I bit back a moan.

“Oh no.” I gasped.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” Dean asked his voice heavy with concern. He took in a breath, and his nostrils flared. I knew he could smell it.

“Great.  Just great.”  Whatever they had given me at the hospital to suppress my heat had obviously worn off.  Perfect freaking timing, as usual.

We pulled up at my place and I ran from the car, needing to put as much distance between Dean and me as possible. I was already starting to sweat, and I could feel my stomach twisting in knots.

Please, not now!!” I muttered as I threw myself on the couch and curled up into a ball.  

“Dammit, Y/N! Would you stop running from me! We need to talk about this!” Dean had taken off his jacket, and he was breathing heavily as though he had run from the car.  I could tell my heat was starting to affect him.

“She was so desperate, I could see it in her eyes.  How many other Lisas are we going to run into? How many other women are out there who want to lay claim to you?” I jumped off the couch and got right into his face, my heat fueling me with anger and aggression.

He grabbed my arms, holding me against him. “I can’t change the past, Y/N. But I don’t want any of them.  I just want you.”

I jabbed my finger into his chest.  “You’d better be sure Dean. because I don’t share.  It’s all or nothing with me.  I refuse to compete with every Omega you screwed while you were with Alpha4. What’s to stop you getting bored with me and calling one of your old fucks?”

Dean didn’t reply, but I could tell by the dangerous glint in his eyes that I had pushed him too far.  He picked me up and tossed me over his shoulder, carrying me off towards the bedroom.  When he threw me onto the bed and began taking off his shirt. I scrambled into a sitting position, shoving my hair out of my eyes, torn between annoyance and arousal.  “What the hell was that for?”  I demanded.

“It shut you up, didn’t it?” He said with a smirk.

My face softened. “Come here,” I whispered. He climbed onto the bed, leaning into me as I put my arms around him. “I love you, you know that, right?”  I whispered as our lips met in a breathless kiss. I could feel him tremble as his hands slid down my back to cup my ass and pull me against his erection.  

My head was spinning as we shared a hot, open-mouth kiss that was equal parts anger and passion. I had so many conflicting emotions fighting for dominance at the moment, I didn’t know which end was up.

“That dress has to go.” He snapped.  “Get it off or I will.” My nimble fingers made short work of the many buttons on the dress and slipped it from my shoulders, along with my bra and panties. I threw my clothes into the corner, the coolness of the room making me shiver slightly.

Dean’s eyes looked me over possessively as his hand reached out to caress my shoulder.  He loomed in front of me, large and dominating.  That apple-pie scent of him just washed over me, and I could feel the slick smearing against my thighs. My stomach clenched hard, and I whined with need.

“Lay down and let me take care of you, Omega.” He growled in that deep timbre that turned my bones to complete jelly.

I shook my head, holding my hand up against his chest.  “No, YOU lay down.”

His eyes flew to mine, surprised.  “You wanna take the wheel tonight, ‘mega?” He whispered in a husky voice.

I nodded slightly.  “That okay?”

His grin was instant.  “Hell yeah!’ He said with enthusiasm. I pushed against his chest, and his laid down on the bed, his thick cock standing tall and proud.  It made my mouth water. I scrambled into his lap taking his face in my hands and kissing him passionately.  I rocked in his lap my slick allowing the head of his cock to slide through my pussy lips over and over, and he groaned as I teased him.

Pulling my lips from his to take a gasping breath my mouth latched onto one of his nipples and tugged as I continued to grind on him and he almost fell off the bed.  His eyes were closed, and he was moaning softly. His hands came up, tangling in my hair and he spoke, “Need you, Y/N”

I reached down and guided him to my entrance, impaling myself on his hard shaft and I gave a choked cry. I began to work him over, twisting my hips and sliding myself incredibly slow up and down on his cock, and Dean began to shake and curse. He wanted hard and fast, I could tell, but that just made me go agonizingly slower. I wanted him to feel every movement.

“Stop teasing, Y/N.” he warned, his hands coming up to rest on my hips and pull me down, harder and deeper as our hips smacked together.

I looked deep into his eyes as I raised myself up so that just the tip of him remained inside me.  “I  need you to be all in with this, Dean. 100%. I need all the Lisas of the world to know that you are my Alpha and no one else’s.” And with this, I slammed myself down on his cock and began to ride him with a bruising rhythm.

“Dammit!” He swore. “I’m yours, Omega. Always.”

My orgasm was approaching, and I could feel his knot swelling, making it more difficult to ride him. My pussy clamped down on him like a vice, and I started to collapse on his chest with a hoarse scream of pleasure. My lips were very close to his neck, so with a quick twist of my head I leaned into him and sank my teeth into his neck and bit hard until I drew blood.  

His eyes widened in surprise, and he hissed slightly in pain. I ran my tongue over the bite, lapping up the blood, the coppery taste of him filling my mouth.

“Now you’re mine,” I said smugly, blood dripping from the corner of my mouth.  Dean stiffened, and a roar of pleasure escaped his lips, as he came hard, filling me with his hot cum. He quickly pulled me down to him and bit me, his teeth marking me, binding us together forever, and triggering another smaller orgasm for me.  He poured into me for what seemed like forever.

I lay on his chest, small aftershocks running through me, trying to catch my breath.  When I finally had control of myself I slid off and lay down next to him. I didn’t move for a long moment because I was actually afraid to look at him. When I finally turned in his direction, his eyes were warm and he was smiling.  “So this happened,” I whispered with a small grin.

“You taking control like that was incredibly hot, Y/N. I’ve wanted this for so long.” He told me, his hand holding mine.

“Me too,” I whispered back. It just felt right. We fell asleep holding hands, knowing that when we woke up everything would be totally different.

My apartment was bigger and Dean’s lease was almost up, so we decided he would move in with me.  After much arguing and compromising we were able to whittle our stuff down to one home’s worth.  Believe me, it wasn’t easy.  Dean is very attached to his stuff.

Time flew by as he worked long days getting the garage in order, but he always had me to come home to.  Next week Sam is on spring break, and he is coming to visit, and I am finally going to get to meet him, not as Dean’s “friend” from Harvelle’s, but as Dean’s Omega and his mate.

Today is my one-year follow up with the Turner-Singer specialist.  Dean really wanted to be there, but there was some issue at the shop that he had to deal with personally.  “It’s no problem, babe.  Terri said she would go with me.”

“But I’m your Alpha, I should be there.” He said stubbornly, crossing his arms.

I rolled my eyes at him.  “It’s no big deal. I’ve been feeling really good. I haven’t had any further episodes. I promise I’ll tell you everything.  Terri knows my entire history with this.  It will be fine.”

He pulled me to him, and hugged me, kissing the top of my head.  “Call me as soon as you are finished.”

“Yes, Mom. Now go to work!” I laughed, practically pushing him out the door.

He turned in the doorway before leaving. “I mean it, Omega. Call me.  As soon as you are done.”

Terri met me at the office since the hospital was close to her house.  This place brought back very bad memories for me.  They took a bunch of tubes of blood as soon as I got there, and then we sat in the waiting room for what felt like an eternity waiting for the doctor.

“So how are things with you and Dean?” Terri asked.

“Really good. He’s been working a lot.  Sam is coming to visit next week, so he’ll be home for that.”

Terri put her hand on my arm.  “It’s nice to finally see you two in a good place.”

The nurse called my name and we were escorted to the doctor’s office.  It was filled with books and leather and diplomas and just screamed pretension. His bedside manner hadn’t improved. “So Y/N. I ’ve had a look at your labs. Everything looks good, except for one thing. Your HCG came back positive.”

Terri and I looked at each other.  “And that means?”

“You’re pregnant.  Pregnancy is contraindicated for Turner-Singer patients. Given the difficulties you have had in the past, I don’t believe your body will be able to tolerate the hormone changes of pregnancy.  I suggest terminating the pregnancy right away.  Have you been using birth control?”

“Yes,” I said immediately. “Well, there was one time, maybe two. But I wasn’t really worried about it because I was told a few years ago I most likely couldn’t have children.  I had some gynecological issues when I was younger……” My voice trailed off.

“You didn’t tell me any of this!” Terri snapped.  She was right. I didn’t want her to feel sorry for me, so I hadn’t shared this with anyone. After Dean’s rut, I’d angrily told him I could have gotten pregnant because we didn’t use anything.  I said it more to hurt him than because I’d actually believed I could be pregnant. I still felt guilty about that.

“Thanks, but no,”  I said suddenly.

“Excuse me?” The doctor said, confused.

“I said no. I am not terminating this pregnancy.”

“Ms. Y/L/N….” The doctor began in a condescending voice.

“What she means is she needs to discuss this with her Alpha,” Terri said, glaring at me as she grabbed my arm and pulled me out of my chair.

“I want to see you back next week. The sooner we terminate, the better.” The doctor said, shuffling his papers.  I was clearly being dismissed.

“What are you going to tell Dean?” Terri asked me as soon as we were in the hallway.

I just stared at her, because I had absolutely no idea.

Part 10

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[ohokimdumb]

EREN/NSFW/WOUNDED SOLDIER

Being a nurse wasn’t the easiest job, but you knew you were needed. The amount of wounded soldiers from battle had increased rapidly, and many women had been turning down the job. It was sad how many people thought the wounded men were a complete waste, that they were no longer good for anything. You respected them though, they did a good deed, they put their lives on the line for their people.

You offered to put in an extra shift that evening, it relieved a lot of the doctors to know there was going to be more help, even if it only helped a little bit. You were in the middle of shuffling through rooms, serving their dinner and checking their vitals. You heard a crash come from the room next door and you rushed to assist whoever it was.

There was a long haired, young man on the ground struggling to get back on his feet. You quickly walked to help him.

“Here, let me help you, don’t push yourself too hard.” You said and took a hold of his hand, then wrapped one arm around him for support. He got back on his feet and sat back down onto the hospital bed.

“It’s not the easiest missing a foot, plus I’m very clumsy.” The young man chuckled and rubbed his thigh, recovering from the fall. You helped him lay on his back and adjusted the bed so his back was arched correctly. His pillows were fluffed with a pre-warmed blanket.

You were about to leave, but the soldier grabbed you by the arm gently. You looked at him confused; a bit nervous.

“I want to thank you for your help, I’ve noticed not many civilians here want to help with the war effort.” You sighed as he spoke the truth.

“It’s a true shame.” You saddened.

He caressed your arm and took a hold of your hand; his was warm.

“My name is Eren.” He introduced himself properly; which left you smiling. But, out of nowhere you pulled you in close and molded his lips with yours. His were a bit chapped, but they still felt nice; warm.

“Sir...” You tried to speak, but he set his hand on the back of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair, refusing to let you speak. He pressed his lips more forcefully that time. Instead of pulling away, you gave into the kiss. You hadn’t kissed or had...contact with a man like that in so long. At least, since your boyfriend died serving for the war.

Eren slid his tongue in your mouth, your tongues twisted around each other playfully. You set a hand on his cheek, dragging your fingers down his warm cheek softly.

“You should go shut the door, no one should see us.” Eren breathed and you obeyed, shutting the door quietly and walking over to him with haste. You felt like you were going to lose control, it had been so long. You crawled on top of him, attacking his neck like a hungry animal. He yanked your head back with one tug of your hair, bite your neck roughly...he clearly wasn’t a gentle man.

Eren grabbed a handful of your ass, squeezing firmly. He made sure to feel every part of your body; your breasts, your waist, your neck, especially your ass. Your core began to tingle, you were wet already? You questioned yourself; you must have been very desperate. Eren finally slid his hand up your nurses dress and made it to your core, rubbing your clit gently through your panties. You quietly moaned, covering your mouth. You had muffle your moans, you couldn’t let anyone hear; you would be fired for sexual interactions with a patient, probably even fined. 

Eren slid a couple fingers through the side of your panties, rubbing his thumb against your clit, sliding two of his warm fingers into your core. He curled his fingers inside, moving all around exploring your warmth.

“Now, where’s that special spot at.” Eren said wickedly and you got even more wet from his tone of voice. You bucked when he finally found your spot. The feelings you felt within your core and stomach were intense, almost to the point where you couldn’t handle it. You cried out as a sudden shock of ecstasy. Eren pulled his fingers out and you whined.

“Oh, so you don’t want something bigger inside you?” Eren questioned, before he stopped you pushed in down against the bed. You wasted no time and pulled your panties down your legs. There was no way you were letting this opportunity go to waste. Eren’s eyes widened in shock from your sudden change in behavior, it was such a turn on for him. He watch your panties slide down your legs, thinking how you feel inside...how warm you will be...how tight.

“I hope you know how to handle your moans...this is going to be a wild ride.” Eren growled and slid his patient pajama pants down, lining his cock with your core. You pushed yourself down on him, his cock sliding inside you slowly...you felt how big he was, you spread your lips out wide, it was slightly painful since it was only your second time having sex. Eren held onto your waist securely and helped you grind on him, his cock throbbing inside you. He’s never felt a woman so warm. You were forced to cover your mouth, quieting your moans the best you could, but it was the most difficult thing you had to do.

Eren licked his lips as he stared at you. Your eyes were squeezed shut from the extreme bliss you were currently  pleasured by. How big he was, was the reason you were going mad.

Eren pushed you down harder on his cock, it spread you out wider, you couldn’t handle it.

“I’m about to cum!” You cried out and a wicked smile molded on his face.

Eren growled as he felt himself release inside you, the both of you were on a complete high in bliss. Sweat ran down Eren’s cheek, dripping down his chin. Your hair was a mess from the amount of times Eren tangled his fingers within.

“Now this...really makes a soldier happy.” Eren said through his heavy breathing.

[sportafreddie]

Glannithro AND Sportarobbie prompt where some assholes are picking on Robbie and Glanni is about to cut a bitch but then Ithro holds him back until they start insulting Sportacus too and then Ithro let's go of Glanni and he gets ready to crush a dick too

Thank you for the prompt, it was fun to write! Do you know how hard it is to think of insults for Sportacus, besides his accent? I hope you like it!

Trigger warning: Ableism, slurs, violence, swearing, threats of violence, beginnings of a panic attack

Send me in more prompts!

Robbie had known this was a bad idea, but had anyone listened?

No.

Unlike his brother, Glanni loved partying. A night without at least half a dozen cocktails, lasers, music so loud it nearly left you without hearing, sweaty people not so much dancing as grinding against each other and ten inch heels wasn’t successful in the villain’s eyes. Both Íþró and Sportacus weren’t really party animals, but Glanni had fluttered his eyelashes at Íþró, who, in turn, talked Sportacus into coming along and Robbie really couldn’t say no to Sportapuppy’s pout.

Which was why he’d just spent four hours nursing one cocktail while hiding at the bar, as far away from the loudspeakers and mass of partygoers as possible. At first, Sportacus had sat with him, but being who he was, he hadn’t been able to sit still for long so he busied himself playing extreme darts – what kind of modern club still had darts? – while Íþró and Glanni were gods knew where. Every once in a while, Robbie had seen a flash of pink and mustard in the crowd, but never for long.

It was only half an hour before closing that Glanni had finally shown up, dragging a very dishevelled looking Íþró behind him, and that they left.

Or tried to, rather, since apparently Glanni still knew people that didn’t want to kill him on sight and had, of-fucking-course, run into one of those unicorns on their way outside.

Not even near the door, where Robbie could have inhaled some of the fresh, cool night air in hopes of getting rid of his headache, no, and the noise wasn’t dying down either.

Robbie looked across the room where the elf brothers were helping a few very drunk people back on their feet, going as far as accompanying them to the cars and cabs waiting outside. Even though Robbie really, really wanted to be annoyed at his boyfriend for leaving him on his own, he couldn’t help but smile. Always helping, even off-duty.

“Look at that weirdo over there.”

“Might as well stick his head in his arse if he tries so hard to hide it.”

“How can you even pull your shoulders up that far? Is that normal?”

“And the way his face is twitching.” The others laughed.

Until that last sentence, Robbie had – more or less successfully – tried to ignore the conversation, in hopes that they weren’t talking about him. But there was no convincing himself now; they were. Taking a deep breath, Robbie turned his head so he could look at the group.

Four people, obviously very, very drunk. Didn’t make the situation any better, though.

“Oh god, look at that chin!” The man elbowed the woman next to him in the side and pointed. “And those ears!”

Robbie’s hand automatically went up to his ears to hide them. His face went red. Say something, a tiny voice in his head piped up, defend yourself, don’t just stand there—

Robbie opened his mouth and tried to speak, but choked on air, no sound came out. The four laughed, visibly basking in Robbie’s misery. He felt like they were all alone, even though the club was still full. And though the lights were all centred on the dancing stage, Robbie felt put in the spotlight, like they were all shining on him, everything else was dark.

“Do you think he might be—“ The drunkard waved their hand in front of their face. “With all the twitching he does.” They wriggled their nose, pulling exaggerated grimaces, in what Robbie assumed was supposed to be what he did with his own face. Robbie reached up and tried to hide behind his hands, which only made them laugh harder.

“Who wears their trousers all the way to their fucking armpits?”

“What doofus dressed him?”

“On the same note, who even let him out?”

“Did the local clinic decide to let out its patients?”

“I think you’re being unfair. Don’t look at me like that, Chad. The clothes aren’t so bad. Look at the hair. It looks like it was glued on.”

“God, there he goes with the twitching again.”

“I wonder what he’s doing here.”

“Hey, weirdo! If you’re hoping for someone to pick you up, I can call the clinic so they get you!”

“Nice one!”

“Oh, you think that was nice?”

The familiar, deep voice pulled Robbie out of his thoughts. His head snapped up, hands dropping to his sides. Glanni was standing in front of him, shielding Robbie from the four with his body. Robbie didn’t need to see his face to know Glanni was pissed.

“Fucking hell, there are two of them.”

Glanni glared. “Yes, there are two of us. So all you said about my brother, say it to my face. I dare you.”

The ‘leader’ – Chad, if Robbie wasn’t mistaken – looked at his friends, unsure, at first, but then grinned. “Sure, if you insist!” He stepped forward and Glanni met him halfway. With his heels, Glanni was at least a head taller than the other man, but Chad hardly seemed fazed. “Your brother’s a weirdo. Did you pick him up from the psych ward for a quick night out with the normal crowd?”

Glanni’s face darkened. He growled, but it was too quiet for Chad to hear above all the noise. “Say that again.”

“What, are you deaf?” Chad turned to his friends and laughed with them. He turned back around, getting right in Glanni’s face. “I said your brother’s a retar-“

Everything happened so quickly, Robbie only saw blurry, coloured blobs. There was black and pink and mustard—

Íþró pulled Glanni back, away from Chad and his friends. Glanni kicked and cursed, but Íþró’s grip around his middle was unrelenting. “Let go!” Glanni hissed and scratched Íþró’s arms, as if the elf hadn’t built up a resistance to those claws yet.

Robbie would have been amused, had he not been on the verge of a panic attack.

“There’s no need for violence, Glanni!”

“No need for violence?! Did you hear what they said or are your super elf ears for show only?”

“Glanni-“

“What’s going on? Is there a problem?”

Robbie would recognise that accented voice anywhere, even when close to losing it. He watched Sportacus run up to the group, moustache quivering as it always did when he was confused. Those blue eyes Robbie loved so much darted from Íþró and Glanni to Robbie and then to the four drunks, before settling on Robbie again. He opened his mouth to say something – no doubt to tell everyone to calm down – but was interrupted by one of the women giggling.

“Did you hear that? Vhat’s göing ön? Is thöre ä pröbläm?”

“Look at his fucking clothes,” Chad said and laughed. “Oi, freak, were you dressed by the same person as that weirdo over there? Who runs around looking like some discount superhero?”

“That’s not nice.” Sportacus crossed his arms in front of his chest and cocked his head to the side. “I think you guys had a bit too much to drink, you should go home—“

“Thät’s nöt nicë,” one of the drunks imitated, badly, then patted Chad on the shoulder. “I bet you he’s all talk, no bite. Bet if we as much as threaten to him, he’ll cry and beg for his mummy.”

“Sportacus—“

“His name is fucking Sportacus?!? Please, you got to be kidding. This is getting better and better!” One of the women shrieked in laughter.

“Hey, mustard man, you his brother? You better take your big baby here home, he looks ready for a new diaper!”

“Are you going to cry, Sportacus? Thät’s nöt nicë, boohoo, I’m a big, big baby and I’m going to piss myse—“

Íþró’s fist connected with Chad’s nose. There was a loud cracking noise, followed by a pained shout, and Chad dropped to the ground, face a bloody mess.

His friends immediately pulled him to his feet, screaming insults, but none of them making a move to retaliate.

“So much for no need for violence,” Glanni huffed. “So if Robbie’s insulted, that’s no reason for getting violent, but the moment they target Sportacus it’s clobbering time?”

“What is… Nevermind. You know that’s not how it is.”

“I know, dear.” Glanni reached for Íþró’s hand and blew some air on his knuckles. “I’m just trying to lighten the mood.”

Íþró snorted. “That’s your idea of lightening the mood?”

Glanni rolled his eyes. “It’s like you don’t know me at all.” Before Íþró could say anything in reply, Glanni walked up to the group of four, smiling sweetly at them. “Are you alright there? That sure looked like it hurt. I’m sorry for my partner, want me to take a look at his nose?”

“You get away from us, you fuck—“ They trailed off into a shout when Glanni drove his heel down on their foot, hard.

“That’s no way to talk to a kind Samaritan, you uncultured swine.” Glanni lifted his foot, only to stomp down again. The faint, yet distinct sound of bones breaking was nearly drowned out by the drunk’s cry of pain.

“Glanni—“

The villain ignored Íþró and pushed the drunk aside to pull up Chad by the collar of his jacket. “You must be new around here or else you’d know not to fucking mess with me. Do you know who I am? Who my buff friend over there is? I’m Glanni fucking Glæpur and even if you don’t know that name, you should know that messing with me is a terrible, suicidal idea. Do you want to know why? Because I hold grudges for all eternity. Because once I hate you, I’ll do everything in my power to see you suffer. You think that punch hurt? You don’t know anything. I know ways to inflict pain that you couldn’t even think up in that tiny brain of yours. If I ever see you or one of your friends again, I’m going to hurt you. And don’t think that avoiding me’ll do the trick, because I have many, many acquaintances here and in the towns nearby, and some of them owe me. Those who don’t, they have a soft spot for my brother, so they’ll be fucking delighted to punch you until you’re green and blue.”

“You’re bluffing,” Chat spat out. “You’re going to jail, you and that yellow moron.”

Glanni growled. “Even if I was, you fucker, you haven’t just pissed me off, but Íþró too. You insulted his brother and his brother’s boyfriend in one go. Don’t put your hopes on the police, they’d do everything Íþró says. If I were you, I’d run. ”

He let go off Chad’s jacket and let him fall to the ground. He rubbed his hands together, then clapped, turning to Íþró, Robbie and Sportacus with a grin, as if nothing had happened. “Let’s go home.” He shot Robbie a concerned look. “Are you okay?”

Robbie numbly shook his head. “No,” he whispered softly. “But I will be once I’m home.”

Sportacus pulled him close and tiptoed to kiss Robbie’s head. “I’ll make you hot chocolate when we’re there. How’s that sound?”

Robbie sniffled against his neck. “With marshmallows?” Sportacus chuckled and nodded. Robbie smiled tentatively, but then frowned. He drew back to look at his boyfriend. “Are you okay? They said nasty things about you, too.”

Sportacus leant in to kiss Robbie’s cheek. “I’m fine, don’t worry. Let’s get out of here.”

Before they all left, Glanni couldn’t help himself and kicked Chad on his way out.

Not even Sportacus felt bad for him.

[princessclawdia-blog]

Call of the Wild

Now from the time I was a little kid, I could remember my parents would spank me for whatever nonsense or foolishness I had gotten into. Afterwards I remember feeling some shame, but the older I got it turned to more of an excitement. Like any kid at the time when I knew I was about to get my ass beat I would kick, fight back, run away, but afterwards it was such a turn on. The older I got when I finally had discovered masturbation and how if I rubbed my crotch hard enough how amazingly good it would feel, it was the same kind of excitement I would feel after being spanked. When I got close to adolescence I ended up stringing the two together. After I got my ass busted, once I was alone in my room, my cherry red cheeks throbbing I'd lay down onto my bed face down, put my headphones on and grind on top of my hand or a pillow. Now growing up in a Christian household with Christian parents, and my mother who at times was fanatical about her beliefs, I often felt ashamed like as if there was something wrong with me.

Homosexuality was a sin, masturbation was a sin, dirty or impure thoughts was a sin, rock n roll music was a device of the devil and pretty much anything else I enjoyed was a sin. I felt as if I were defective and a deviant. I would have nightmares about going to hell. My mother would blame our "sins" as the reason why she or my father had an illness, or the house needed repairs, financially they were struggling with bills or an unexpected expense that had come up that they weren't prepared for, because we were bad children. We were sinful children who didn't love God and so therefore God was punishing her and us because of our sins. I as a small child lived in fear of doing anything wrong or making mistakes because I was afraid God would punish me and or my family. No person could ever live up my mother's incredibly unreasonable expectations, regardless if God had a hand in it or not.

I truly believed this irrational nonsense until I was about thirteen and lived in a state of fear and constant anxiety. I loved reading to escape from the drama and I loved history too. Watching documentaries about the Nazis, about how the SS policed everything everyone said and did so as not to deviate from the ideal the Nazi party had set forth. Documentaries on the vietnam war and the fear of the rising threat of communism. I felt I could identify with the accounts people gave. They would give interviews and tell stories, remembering how scared and anxious they would be, living in fear of saying or doing the wrong thing, the paranoia and how it would bring about a horrible end. All of that would change once I discovered the heavens that lie beyond, in the internet.

Once I had access to the internet and had built my own first computer from odds and ends of other ones that had since been upgraded in the computer lab at school and then happened upon a local computer store that was happy to have a young eager mind willing to learn and donate their spare parts towards my cause I was on my way to opening a whole new world. Now in the days of dial up internet if you knew how to link into a phone line and swipe the AOL demos from the local Wal Mart in multiples so you'd have a supply of the free trial codes, you would have unlimited access, unless the phone lines were down. I found a plethora of free porn, which was completely foreign to me up until that point. There was so much available, from girls sucking horse cocks, to gangbangs, gaping holes, spanking which of course was my immediate favorite and it was then like I had discovered Valhalla.

I had, had dreams before of being spanked and at this point coming into transitioning from being a little kid and I was now twelve years old which meant moving up into junior high school and soon I'd be a teenager and all teens think they are the shit and know it all. For me though once I stumbled upon four letters BDSM: bondage and discipline, domination and submission, sadism and masochism. Now, I had heard the term sadist before, on tv when reporters would be referring to some terrible serial killer and the horrible crimes they had committed, but the rest really didn't mean much to me. I would comb through pages and pages of pictures, videos, women tied up, being fucked with dildos and vibrators, clamps and the popular clothespins hanging from throbbing nipples and I discovered my panties would be so wet after a little while of viewing.

So just like any other young, stupid kid I began experimenting. I would find clothespins, shoelaces, nylon rope in the garage and I would try to bind my still growing breasts just like in the pictures online and clamp clothespins to my tiny pink nipples. It hurt of course at first, but it was a good kind of pain. Not like the kind of pain when I fell rollerblading trying to grind across a handrail at the local church on an angle too steep to start with, but a pleasurable kind of pain. Then I moved to finding whatever I could find to fuck myself with. The big fat coloring markers, tampons still in the plastic applicator, vegetables, my hairbrush handle and my fingers. It all felt so good and it was addictive, like who doesn't want to masturbate every fucking day if they can right?

I suppose this is probably also how I ended up starting to fuck at an early age. I wasn't a complete idiot, I had taken sex education in school so I knew about STDS. My mother being a nurse and had a library of educational books in the house. When I ran out of books to read from the local library and it donned on me the wealth of knowledge in those anatomy books I began to devour them page by page. I had always loved to read since I was really little, I could read, write and spell before I hit kindergarten, but now I had a new motivation to learn. By age thirteen my mother had decided I was old enough to go to the gynecologist since my periods much like hers were getting terribly heavy and almost unbearable. Some days she would let me skip school and ride along with her to her job, and we would go to the mall for lunch sometimes when she could afford it. So by eighth grade and going on fourteen years old I was already on the pill, reading all I could about male and female anatomy and a porn fiend. When I started dating guys who were of course always a grade or two older than me and the opportunity arose after making out to fool around I thought I know exactly how to do this, I had watched so many videos online.

Even now as a grown woman I have always prided myself on giving blowjobs. I have had a lot of practice and when the first few times I had the opportunity as a teen I did what I saw online and to my surprise when I got complimented on how much he enjoyed it, it lit a fire. So when I started dating a guy who wanted to have sex, it was like my mind and body was in auto pilot. I would sneak out at night meet him in the local park, sometimes there against the silky lining on his leather trench coat in the dark under the moonlight, sometimes when his mom would be out of town and his little sister was fast asleep in her room he would let me into his bed, sometimes in his car if we could find somewhere hidden to park for a while. He was one of the first, others it would become sneaking in a quickie in their bedrooms knowing the parents were nearby. The ginger one when I got to high school, the local coffeehouse bathroom because it was quite spacious for a public restroom plus the aroma of chocolate pastries with caffeine just added to the experience.

By the time I got to college and I had friends who were just learning how to get good at fucking, their first few times in high school usually were awkward and not something they cared to remember or they were virgins waiting for it finally to be their turn I had already been through several "boyfriends". I referred to them as that, because there is not really any better term. They were boys, we were friends to some degree and we did stuff together.

Later on as an adult and into my twenties porn was something anymore I'd watch when bored or just dry up on available "boyfriend" options to pass the time. When I moved to another state and a much bigger city, my new girlfriends would talk about their boyfriends wanting to do things they just didn't enjoy. Like having her the woman get on top of him, doggie style or trying anal. Now in high school the first guy, yeah the one I met in the park at night, loved when he finally could sneak me into his bedroom and after he donned a glow in the dark condom he procured from the local gas station vending machine and I mounted on top of him. He had black lights all around his room, those tacky posters from Spencer's to match and White Zombie turned down low, thumping from his shelf stereo and it was a straight up party to the two of us. Probably one of the best reasons was while I was bouncing away on his cock to orgasm after orgasm he could lay back and we could both smoke the fat blunt he had just rolled. Sometimes his friends would come spend the night too, they would lay on either side of us on his bed, singing along to the music, passing the joint and eventually I would take my turn with each of them.

Of course my inner circle of closest friends back then, my fellow " juggalettes" (yeah, yeah I know I.C.P is so lame now, but back in the day they were the shit), the outcasts, drama and theatre nerds, the band geeks, only a few of them knew of my wild habits. They were the same few who I'd bump into at a house party or at the local coffeehouse where all the middle and lower class kids who didn't have Wranglers, Land Rovers, or tricked out pick up trucks to cruise around in at the mall, this where we went to hang out.

The few of my closer girlfriends I admit we were total sluts by definition. We would swap notes in classes, trying to one up one another about our raunchy tales from the weekend before. We would swap condoms and other goodies we purchased from various vending machines at truck stops and gas stations. Chewing on the flavored ones in class like they were fucking bubble gum. I'd swap my banana for strawberry which matched my wildly colored pillarbox red hair, as Manic Panic called it. In our minds, we felt grown up and badass as fuck. It was as if we knew a little secret the rest of our classmates had not yet figured out. Sex felt fucking awesome, it was fun and we fucking loved it. We loved to fuck every chance we got. Some of us like myself loved to fuck every chance I could with guys of course and girls too. I would salivate and get wet thinking about some of my girlfriends in their low slung hip hugger flare jeans, thong poking out in the back, spaghetti strap tops with their nipples showing through the cheap polyester fabric and the cheesy Playboy bunny glitter logo planted front and center, between their firm tits. Now that I think about this as an adult it all sounds so stupid and it is embarassing.

I still remember always feeling just a little bit off though from my friends. I would go back home, look at the darker side of porn and in the internet world I didn't feel so much as an outcast and a freak. I did eventually get a cheap webcam and I had accounts on AIM, YAHOO, and ICQ by now. I eventually late one night, at home and alone got bored and adventurous and discovered chat rooms. This wasn't like usual bullshit kiddie fun I had with my school friends, this was before emoticons were a thing too, you had to know the keystrokes to make each face. I of course found the over 18 chat rooms, quickly created an alternate profile with a fake name, address, age, and went to town. I got a cheap headset too, and I would spend hours talking to men and women from all over the world. I would exchange short videos and pictures with them. Clothespins on my nipples, tied up breasts, my fingers sloshing away at my puffy slippery wet pussy. It was in this world that I didn't feel I was an outcast, a defective, and certainly not a deviant. How could I be? There was a world of people out there just like me and enjoyed the things that I did. In this realm I felt like I belonged, like I had become part of some sort of kinky tribe. I at the time didn't know the definition of the word kink or that there was a name for these interests, just that they seemed to only come natural to me.

Now I don't know if this is the way other people have been introduced to the world of kink, but for me that is my earliest memory. As an adult now it seems to me that what I discovered was by happen stance, but if I hadn't discovered kink through the internet I would have eventually through another avenue in time. I now have piercings, tattoos, I change my hair color often on a whim and while some of these things are still considered even today in 2018 "alternative" or "wild" to me it just seems completely normal. Like my piercings and my tattoos I look at them everyday no different than the freckles on my skin. They are part of who I am, speak about me and I find them aesthetically beautiful. I don't think you can define or explain why it is some things are just attractive to some people and repulsive to others. The same with kink, it's just a turn on for many and for many others just seems bizarre and somehow unhealthy or there must be something wrong with you to enjoy such a thing. For those of us it speaks to, it's on a whole other level beyond just the physical sensations. There is a level of intimacy deeper than sex that's hard to describe, you just have to experience it.

Really and truly what it is at the core, for me at least, is an experience even when there is no sex involved. It does bring about that same kind of high you get after an intense orgasm, or at the end of a thrilling roller coaster ride. I get a high just from trying something new, it is for me a personal challenge, something new I hadn't tried before. It feels sometimes daunting, nerve wracking as fuck at times, even the feeling of danger maybe an element to it, and I have to self talk myself away from my fears of judgement or misunderstanding rooted in my conditioning since I was a child that this is not "normal behavior" and I am somehow a twisted deviant to derive such massive pleasure from participating in such things. Each new high, with each new experience it becomes cemented in my brain as a pleasant memory that brings a smile to my face. After so many years now it has become welded to my being. It is truly a part of me, of who I am, of who I was always meant to be.

I have in the past tried to supress it for one reason or another. Whether it was from a lack of time, the lack of motivation or simply just trying to fit in with a people or place, to belong where I was in life then, but after a time the hunger comes back. Like an insatiable thirst and there's only one way I know how to quench and relieve it. A call back to the wild is what I feel. Without it I don't feel whole, it is a part of my soul. Alongside my studies into the bdsm world I have also changed religious beliefs and philosophy over the years too and have come to find paganism and wicca to speak to my inner core like no other belief system could before.

My present day belief system is a fusion from different pagan practices, yes mostly from wicca, but nature and animals speak to my inner being and provide a peace I never found in christianity. I had read the Bible committed much of it to memory, I had read the Koran, books on buddhism, hinduism, jainism, back again to different versions of the bible and catholicism, but it I just didn't "feel" it. Something just wasn't right and so I continued my search until I found what I was looking for to end my hunger and thirst. Wicca and much of the other pagan beliefs centered around nature, just touched my soul in every right way possible. I felt the same kind of calm and peace when strolling down a trail on a cool fall day, admiring the colors of the fallen leaves, feeling the breeze through my hair, the fall sun warm on my cheeks, and I am one with the nature in the world around me. This is my religion, this is my spirituality, it was always there and all around me I just didn't know it until that moment.

My willingness to throw my whole self into the bdsm world and with every opportunity I can find, the closest analogy I can think of to explain why, is how I became a pagan over the years. It just clicks with me. It just speaks to who I am and to who I have always wanted to be deep down inside of myself. I had always been angry, self destructive even and at war with my inner self. I had grown tired and weary and longed for peace, for soildarity, for quiet, and to calm the storm inside of me.

The experience when I am into my subspace, participating in whatever activity I have chosen to experience, is what I like to think of as a call back to the wild. It is a call to just be, to let go of the many inhibitions that hold us back from experiencing the body and soul the way it is meant to be felt.

Life they say is meant to be lived. If you are "living" but not with feeling, with a passion, with a fire burning, with a sense of feeling free and enjoying the whole experience then to me that isn't really living. For me, I know I had heard the call of the wild many times before and I didn't fully understand it or I chose to repress it and pretend I couldn't hear it. It sounded like a lone wolf crying at the moon in search of its brethren.

I heard the call of the wild again and again and I had decided to follow it and now I know I am home. I feel the peace and solidarity with my soul that I had longed for. I am one with the wild. I am one with the wild fire burning inside and while I am learning how to master it still, I am one of the wild and no longer scared to be true to myself. I am no longer ashamed of what I am, to remain faithful and loyal to who I am. I want to become the call of the wild now to others who are willing to hear its message and want to come home to the pack. Come home my brethren, listen to the call of the wild inside of you. Do not be afraid. This is the call to love yourself, of self discovery. This is how I am learning to love and trust myself. I am one of the wild now and I will never look back.