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#BEGGARS SOUL
mausinly · 2 months
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Guys, please brainrot in my inbox. Maybe not fic requests but just like tell me your thoughts and headcanons and stuff and I may drop some x reader blurbs as a treat <3
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pyro-madder · 2 months
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was there confirmation from the devs that gascoigne has two daughters or did we all take the older one's words at face value when everything else in the game points otherwise
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wuxia-vanlifer · 7 months
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So I realized a little too late that the first part (Di Feisheng pov) doesn't appear in the tag (not cool, tumblr)
It's still in my blog if you wanna go search for it. This part is right after that.
Will this one appear? Who knows.
But anyway! This is the second part of my what if fic about childhood friends Di Feisheng and Li Xiangyi, pov Li Xiangyi.
(I wrote and rewrote this part too many times, checking over and over and over again, until I simply said "let's post it or it'll never see the light")
Soooo here it is! Please enjoy!
(In case you don't know, gege means older brother)
"The boy was shacking, his teeth chattering. His pale skin was becoming grey, and beads of sweat trailed down his forehead. Still, at touch, he was burning.
Li Xiangyi had seen those signs already, he knew what would happen if he’d let him be.
But this time, Li Xiangyi wouldn’t watch another one die like his gege did. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t abandon him like the other child did, running away with the gift gege gave him to take care of Xiangyi.
(Li Xiangyi spent days alone, trying to convince himself he would come back. That he wasn’t being abandoned again. That surely the boy just went to search for food, that…
But he never did. And he took with him the last memory of his gege)
But it wasn't the moment to dwell on bad memories.
That alley was a dark and cold, he needed to find something to warm the boy, before his teeth really shattered.
It took him the whole day to find a cloak. It was a thin thing, definitely not made for the winter, and used so much that there were holes everywhere. But he barely escaped a beating to get his hands on it, and there weren’t really better options: beggars rarely got any help to survive, and even a cloak like that was a treasure. So it would have to do.
He wrapped the kid with it, being careful to cover every visible skin. He was still unconscious and paler than a ghost, but his heart was beating as he grabbed the cloak to curl up under it.
Li Xiangyi hoped it wasn’t his imagination, but it seemed to be helping a little with the shivering.
Then the kid coughed, and it was a horrible, rasp sound.
He needs water, Li Xiangyi realized. So he took a deep breath and stood up again.
Dont you dare dying before i come back, he looked at the feverish boy. The he turned, and went to his second mission."
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I Never Give As Much As I Get by raggedybun (Ao3)
Summary:
At the end of Task Force Z Issue #11, Jason Todd blows up Powers International. What if Jason Todd had saved Harvey Dent in that explosion, but lost is life? Well, Harvey Dent would feel a sort of debt was owed to the man who chose to save him, despite the lies that unraveled around them up until the bitter end.
CW: Major Character Death
Relationships: Harvey Dent & Jason Todd, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Harvey Dent & Bruce Wayne
Characters: Jason Todd, Harvey Dent, Bruce Wayne
Additional Tags: major character death is jason, Comic: Task Force Z (2021), no beta we die like jason todd, Lazarus Pit (DCU), it's lazarus resin ao3 doesn't have a tag for that, Jason Todd Deserves Better, Medical Inaccuracies
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idgafabyou · 1 year
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out of breath dying in terror, my best friend the spiter the Webber, patches of skin sever holding a feather; "receve my final letter, here lays the Last left Beggar"
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psychoticwillgraham · 3 months
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after this vacation I’m not going in public for like two months bc my social battery is in microscopic pieces rn
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THE TALE OF FOOD
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BEGGAR'S CHICKEN - STEADFAST IN ADVERSITY 
BEGGAR'S CHICKEN : Since the two of you have such ambitions, then these properties will be given to you.
??? : Thank you, sir! Thank you, sir! 
BEGGAR'S CHICKEN : No need to thank me. I just hope you don't forget what you said and work hard to make a name for yourself in the future.
MASTER : Eh? What is this? Why are those two thanking him?
YUXIANG PORK : Heheh~ That guy probably thinks he's done some great deeds! The way I see it, though, what he's doing is meaningless~ 
BEGGAR'S CHICKEN : What...Do you mean?
YUXIANG PORK : Oops, looks like he heard me~ Then I'll cut to the chase. I almost laughed out loud, seeing someone fall for such low-level deception. That beggar is limping on his right leg. When he was wandering around here last time, he was limping on his left~
BEGGAR'S CHICKEN : !!!
Beggar's Chicken's face blanches, and his lips tremble--Although he was born a poor beggar, he was strong and broke out of that world. The two beggars' deceit drives him into a fury.
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HARBIN FRIED PORK : Alas, Master. It looks like one of Yuxiang Pork's rare moments of sincerity has hurt an upright and fragile soul...
As soon as Harbin Fried Pork finishes speaking, Beggar's Chicken chases him out like a gust of wind. 
MASTER : I think he's really angry, so quit it with the sarcastic remarks!
-
BEGGAR A : Today's a lucky day. I ran into a stupid guy--I just made up some nonsense about how to be a good man, and he paid us these taels of silver!
BEGGAR B : That guy looked very smart. I didn't expect him to be so easy to fool. I guess looks can be deceiving! 
BEGGAR'S CHICKEN : ...Stop right there.
BEGGAR A : B-Benefactor--!?
BEGGAR'S CHICKEN : You put on quite a show.
BEGGAR A : ...
BEGGAR A : Oh? So, you knew all along. Then what did you run over here for? Do you want to get back what you were foolish enough to give away? What a joke!
BEGGAR'S CHICKEN : My kindness--
BEGGAR'S CHICKEN : Is for those who still have hope in their hearts even though they've been left in the dust. It should never be given to you bunch of lazy vermin who betray the trust of others.
BEGGAR'S CHICKEN : In this world, people earn dignity by themselves, and you...Are not worthy! 
BEGGAR A : Hmph, you really are stupid. Now, you're going up against the two of us alone! I can't believe you have the guts to say...We're not worthy? Let's see how soft your mouth is when it meets our fists!
MASTER : He's not alone! 
BEGGAR'S CHICKEN : Master? Why are you--
MASTER : Of course, it's for the love and peace of the world and for inextinguishable justice!!!
MASTER : Ugh, this is more Braised Pork Hock's kind of thing!
BEGGAR'S CHICKEN : ...
MASTER : I was just so fired up by what you said just now, so I started talking nonsense--Anyway, let's go! Let's teach these jerks a lesson!
*FIGHT*
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BEGGAR'S CHICKEN : Master, it seems like you want to say something to me.
BEGGAR'S CHICKEN : Even if you tease me, I'll own up to it. Even though I was excited just now, and I gave those guys a piece of my mind...I...I really can't stand those kinds of...Those kinds of depraved people...
BEGGAR'S CHICKEN : But, this time, I know that I was too naive, and It's clear I don't adequately understand people...
MASTER : I'm not going to make fun of you. I wanted to tell you that you're honest and kind, and you have principles. As for everything else, just live and learn, and things will get better--
MASTER : Heheh, basically, you're a shining diamond and a good comrade that deserves praise!
BEGGAR'S CHICKEN : ...A diamond...
BEGGAR'S CHICKEN : The person you're describing...Sounds more like yourself...
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micallum · 8 months
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tiktok came to end me today
His abs are so interesting! 🔎🧐
I like how he always stands like that? I feel like I’ve seen many many photos and videos where he is sticking out his hip, hands shorts’ waistband and little bent knee going “😏”
And his belly button gives me anxiety, why it gotta be like that? Why it got to stick back out 😱😭
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ioniiaa · 1 month
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My Darling, My Honey
Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 8)
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8
Quick Notes:
You, the reader who is an artist, and had become Alastor's sweetheart, but unfortunately died too early.
Now, you're in hell.
Part 8:
Your arrival in hell was a quiet one, hardly a soul around to even notice you in what looked like a barren desert. But red. So much red everywhere. The sky, the ground, all of it- red.
You looked down at your hands, you looked different. You looked... not quite human.
"So this is hell, isn't it?" You said yourself out loud. "I thought it would be more... populated.. and.. different."
But what really caught your eye was a ring on the ring finger of your left hand. You don't recall ever wearing a ring there before you died.
But then it dawned on you... Alastor. This ring was from him. It had to be. Tears welled up in your eyes as you sniffled. It just had to be and you thanked whatever higher powers that existed for allowing this one thing to be brought with you to Hell after you died.
After walking for miles, hardly seeing any sign of civilization- or whatever it's called down here, you happen upon a small town situated in an oasis.
Well, a hell.. version of an oasis. It wasn't water in the center of this town, lava maybe? Blood? Either way, you figured this would be where you'd have to get your start and find your bearings as a new denizen of Hell.
After talking to some (begrudging) locals, you found out you were in what's called the "Ring of (insert whatever ring of hell you want to be in, except pride)"
With the basic information given to you (and then being told to figure the rest out, as the locals spat in your face) you figured you would have to settle here for now.
So settle you did, until you had enough resources to get to a bigger city.
In life, you were an artist, it was the one thing you felt like you could do best, so that's what you decided to do in Hell too.
For many years, you were the definition of a starving artist. You moved from town to town, city to city, with only enough money to get you through each day.
You didn't have a home to call your own, so you often had to find small little nooks and crannies in backstreets and alleyways at night.
During the day, you offered super cheap portraits on the street. Some sinners scoffed and looked down at you, calling you all sorts of degrading names that you had never heard before. Meanwhile other sinners were so vain, demanding you capture their beauty to their unrealistic standards. But you gave them what they wanted, after all, beggars can't be choosers down here.
This same cycle repeated for many long years, until a few decades later, you found yourself slowly working for higher-profile clients, starting from a variety of store owners until you eventually had your first Overlord client commission you to make a large-scale magnificent portrait of them.
After this big break, you began to get more commissions from other Overlords, both big and small.
It was around this time, decades after your arrival to Hell, that you found yourself not starving anymore. You didn't have to worry about the day-to-day, and even though you could afford a really nice place even in a big city of one of the rings of hell, you chose to keep it more low-key and stayed in a small, humble apartment.
It was easy to relocate and take the bare minimum essentials and move onto the next town, city, or ring of Hell.
Even after many decades in Hell, you never forgot about the love of your life- Alastor.
It's why you chose to live in such a small apartment, with not many material belongings except for your work/art materials.
You made it easy to pick up and move because you were searching for Alastor all these years.
You didn't want to sound insulting, but you knew he had to end up in Hell too.
But it was hard to find one specific person in all of hell. After all, you knew you had to tread carefully. Names and connections hold a lot of power and reign supreme down here.
Unfortunately, this led you to a bunch of dead ends or nothing at all. Investigating wasn't really your strong suit, but you did your damn best.
As you were reminiscing the past, both of your life on Earth and in the years you've resided in Hell (which doubled or was even close to tripling the number of years as you lived on Earth at this point), you got up from your chair and decided it was time to pack up again.
One of your acquaintances that was a lackey to one of the Overlords in the area let you know that a turf war was going to happen soon, so you figured now was the time to pack up and make your way to the only ring of hell you hadn't been to- the Pride ring.
Given the nature of your business, you had a feeling business would be booming in the Pride ring. You had a feeling that the Pride ring would be your best bet to make connections and find any potential leads on where the love of your life would be.
However, every time you traveled into a new ring, you had to sneak in as unnoticed as possible because "sinners" aren't supposed to be able to travel freely between the rings of hell.
It was a wonder that you still had ownership over your own soul after all these years, especially considering you've done many commissions for high-profile demons and Overlords throughout almost all of the rings of hell at this point.
You sigh as you bring your hood over your head and leave your home with just a briefcase of art supplies once more.
-> Part 9
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dotster001 · 6 months
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Hear me out here: The reader gives the basketball club boys a kiss on the cheek after they win a game. That's it. Go crazy. Go stupid
A/N: I was told to go stupid. Hopefully, this is stupid enough 😁
3k followers masterlist
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It's the whole reason he invited you. He knew the coach would be playing him today, and he was  certain that if he showed off his top tier skills, you wouldn't be able to help yourself! You'd be completely seduced by him.
He even took off his shirt at halftime, pretending he was trying to cool off, and dried off his (fake) sweat, slowly, with a towel. He asked Jamil to tell him when you were looking, but Jamil just told him he was being a dumbass, so he had to pay attention himself.
When the game was over, the NRC student section rushed the court, and you ran over to him with a grin. He greeted you with his own cocky smile, asking if you enjoyed yourself.
You told him he did amazing! And then came what he was waiting for. The congratulatory kiss on the cheek. He pretends he was flustered, but as I said, he planned this. He was really hoping you would kiss him on the lips, but beggars can't be choosers.
Next time though….ooh…next time he'll get a real kiss, whatever it takes!
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Didn't even know you were coming. Your presence was a present from Kalim. he didn't even notice you until the final shot of the game, and then realized you just watched him dominate the court, not a speck of mercy in his eyes.
He's worried. Even though he's allowed to be his own person now, he isn't used to people seeing him being anything other than average. He wasn't ready for you to see him with bloodlust in his eyes, as he completely dominated the other team.
He's bashful when he finds you waiting for him outside the locker room. Tries to play it cool. He has to gauge how you felt about his actions.
He quickly realizes that your reactions are favorable. You seem bashful, but excited. He can tell. You liked what you saw .
So he grins that smug ass grin of his, and decides to be a shit and tease you. Only for it to backfire when you fight back with your own teasing
If he wasn't flustered already, he is now that you just pressed a kiss to his cheek. His jaw drops, and his gut is telling him to snake whisper the memories out of your mind. He wasn't ready. It's not fair. He planned so carefully how he would woo you, and now it's all ruined.
He won't snake whisper the memories away, but his hand will gently touch the spot your lips met his skin, as he watches you walk away. He'll smile softly, until Kalim finds him and asks if he did a good job by inviting you!
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Invited you, then totally forgot about it. He fell into one of his moods an hour before the game, and was taking a nap on the bench.
Until half time…when he heard you cheering for the team. Suddenly, he's ready to play! Put him in, coach! He can do it!
Coach knows when Floyd cares, he's the star player, so he puts him in without hesitation. Any loss is quickly made up as Floyd dominates the court, all to impress you.
He's shameless about it. When he makes eye contact with you, he'll wink, roguishly. If he takes a shot, he'll shout, "Hey! Shrimpy!" Just to make sure you watch him.
The team quickly figures out why he's playing so well, and immediately start trying to figure out how to get you to every game. Floyd sees one of them mouth your name in the midst of their whispering, and he nearly forgets about the game, in favor of trying to fight the poor soul. Coach quickly stops him by reminding him you might not find that very nice. That puts Floyd back on track.
The second the buzzer sounds, and the game is over, he's bounding up the bleachers to swing you around in his strong arms. When he finally lets your feet touch the ground again, you tell him, with total admiration in your eyes, how impressed you were, and press a kiss to his cheek.
He's whining now, because you missed! Those aren't his lips! Don't kiss him unless you're gonna do it properly. 
Ah shit, now he's shoving spectators out of the way so he can lay you down and start kissing you "properly". No one can save you. And, frankly, only fools will even try to. The team and student section  sees you as a sacrifice to the eel, in exchange for a win. And Jade…well…he's not going to stop his brother from having a good time.
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theleaderism · 2 years
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One of the characteristics a leader should have - Controlment of Hands.
1. Don't submit yourself to the demand of your soul.
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gatheringbones · 2 years
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queer romance and sexuality recommendations:
the art of giving and receiving: the wheel of consent by betty martin
leatherfolk: radical sex, people, politics, and practice, edited by mark thompson
gay spirit/gay soul/gay body edited by mark thompson
fierce femmes and notorious liars by kai cheng thom
confessions of the fox by jordy rosenberg
s/he by minnie bruce pratt
the faggots and their friends in between revolutions, by larry mitchell
bushfire/afterglow edited by karen barber
best lesbian erotica volumes 1-13 published by cleis press
the beggar of love by lee lynch
sometimes she lets me: best butch femme erotica edited by tristan taormino
why are faggots so afraid of other faggots?: flaming challenges to masculinity, objectification, and the desire to conform, edited by mattilda bernstein sycamore
queer sex by juno roche
we too: essays on sex work and survival, edited by natalie west
cruising: an intimate history of a radical pastime, by alex espinoza
blood, marriage, wine & glitter, by s. bear bergman
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bloodycassian · 7 days
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To Be Wed part two - The Chase
NSFW 18+ MDNI - Part two of To Be Wed. READ WARNINGS BEFORE CONTINUING.
WARNINGS / Themes - breeding/pregnancy (not mentioned in scene.) primal play that INVOLVES MAJOR CNC THEMES. Knife play. Edging/teasing. defensive/territorial men. ABO style dicks (knotting. Monster dick style). Cum play. Cuckholding. Voyeur. Outdoor sex + EXHIBITIONISM. Gagging. Forced squirting. pinning/restraint. Eventual pregnancy.
DP - Vaginal and Anal at same time. Vaginal and oral at same time. Vaginal penetration. Anal penetration. Oral penetration. Polyamory.
Hope this one has your butterflies doing the freak. Requests/ideas for kinks are open.
M D N I - 18+ NSFW. READ WARNINGS BEFORE CONTINUING.
Something was wrong with Azriel. Something deeply disturbing in his mind that he couldn’t ignore for more than a few moments in a day. He was obsessed. More so than he was with any ordinary thing that piqued his interest. He was completely, and utterly enthralled with the female that had signed her life away so easily.
He couldn’t get enough. Of any of it. From being their bodyguard to their dates, to the sacred moments when he’d fuck her for Rhys. He was loyal to a fault but this was different. This was a hunger that had never been known to him, and he hadn’t an idea of how to satiate it.
Watching Rhys cum inside her served him, he greatly enjoyed watching - but a part of him questioned what would happen when the babe finally came to fruition. After over three months of dedicated fucking - and weekly fertility potions he, Rhys and the female were taking, he feared the time eas coming soon.
The anxiety of the looming date was something that had him searching for alternatives - going to pleasure houses when she wasn't in the mood, but finding nothing to be nearly as stimulating. He’d even tried to recreate the situation, hiring both male and female whores to serve him.
He hadn’t even finished.
Fear and frustration riddled his days when he wasn’t near her.
+
“Nothing new. I suggest two potions, if you can stomach it.” The healer - Madja, Rhys had informed you each visit - took her hands from just your public bone and brought out the oils she kept below the table.
“Let me do it, this time.” Rhys said, his tone light but saddened. She hesitated, her thick round glasses glinting in the filtered sun coming through the frosted window. It was a cold evening in Velaris, the last of winter going out with a bitter sigh. The skies would lighten and be warm soon, hopefully it would be after the summer months when a child took root in your belly.
The oils served as both a softening to your skin for any potential swelling from the potion, as well as a ritualistic method of fertility from another culture that the healer had mentioned on your first visit here. You’d been trembling and too anxious to recall exactly what it signified and to whom.
The fear came mainly from the judgment. Though the female hadn’t batted an eye when Rhsy has explained the situation, you were still met with stares and upturned noses in the streets when you ventured alone. The High Lord’s broodmare. The child-barer. The Whore. The titles were new, but the glares were something you were accustomed to as a thief and beggar before.
“West to East, High Lord.” Madja gave him a glare, and Rhys grinned. “Opposite of the sun cycle.” She enunciated the word, leading you to believe he’d done some rotten spellwork before by not following her directions.
“Of course.” He sketched a small bow, and you smacked him on the shoulder.
Azriel couldn’t help the grin that pulled at his lips. She was… He couldn’t describe it any other way aside from ideal. A tolerant soul with a mouth that-
He cut his thoughts off right then and there. Now was not the time for such ideas.
“Thank you.” You said, making meaningful eye contact with the wrinkled female. She had a kind enough look about her, but there was something about the way she carried herself that had your senses on edge.
Her smile was small, tugging at the corners of her leathery skin. “You’ll be a fine mother.” She nodded.
Despite her words, you worried you may never be able to uphold your end of the Bargain.
The tattoo at your clavicle ached.
+
You were no longe sore after their knots would fill you. Your body had grown accustom to the wonderful stretch of it, taking them with eager ease now. But even though he bit and lapped at you with the same passion as ever, Azriel’s cock seemed less ridigid, the roundness at the base hardly making an appearance even after several minutes of fucking into you.
“Stop.. stop-” You panted. As much as you would have love to cum on him, without his usual size it wasn’t going to happen. That was why he’d always gone second, coaxing that spot inside you over and over again until you broke upon him.
Your legs trembled as he rolled off of you, falling in the middle of you and Rhys. The High Lord handed him a towel, which he draped over his half hard cock. A flick of the hand and Azriel’s shadows set to work on you, collecting at the apex of your thighs in a cool, writhing bundle.
“Stop, Az-” The words were strangled, with the skilled tentacles already setting to work.
They disappeared, going into mist at the command. “Tell me what’s going on.” You demanded, turning on your side to face him. Rhys sat up, his brows pulled together.
Azriel sighed, and shook his head. “It’s nothing.” He put it simply, a male of few words. You knew better. “Tell me or-”
“Or what? You’ll leave? There’s no breaking that bond on your skin. Not until you bear a child.” He spat the words, his features hard, then softening the moment his eyes landed on you. He saw the way you recoiled, your body sagging and the distraught look on your face.
“Azriel-” Rhys began, the tone in authority ringing true and rattling your bones.
“I’m sorry.” Az covered his face with his hands, the raised pattern of his scars interrupted by the smooth lines of veins. “I’m sorry.” He sighed, and sat up as well.
He scooted back, his wings pinched tight against his back as he spoke. “I cant- Ahh.” He rubbed at his face again, his neck and cheeks going a deeper shade. You’d enver seen the shadowsinger so unsure, embarrassed even.
“I fear once you bear a child, that my life may be empty without you.” He said it while looking into your eyes, his own shining true with his statement. Rhys stiffened, his eyes going to you in part questioning himself. He couldnt’ deny he’d had similar thoughts.
“I have no intention of leaving the best sex I’ve ever had only because I am no longer contractually obligated to the sex.” You could have laughed at the obserdity of the idea. You’d called him your own pleasure keeper to his face, and he’d not only laughed but accepted the title. How could he think such things?
“A child may lessen passions for a short while, but from what I’ve heard…” You leaned in close to Azriel’s rounded ear. “Some females find their desires heightened after the babe’s born.”
He turned and looked at you, his eyes darting from your eyes to your lips, then to your womb. He placed his hand there and sighed. “I apologize. My words reflect my fears, not how I feel about your faith.” He paused, and when Rhys spoke it was soft.
“I too fear the pregnancy for the same reason. As ridiculous as it is, it makes me wish to not cum, so I may keep the pleasure of this.” His mind reached to yours, and you allowed him entry. Both you and Azriel sucked in a breath at the sight of you riding the shadowsinger, from Rhys’s angle.
“That-” Azriel pushed the high lord from his mind, his cock already hardening from the sight. “-is why I can barely stay hard. I cant stop thinking of not cumming.”
An idea came to you then. A proof of sorts, that even if you did attempt to flee the deal, that them finding you was something you’d already anticipated. You weren’t sure if it would fix their fears, but it did remind you of something you’d always desired.
You straightened, then focused your mind. You’d been able to show them small things before, and now you tried again. “Allow me to show you something that may help.” You mind-spoke to them. It felt like mostly Rhys there, halfway into your mind, but he’d be able to relay the thought to Azriel.
You showed him the images, the birdseye view you imagined of yourself running, panting in a forest midday as you evaded something. Trained wolves and guards shouted behind you, and through the fear of being imprisoned, there was the arousal. The situation had only happened a few times, but each time there’d been that undercurrent that you couldn’t deny. The pleasure that pulsed through you with every stretch of your legs.
The idea of being caught, and made to do whatever they wished. As their prisoner. As their game. You swapped the guards for the night kissed wind of them, their presence, both them hunting you instead.
“Keep what you catch.” Was a phrase hunters used in the most desperate of times. Were they desperate enough?
“Criminal.” Rhys purred in approval. He passed the image to Azriel, who hissed and looked to you with surprise in his eyes. “Filthy thing-” He cursed.
+
Rhys summoned a set of wooden swords from a pocket of air, disturbing the chill breeze that rolled through the valley. The sun shone down on the trees, but did not reach the forest floor. The pines swayed and whispered, making serene music where you stood with them.
“You’ll need to break away from us first.” Rhys explained, twirling the sword from one hand to the other, testing the balance.
“If you manage to get a necklace from either of us, we’ll delay our pursuit by five minutes.” You looked to the long corded stone at his chest, the color of it nearly black. It shimmered with something, though. Azriels was more straightforward, a deep red jasper that he pulled from beneath his leathers. At the same time, Rhys shook the potion that he’d been determined to show off with. The one you’d jokingly suggested he should get to prevent him cheating in this endavor. It was to keep him from winnowing, apparently.
“I’m taking you both on?” Your voice rose with protest.
“Not yet-” Azriel muttered with a grin.
“Your choice who you’d like to face first.” Rhys said cordially.
You swung the sword, the weight of it unfamiliar and clunky in your hand.
Your eyes narrowed, and you pointed the tip to Rhys. “You’ll be first.”
He squared himself, taking up an expert fighting stance. Once he nodded, you ran at him.
This was only for show. He parried your strike easily, knocking the weapon to the ground beside him. You raised your hands in defense, then shot out at him with your mind - spearing him with the filthiest mental images you’d conjured over the last few months. He stuttered a step, freezing in place with his eyes wide. You struck, ripping the necklace from him and taking off into the trees while Azriel cackled behind you.
+++++++++
The blood was rushing in your ears, your legs singing with the effort of each step. The slickness in your cunt coudln’t be denied. You embraced it, finally able to accept that you did enjoy this. Running from males that would do exactly what they wanted to you. It sent a shiver through you before, but now… Knowing that they wouldn’t bring you true harm - it made you stumble more than a few times.
Rhys had planned this well. He’d taken you to a well of a valley floor, knowing you’d have to climb to get out. It’d give them a better shot at finding you faster. As the trees became thinner, the groundcover got thicker. Ferns and wiry shrubs reached out to whip your pumping arms and tangle in your hair.
You didn’t have to fight through it for long. Their trained breaths were behind you in only a few minutes, but you were determined to make it to the rushing water you heard ahead.
“You wont make it far.” Rhy’s voice bounced off the trees.
You kept running. Their laughing was upon you in moments, and you jolted to a stop before a wide, rushing stream. You’d nearly fallen in, your shoes even soaked with the groundwater that lapped at the shore.
Arms were around your midsection, whipping you around and attempting to trip you to the ground. You stood with wide footing though, and kicked back against the male - struggling against him with a ferocity that he didn’t expect. Rhys grunted, and Azriel was no longer laughing.
They took their roles seriously. It made your stomach flip, a wild - feral smile spreading across your face at Azriel holding a knife before you while he watched you fight against Rhys’s hold. “Stop now and make this easier.” Azriel’s voice was firm, commanding.
Rhys managed to pin your arms behind you, and you found yourself unable to kick back against him without losing what balance you had. Azriel stepped forward, knife extended to rest at your throat. His knckles met your collarbone, just above where that branding mark was. The heat of him sent your body alight even more. Rhys’s scent spiked with arousal and you couldn’t help but grind back against the bulge behind you.
Azriel’s hand went to your trousers pocket, digging in there with a few fingers, slowly, teasingly - cocking his head to the side when your jaw clenched. Rhys was breathing heavily behind you, and not from their run through the forest.
Az pulled the necklace free, and tutted his tongue disapprovingly. “Guess you like being up in that pillory, dont you?” He said teasingly. “Repeat criminals hardly ever change. Perhaps it’d be better if you saw a cell for a time-”
“I have money.” You gasped when Rhys placed something cold around your wrists.
“Stolen money’s no good to those who uphold the law of the night court.” Az drawled, and Rhys breathed a laugh at how true that was. Azriel was the one sent when something was to be dealt with. Rhys’s own personal bounty hunter. Azriel saw the connection being made. In this game, he suddenly became more than just a guard in his role, he was him. He was the Shadowsinger, sent to capture you. His eyes darkened, waiting for you to play along - to tell him exactly what you wanted.
“Are you willing to make a trade?” You panted, straining against whatever Rhys had placed on your wrists. He stood beside you now, holding you by the nape of the neck, his thumb tracing slow circles there - suggesting what was to come? Or playing up the corrupted guard role?
His knife trailed to your breast, pulling the low cut top away from your skin. His eyes went from your breasts to your eyes, and back again.
“I have what I came here for, thief. What more could I bother with from you?” Even with the sharp words, heat coursed through you. His knife pulled at the strap of your top, then let it snap back onto your skin. The scent of arousal was heavy now, thick and encouraging to the growing fire in your belly.
“I offer you myself, should you let me go free after.”
He bit down on a grin, then leaned in close, right beside Rhys when he said “Why would I barter when I can take what I want?”
The knife was gone, both his hands instead going to bend you to his will. One hand pulled you forward at the lower back, the other went straight to cup your pussy through your pants, the heel of his palm grinding down on to you.
A surprised cry came from your lips, but it was consumed by his lips on yours. His tongue was aggressive and immediate, forcing his way into your mouth, tasting you there, as he palmed against your clit. your hips flexed to meet him, and there was another set of hands at your breast, cutting your shirt free.
+
Rhys should have been appalled with himself. This was disgusting, horrid behavior but-
He couldn’t dispute the way Azriel’s aggression made his cock harden. How her helpless cries and half-attempts at getting away from Az made Rhys want to restrain her even more and force his cock down her throat until she choked on it.
He took a shuddering, uneven breath and reminded himself that this was what she’d wanted.
‘The more aggression the better.’ She’d said with a devious wink when going over safewords and off limits ideas.
So, Rhys took out the back of her knees, forcing her to fall before Azriel. The shadowsinger gripped the back of her head, and forced her face into the front of his pants, grinding his clothed dick over her cheek in a humiliating way. Degrading and so, so fucking hot. Rhys bit his lip at the sight of it. She attempted to pull back, but it only earned a yank of the hair, a warning to behave.
Rhys was out of his clothes quickly, the pine needles beneath his feet hardly registering against the surge of heat that swelled in him. Gods, his cock ached. It was only thanks to the potion he'd taken that there was a chase at all. If it were any less potent he likely would have ended up winnowing right in front of you before you'd crested the hill.
He gave himself a pump, then another before taking over, wrenching her face away from Azriel and pushing his slickened head to her lips. With her hands still bound, she had no defense aside from the way she pursed them together.
“Difficult thing.” Rhys tisked, then pinched her nose shut. She began getting red in the face, and when Azriel was done undressing, she’d run out of breath. Her mouth opened in a gasp, which Rhys quickly took for his own.
The heated wetness around him had a surge of precome leaking from him with eagerness. “Fu-uuck-” He ground out the word, reveling in the perfection of her mouth a moment before pulling out, and fisting a hand in her hair. The sloppy wetness that dripped from her lips only encouraged him more. He shoved her down on him, his head tipping down the back of her throat and making her eyes water. Azriel grunted in approval, his cock twitching and his hips flexing forward Into his palm at the scene.
Azriel’s shadows were a thick, writhing mess around him, waiting to be used for something. He allotted them a task, setting them free upon her legs - to spread them, and to tear through the leggings she wore. Not completely off, but enough so he’d be able to fuck her through them - and to get a taste of the arousal he’d followed the entire run here.
+
Rhy’s dick was ryhmic enough that you knew when you could take a breath, when you could gulp down enough air to take his next few strokes. What you hadn’t been prepared for, was the way Azriel’s shadows spread you legs, making you completely unable to fight against them, or even stand if you wanted to.
You were fully at their mercy now, and it made you burn with that knowledge. Your pussy clamped around pathetic emptiness, Writhing with want.
Drool fell from your lips in thick rivers mixed with Rhys’s precome. Your senses told you that Azriel was still near, and that there was something cold on your ass, but you couldn’t see anything other than Rhys’s abdomen. He supported you fully, his hands in your hair keeping you from falling forward, but it also kept you blind to everything else. You attempted to lift a leg and kick backwards, but it only made you gag on his cock without the needed support of both legs.
He pulled free after that, glistening trails of spit coating him. Before you could fall forward, a hand was at the tie on your wrists, holding you upright. Rhys nodded, then there was a ripping sound, and the chill on your ass was gone. You sucked in a breath, and there was suddenly a towel before you, and Rhys was sitting. So close you could feel the heat radiating from him, you were lowered and lowered, until your cheek rested against his thigh, staring at his reddedned dick like a worshipper. There was no denying you were.
Azriel’s tongue was hot against your hole - probing, coating you with his spit. You arched, gasping in surprise but there was nowhere you could move, your head rolled to one side, so you could bite down on Rhys’s thigh, but it didn’t keep Azriel from fucking your ass. His tongue darted over it again and again, working you open slowly - your surprised gasps turned into needy moans, the stimulation making you a living fire. You could feel the wetness soaking your leggings, and you wondered how large of a wet spot appeared there.
“Put your mouth to use.” Rhys grunted, his tone almost angry. He lifted your head and guided you to his cock, his ass flexing - gods he needed this, badly. Your mind buzzed with the satisfatiction of it. Though you were bent at their will, you were driving them mad.
Azriel’s managed to work two fingers into your ass before trailing hid tongue downward, using the flat of his tongue against your slickened pussy. His fingers pumped deep, flexing outwards to stretch your hole. It was a sweet thing, tender though the situation did not call for it. They’d given you plenty of toys to train for just this.
He hummed at the taste of you, at the heat and need he could sense building in you. Your pussy clenched around his tongue. “Filthy thing-” He said to himself, the sharp crack of one of his hands landing on your asscheek.
Rhys pulled your mouth from him, and you fell forward, lifting enough so that you could press against his chest instead of his thigh - a small rebellion, you could only do so much now. He shimmied down, so he could be below you and line up with your slick folds. You groaned when his tip pressed eagerly into your slit, rocking back against him as much as you could with your legs as exhausted as they were. Was this the real reason they’d had your starting point be downhill?
The heat of Azriel’s cock joined, also pressing into your pussy. A swell of fear threatened to overtake you, then. There was no way you could take them both-
Rhys sucked in a breath, and he scooted down a bit farther, so your head rested against his collarbone now. His cock pressed at your ass, and your eyes rolled back.
Azriel knew he wouldn’t last long. Not with her being so fucking compliant in this - He forced himself to focus, willing his need to dampen for a moment. He guided Rhys’s cock to the hole he’d worked first, pumping his high lord’s cock with his saliva - coating him with spit before pressing the rounded tip to her hole. The sound she made had his body rolling, uncontrollably thrusting forward into the air like a godsdamned animal.
He now wished he’d taken Rhys’s offer and had the male suck him off earlier in the day.
Rhys blew out a breath as he sunk in, deeper and deeper, until he couldn’t move much more. Only about half of him was fully seated, but it was more than enough. Azriel could tell by now what her desperate signs were for when she was close, and he was glad he wasn’t the only one overstimulated and ready to cum.
“Taking him so fucking good.” He praised in her ear, brushing the hair to one side so he could see her expression. “Gonna fill you up, make you both of ours.” He was muttering, when she rolled her hips and the tip of him brushed her heated folds. His hand cracked across her ass again, drawing a strangled groan from Rhys.
Azriel smirked. He knew how she tightened up when she had her ass smacked. The high lord’s eyes smoldered, and Azriel caught him in a quick, wet kiss before leaning back and taking his own cock into his hand.
He rubbed his tip against your folds, slickening himself. “This is what happens to thieves in the Night Court.” He smiled, then thrust into you in one long, smooth motion. Your body arched, toes curling inside your boots as he bottomed out. Full. So fucking full and still, desire demanded your attention. The fire was not dulling, like it normally did after one of them entered you - no, it seemed to grow even more aggressive. A flame that kept spreading, throughout your thighs and into your belly, the warmth spread and the need of them both - for more made your teeth gnash together.
The thin wall that separated their cocks from each other had you rocking back onto them both, earning what fractions of inches you could. Rhys adjusted, his hips flexing upwards to give you more, but it still wasn’t enough.
Some mental communication passed from him to Rhys, and your arms were free, your shoulders singing in pain as they were wrenched forwards, then re-tied in front of you. Rhys lifted them, then brought your hands around the back of his neck. Still just as trapped as before, only now you could at least support yourself.
It was a blessing. You rocked back into every one of Azriel’s thrusts, earning whispered filth from his lips. The wet sound of your pussy around him filled the forest, along with your breathy moans. Gods, with Rhys so paitenetly nudging into you, and with Azriel fucking you with such ferocity… your muscles quivered, earning hesitation and sharp hisses from them both.
You still had some power, here.
+
His shaft rubbed with Rhys’s making him even more needy than he’d anticipated. His knot was swelling quickly, every instinct in him yearning to spill inside of her- to lock his knot in place and fuck her through her orgasms upon it.
Watching Rhys’s small thrusts into her ass was not an option. He’d looked down once already and nearly came from the sight of it. So instead he watched the high lord, and the back of her gorgeous hair. He watched the way her body would flex and roll, then squeeze down on them.
His knot was catching already, and Rhys could tell. The high lord glanced from her to the shadowsinger. “Take her, make her come.” He encouraged. The mental image of the three of them appeared, Rhys filling her mouth with Azriel locked inside her pussy.
“Not the plan-” Azriel ground out, forcing his desire to lessen. He focused instead on the sound of the brook that she’d nearly ran into. He wanted to fill her, to fuck her ass and her pussy together until cum dripped from both holes and-
“Azriel - I won’t cum. Not now, anyway. Fuck her right.” The husky words were all his willpower could stand. He grunted, buiting the inside of his cheek and pulled his cock free from the sodden leggings he’d ripped. Her gasp and protest had his ego soaring.
Rhys worked himself free of her ass, and from around her bound arms. He spat in his palm, and began stroking himself, his knot hardly formed. Azriel felt a pang of jealously at the male’s control, the restraint he had.
Without your arms bound, and with their hesitation at what to do next, you took it as an opportunity. You sung your arms around, forming them into fists, and nearly caught Azriel in the head with them - but a thick tentacle of shadow halted you.
He struck an instant later. One hand on your collarbone,he shoved you back onto the pokey forest floor, and you clambored against him. The shadow locked your arms above your head, but it didn’t deter your fight.
You brought your knees to your chest and pushed at him, though he pressed down on you with the mass of his muscle. One hand was all it took to pin you to the floor, you’d make sure he’d have to fight more than that.
“Vicious theif-” He grunted with the knee you threw to his ribs,but it’d been your folly. With his other hand, he brought a leg up so it was flush against his chest, your foot resting beside his ear.. You couldn’t kick him away now, but you didn’t want to. You’d wanted this - wanted the fight, wanted to see what lengths he’d take to get to your pussy.
He hadn’t disappointed. He gripped both your legs and pulled them tight to his chest, raising your ass off the ground. He swiped the tip of his cock over your clit, rubbing deliciously. Your hips rolled. Thankfully, he wasn’t a male of vengeance - not now anyway. He entered you, and resumed the same pace he’d had before. Long, dragging strokes that had your ass clapping against his thighs.
Your folds were tighter in this position, and the stretch it brought seared through you. Your body was capable, but this was a position that had you seeing stars. Your body ached to cum, but you held off. This was supposed to last longer.
Rhys joined, kneeling at your side to dip between your pressed thighs. You pulled at the restraints, testing the shadows above your head. They did not budge. Your walls squeezed him, and his eyes squeezed shut. “I’m-” You panted, not wanting to admit that you were close.
“Good. I’m not gonna cum until you do first, sweetheart.” Azriels words rang true, You could feel how much his knot had swollen from your struggle, and a delightful purr of ecstasy filled you. You’d definitely be getting punished more in the future.
Azriel’s cock rammed into you, he flicked his hips forward and up at that perfect angle that he knew would set you off. Your legs shook, wetness dribbling down to your ass with every thrust. “That’s right..” Rhys purred, his fingers leaving your clit to play with himself instead.
You didn’t need his fingers. Not with Azriel fucking you like this, with every stroke brutally pushing into your most sensitive spot- hot white pleasure surged through you. His knot pressed at your entrance, stretching your lips apart with each re-entry.
In this position, your tight heat was already something that had him barely hanging on, and it had him more impatient than he’d ever been. He’d said he wouldn’t cum yet. He couldn’t. So he fucked into you with stokes he knew would have you begging, getting you to the edge in record time. He could tell from the way your cheeks heated, from how red your lips were - and from the deadly way your pussy gripped at the base of his knot. He swore. Every stroke became harder to remain in control.
A scarred hand went to your throat, gently pressing there - control. Control and power and you were nothing but theirs -his- Azriel’s plaything. A fucktoy for him- Your mind spiraled, overtaken by the inferno inside of you.
Your insides spasmed around him, a gush of hot liquid gushing from your pussy. The knife’s edge of pleasure. The precipice of a violent orgasm held you for a moment, then rocked through you. You trembled, pleasure consuming everything, setting your very bones alight with the exquisite orgasm. So intense and burning that your sight was lost from you for the first few moments.
Azriel’s knot came back along with your vision, amplifying the pleasure to an extent you could barely register as you quivered around him, squeezing him tight inside of you. The panting, shuddering breathing, the tight hold he had on your thighs as he spilled into you had you squirming again, your wrecked body contending for another orgasm, even while the waves of your first careened through you.
His cum filled you, hoarse moans falling from his lips as he still fucked into you. The small movements of his swollen knot inside urging that second round of pleasure through you.
Rhys was swearing darkly, his own knot more formed than before now. You couldn’t help but smile at that. Azriel’s hands shook when he parted your legs. You let them fall behind him, knees hooking weakly around him. He lifted your hips and fucked you softly, his knot pulling at your entrance like he knew you enjoyed.
He rode you through six more orgasms before he’d softened enough to pull free. After, Rhys had devoured your sensitive clit, earning double digits before the golden sunset painted the trees a fiery orange.
“We should go soon.” You muttered, breathless with both of them lying at either side of you.
“Shut up.” Rhys said, voice hoarse as he fingered you - slickening your clit with the remnants of Azriel’s cum.
+
You’d borrowed a coat from Azriel, seeing how they’d torn yours during your frenzied, handsy encounter.
The walk to the nearest town had made your already trembling legs even weaker, but you’d made it without too much whining. Rhys was still unable to winnow, the potion you’d challenged him to take still in his bloodstream.
The first scent of food hit you hard. Your mouth watered at the smell of buttered and fried goods. The gnawing hunger in your gut whined. The way they had you working for them was proving to be a huge calorie deficit, and you were starved.
“Ill find us something subtle.” Azriel said simply, then he was gone - sucked into the shadows that lingered outside the town.
“Let’s get you something nice.” Rhys smiled, his eyes grazing over you with a predator’s insight. Your tights had been something of a display once they were done with you, and the only thing saving you from looking like a hired whore was the length of Azriel’s coat covering your bottom.
+
“What in the name of the Mother are you wearing?” Azriel’s clipped tone revealed near anger, and your cheeks heated with the eyes that darted towards you.
The place he’d chosen was a busy, dark and shambled thing. Easy to be lost in, perfect for your party. To be expected from the Shadowsinger. What you hadn’t expected was the way his cheeks went bright at the sight of you. The low cut tunic and leather pants weren’t unusual in this area, but them being skin tight drew more than just your partners eyes.
“It was all they had.” You provided simply.
“And doesnt she look delectable?” Rhys encouraged, his eyes barely leaving your body to look to Azriel.
The shadowsinger stood silent, stoic as a statue for a moment before sitting back in the horseshoe shaped booth. You sat between them, at the apex and looked over the menu.
Rhys laughed suddenly, and Azriel snarled. You looked up, to the windows and scanned the crowd. The fae at the table beside the window hid behind their coats and drinks. You looked to Rhys, puzzled.
“He doesn’t like the other males looking.” he explained.”I think it’s admirable. Who could help themselves, with you looking like that?”
“She’s not for them.” Azriel growled, making your stomach flip. The look on his face promised violence.
You reached over, gripping his muscled thigh. “It’s alright.” You promised, circling your fingers low there, tracing the seam of his leathers up and up until he caught your hand in his.
He let out a breath, his head tipping back. The menu in his other hand grew wrinkled marks from where he gripped it. “Easy.” He warned. Rhys grinned, and shifted closer to you.
The criminal in you delighted at his reaction. Once he let go of your hand, you idly browsed the menu, using it as a distraction before pacing your hand back on his leg, inching upwards in small, sneaky motions until resting at his hip, only a few inches away from the buttons of the trousers he wore.
Rhys took your other hand once the server had taken your orders, and was not discreet in the way he placed it directly atop the hardness in his pants. You sucked in a breath, and he didn’t even bother to look at you. You pressed down on him, squeezing him rhythmically. Azriel’s own member responded, twithinching beneath the cloth.
“Greedy, filthy… delectable thing.” Rhys mind-spoke, his tone a purr that had your thighs squeezing together tight.
There was a splash of liquid, the clattering of drinks and cold wetness covered your shoulder, running down your chest. The bar quieted, then picked back up an instant later. You sat up in shock, avoiding the water that covered your seat. The server was apologizing, but you could only hear the muttered swearing coming from Rhys.
His eyes were locked on to your soaked breasts, the heat there immeasurable.
The world turns black and silver in a breath, the table is shattered, knocked to the ground outside your booth and Rhys is before you, his head going to your top and palming the fabric, hid tongue going to the lap at the wetness on your skin st your breast.
Your breasts fall out of the top easily as Rhys unlaces the front. There are gasps, the sound of chairs being moved and laughs all around. None of it matters. Rhys’s hot mouth is the only thing your mind can narrow in on.
The servers’ apologies go silent, and there is a low rumbling of voices and shouts that you can pay no attention to, not as Azriel is gripping the back of your head and forcing his tongue into your mouth. His tongue goes from slow and tender to quick and demanding, forcing your own tongue to still in your mouth as he explores.
The pleasure of Rhys’s mouth on your nipples is something that has your weakend legs shaking. Once the laces are loosened, he pulls the top up over your head, his eyes wild with need as he consumes you in his own hot, desperate kiss that has you rolling your body into his.
Azriel is gone for a moment, and Rhys is turning you, pushing you back until your legs hit something solid - the window table. When you open your eyes, the crowd that had been closest is now watching you, hungry looks in their eyes.
The fear and shame gripped you for a moment, and you covered your chest. “Rhys we should-”
“They’ll deal with it.” He growled. “Most of them enjoy this kind of entertainment, they’re lucky we’re not changing them. Consider it a donation.” He said in that high lord’s arrogant voice that you’ve come to know.
The curtains fall over the fogged windows,, opaque and filled with holes, smelling of dust and stained. While Rhys consumes you in another kiss, Azriel appears at your side again, his face flushed. His hands are on your thighs, petting you, rubbing his hands across the too-tight trousers and fisting a hand in the cloth. He guides you to sit atop the table, where Rhys kneels before you.
His fingers hook around the belt loops of the pants. “Off, this time.” He commands, his tone giving no room for debate. You comply, using his shoulders to lift yourself off the table enough to let them see you - to let the entire bar see you fully.
Azriel is stripping off as well, unashamed by the looks the strangers give him. None of them bad, mostly admiring. Some of the crowd even begin touching themselves, rubbing and stroking over their clothes as Rhys takes his first lick of you.
His tongue moves slowly, and thoroughly on your clit - lapping at you with a tenderness that had your mind going to a much more leisurely place. He rolls, flicks and kisses there like a male without another purpose. He has you arching up, grinding to him within only a few minutes.
Azriel strokes himself at the same pace as Rhysand’s movements, the two of them matching pace like they weren’t surrounded by others watching. You turn your head to take Azriel into your mouth, but he denys you this. He takes your hand instead, having you stroke him while he watches the crowd. In part, he’s looking for threats, any that would dare to interrupt them - another part because he enjoyed the way the strangers stared, desire and envy filling their gazes.
Rhys’s fingers enter you, then pause, he plays with you at the entrance, noting what movements make you squirm and buck. He loves this. He revels in these moments where his patience isn’t worn so thin. He doesn’t want to have you fully on display, though. Not now. He’d rather have you screaming for him on his own bed.
So he thrusts his fingers deep inside you and curls them, angling in that spot that Azriel is able to brush against with the tip of his cock - but it’s never this firm. It’s never as intense and mind-splitting as either of their fingers are. It ignites a new flurry of need inside of you so quickly, and they know it. It forces you from being moderately turned on to nearly cumming in their hands in moments, and knowing that, they abuse it.
They flick at that spot with brutal efficiency, knowing exactly when to stop because your legs begin to shake with the force of the beginning of the orgasm they build. They’re cruel brutes, but you’d never had better sex. Maybe having someone brutal was a requirement after being with them. If you’d ever need anyone else.
He pulls his fingers out, and puts them to your lips, your wetness tart and sweet against your tongue.. You take them greedily, sucking them clean and playing with his fingers just how you would their cocks. It always drives them mad, and you know it. Unstable heat courses through your body, your legs trembling, hooking around Rhys’ hips with the urging, pulsing demands of an orgasm.
But he holds his fingers there in your mouth, pinning your mouth open, and nods to Azriel. He steps closer, and slides his cock into your mouth while Rhys restraints you open.
The order is clear enough, and you don’t attempt to close your lips around the shadowsinger. Control. Rhys and Azriel are always battling for control in their own ways. Something about it turns all of you on so incredibly - the proof of the fact apparent in the taste of Azriel’s thick precome. The tip of his cock rubs against the back of your tongue a few times, coating him with your spit, and Rhys finally relents and allows your jaw free from his grasp. You take Azriel into your mouth, moaning at the sensation - the weight of him there.
Rhys nudges into your pussy while you’re sucking Azriel, and there’s distant curses and hisses of pleasure. Coats fall to the floor, and you’re pretty sure you hear others moaning as they begin fucking as well.
Azriel pulls away, leaving dribble on your mouth when he does. He steps back and gets atop the table behind you, his cock hanging heavy right above your head.
Your legs pull Rhys in much faster than he was intending on, and because of this, his eyes go wide, his lips pull back from his teeth in a growl. He holds down your hip with a hard, bruising hand while his other goes to your neck - pinning you in place. “You’re mine, and I’ll take you how I please.” He growls out, leaning down to say it right into your ear.
Your body melts, relaxing fully to his control - to the demands he’s placed. A part of you wants to rebel, to kick at him and see just how far he’d take this, but the other part of you says that he’d likely not let you cum if you questioned him now. Not in front of these people. Even if they didn’t realise that he was their high lord, he would not be undermined in this moment.
“Yes sir.” You said voice strained around his light hold, giving him a coy grin when he pulled away to look at your face.
His cock surged, tipping up inside you and making your hips roll as much as they could. You wanted to fold your legs together, to have him fuck you how Azriel did earlier because this - this was too much restraint, too much easy and slow fucking for what your desire reqired.
Your insides were soaked, gushing with need and he was here taking you as if you were his bride. You whined low in your throat, wanting to squirm and have him fuck you.
You close your eyes, no matter how much you love seeing Azriel above you, all the movement from the crowd is growing distracting and you need to focus on feeling. The way Rhys’s cock slides in and out of you with perfect, wet slaps. The way he pulls out to the tip, solid and heavy and teasing at your entrance, before slipping right back in. The crowd echos your moans, growing louder with each thrust.
Rhys feels Like a god in this position. He pounds into her so sweetly that it barely rocks the table. The feral sounds she's making are a symphony of yearning and hunger. He can't stand the slow pace, his knot is already halfway engorged and he has little patience left for the power game he plays.
He slides you down off the table, leaving your hips supported only by the strength of his hands. You curl your legs around him, pulling him in deeper and -gods, a shocked gasp leaves you at the size of his knot as your movement forces it in and deep. He angles his hips foward, and his control is gone. He pulls out, and shoves back in in quick, wild thrusts. You cry out, hands reaching for anything to grip on to while a pre-orgasm hits you, making your walls quiver around him in strange pulses.
You reach for the edge of the table, but Azriel’s hand catches yours instead. He twines his fingers through yours, never backing down from the way you squeezed his hand tight. “As much as I want to hear you…” He mutters, then his cock is at your lips, and you suck at him greedily, moaning around his length and gripping his thigh with your free hand. Your nails bite into his skin there, but it only heightens his pleasure.
Your heels spur Rhys on, and in his fervor he knows hes losing control. He also knows that he still can’t winnow, and that he’s about to cum and lock you together with him so tightly that you wont be able to leave for a long while after this. He knows he should stop, that he should at the very least pull out to cum on you.
But all the knowledge in the world couldn’t keep him from being a worshiper to your body - to this blessed pussy and glorious mouth and- His knot locks in place, and he has only a few more shallow thrusts within the range of his motion before he’s seeing nothing, feeling nothing but the hot pressure of his release and the pussy clamping on his cock, milking the orgasm from him. The tension finally released, and the rest coming like waves off of a mountainside.
Your body convulses, hips bucking forward and writhing on Rhys’s knot the moment it settles deep inside you. He’s bowing his head, hunching forward and rocking into you as much as he can and Azriel pulls free from your mouth, his own knot getting too wide for your mouth towards the end.
Then, you feel the dribbling heat of Rhys’s cum spilling inside you, and something inside your own body responds with eager pride and takes a hold of you. Your body is twitching around him, taking his cock and squeezing it so tightly that it has your entrance stretching almost painfully. You’re building up to an immense release when Azriel’s swearing, then cumming on your neck and chest, thick streams of it landing even at your hipbone. Rhys is there quickly, lapping at the spots of it on your breast.
White molten heat explodes inside you, your orgasm pulsing through every vein, tendon - you can practically feeling it hum your very bones. You’ve been flung from a precipice you didn’t realise how hard you held on to. You were in freefall, and hitting every single cloud of mind-rocking pleasure was possible.
His member doesn’t soften, doesn’t relent during your waves of ecstasy. He fucks into you as much as he can, re gripping your hips in his hands and rolling forward, his own body shaking. His mouth goes from Azriel’s cum to your nipple, biting there, rolling the peak with his tongue. The stimulation is overwhelming, and you dig your fingers into his back.
“Fucking incredible.” one of them sighs. You can’t tell who, everything is distant and fuzzy as the waves of orgasm pummel you.
You’re exhausted by the time they recede, and by then Azriel has pulled on a pair of pants and has been petting your hair for some amount of time.
A male approaches from the crowd, holding his cock that jutted through the seam of his trousers. He’s handsome, and smiles at you hungirly. “I’ll take her next.” He says, confidence radatinging out of him.
Azriel’s eyes go wide, and he stands to face off with the male. There is clearly challenge in his poise, but the male seems to pay no mind. “Or I’ll take you. Either way-”
Azriel has a wicked shadow, curved like a knife in his hand in the next breath. “You will die b-”
Rhys groans, and pulls a blanket of darkness over the three of you, and you’re falling upon the familiar bedspread of the townhome. The smells are comforting, homey and make sleep impossible to avoid.
“Don't-” Rhys pants softly, his knot still swollen and throbbing inside of you. “Threaten someone when I can’t even get my dick free.” He lays his head on your chest, pulling Azriel down to lay with the two of you.
A warmth radiates on your lower abdomen a few minutes later. When you go to protest another round of sex, you find that it's Azriel, gently massaging the oil from the healer into your skin.
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whatev-i-guess · 19 days
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Demon!Ghost: Your soul tastes bitter. Soap: Then stop nibbling on it... Demon!Ghost: But I am hungry. And you know what they say: Beggars can't be choosers. (╹ڡ╹ )
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infernaleikon · 3 months
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Forever thinking about that one obikin commission you said on X you got from the magnificent artist skynobi. Will you ever share it with us wretched and needful fellow obikin souls?
Like a Christmas present for us poor beggars 🥺
it's so sweet that you remembered that. every few days i myself remember i have it and go stare at it for a bit. and because you asked so nicely, here it is. artist, as you said, is the wonderful @skynobi
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whitedarkmoonflower · 2 months
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You are good
Pairing: Sihtric x reader (female)
Authors note: I refuse all responsibility for this and blame @foxyanon and this post for planting this idea into my head. I think you will recognise your quotes. 😅
Warnings: SMUT 18+
Word Count: 3,3 K
Tags: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @hb8301 @zillahvathek @alexagirlie @gemini-mama @verenahx @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @willowbrookesblog @thenameswinter99 @ellabellabus07 @mcbuckyyyy @kirtseinw
If you want to be added to or removed from the tag list - write to me.
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Uhtred's tail, you had silently dubbed him. "Yes, lord" and "No, lord" were nearly the only phrases to escape his lips. Most of the time, he seemed to vanish, only to reappear as if conjured by a magic wand at the mere sound of his name, his head tucked into his shoulders, hunched forward, eyes fixed on the ground, avoiding any direct gaze. Horses need to be readied – Sihtric will do that. Not enough wood for the fire – he’s already gone searching. Pretty face and large, alerted eyes. Suspicious eyes.
You didn’t trust him. Uhtred apparently did, but your brother had always had a far too big and soft heart, he tried to hide behind his loud talk about destiny and honour. So, you kept a watchful eye on Sihtric.
You saw him conversing with the horses in hushed, gentle tones, telling them about his day, treating them as if they were his best friends, meticulously brushing their backs. You witnessed him sitting in the darkness, far from the reach of the fire's flickering light, leaning against a tree or a cart, his form curled up, arms wrapped around his legs, chin resting on his knees. He would startle at the sound of raucous, drunken laughter piercing the air. You noticed him shudder when his name was called,  jumping to his feet as if he'd been bitten by a venomous snake, and wince when someone unexpectedly placed a hand on his shoulder.
But you saw other things as well. You observed him reach into his saddlebag, generously distributing all his provisions to the beggars who sat at the city gates as you entered Winchester. You saw him remove the silver ring recently bestowed upon him by Uhtred, gifting it to a small, emaciated boy whom he had caught attempting to steal his pouch just moments earlier. You even saw him step in and kick out a drunkard from the alehouse, who was about to take a swing at the serving girl.
"Here, have a drink," you offered him a mug, settling down beside him. He flinched and looked up at you in surprise. A hesitant smile graced Sihtric's lips as he accepted the drink from you, his eyes filled with warmth and gratitude. That's how it all began – your quiet chats away from the noisy laughter and banter by the fireplaces. You were just plain curious and cautious, or so you kept telling yourself. You wanted to learn more about the reserved and timid warrior in your brother’s service. And with each moment, each story he shared as he gradually opened up to you, revealing bits and pieces from his life, your fascination with him never wavered.
Your own path hadn't been a walk in the park either. You'd lost everything except your brother. You both survived that Danish assault, but life played a cruel trick on you, and you didn't luck out like Uhtred who found a new family. Fate turned you into a warrior, fueled by anger, rage, and an unquenchable thirst for revenge. Sometimes, it felt like your heart stopped beating the day the Danes yanked you from your old life, leaving you with an empty, pitch-black hole in your chest. It changed when you reunited with Uhtred. It was like you finally fit into this world again, and your brother's love warmed your heart. Yet, in the quiet of the night, when you were alone with your thoughts, that dark hole in your chest still haunted you, making you wonder if you were really alive.
And now, you'd crossed paths with someone whose journey had been even more rocky as yours, whose soul seemed like an open, bleeding wound. But within him, there still was a warmth that felt like it could rekindle the spark of life within your own heart too.
—----------------------------------------------------
"What a pretty thing!" the guard sneered, his fingers digging into the flesh of your cheeks as he pulled you closer, his foul breath assaulting your senses. It had been your fault; your recklessness had landed both you and Sihtric in this grimy dungeon. But not a single word of reproach had escaped Sihtric's lips. You had a sense that rescue might be on the horizon, as the boy who had been with you had escaped and was likely delivering the news to Uhtred. However, for the moment, you were stuck here.
"Don't touch her!" Sihtric hissed, his voice quivering with anger as he swatted the guard's hand away from you.
"What the hell! Hold that rat for me," the guard grumbled, turning his attention away from you, while the other two forcibly twisted Sihtric's arms behind his back. You winced as the first blow landed on Sihtric's face, jerking his head to the side, followed by another and another. Not a sound escaped his lips as he stared back at the guard, his eyes burning with pure hatred.
Another punch, this time aimed at Sihtric's abdomen, caused him to double over with a grunt, gasping for air. The guards released him, and Sihtric's knees and hands crumpled to the ground. A heavy leather boot struck his stomach, sending him sprawling. Arms defensively wrapped around his head, Sihtric writhed on the floor, convulsing under the brutal onslaught that was shattering his body.
"I hope this serves as a valuable lesson, you filthy heathen. Next time, think before you open your mouth," one of the guards spat, then turned to leave, motioning for the others to follow suit.
"What was that? Are you out of your mind?" you whispered sharply to Sihtric, rushing to his side and kneeling beside him to assess the damage. His nose was bleeding, and his lip and eyebrow were cut. Gently, you placed his arm around your shoulders, wrapping your arm around his waist as you helped him back on his feet and guided him towards a heap of straw in the corner of the cell. He sank heavily onto it, leaning his back and head against the wall.
"At least they got distracted," he shuddered, shoulders quivering, spitting blood and wiping his chin with his sleeve.
"That was incredibly foolish of you. It seems you don't have any broken ribs, but it could have turned out much worse," you tore the lower edge of your tunic and reached out to clean the blood from Sihtric's face with the makeshift rag.
"It's not too high a price to pay if it keeps their attention off you," Sihtric replied, raising his eyes, and for perhaps the first time, your gazes consciously met. "Besides, I'm used to it," he added, a sad smile playing on his lips.
"I can handle myself," you hissed, but your eyes were brimming with gratitude, while Sihtric merely shrugged his shoulders, wincing when your fingers touched his split lip.
—---------------------------------------
Your blood ran hot, adrenaline surging through your veins, a loud thump of your heart in your ears. Your senses sharpened to an almost painful degree as it seemed you could hear the trampled grass beneath your feet crying out. Your fingers clenched tightly around the shaft of your axe, tracing every line and wrinkle carved into the wood, as you melded seamlessly with your weapon, becoming an extension of your arm. There was no escape from the thick, intoxicating scent of blood that hung in the air, clinging to your clothes, seeping through your skin, intensifying the thrill. You sank to your knees, using the shaft of your axe for support, the taste of iron and ashes lingering in your mouth.
"Are you injured?" you flinched at the touch on your shoulder, raising your head only to see Sihtric quickly retract his hand.
Today was the first time you had witnessed him in battle, his eyes ablaze with excitement, his body a coiled spring of taut muscles, moving with purpose and precision. He resembled a young wolf on the hunt, thrilled by his own strength and agility, seamlessly blending with the chaos around him.
A brief, lingering gaze at the young Dane fighting alongside you had cost you dearly. A sudden swing of an axe caught you off guard, your step back too hurried and unsteady, causing you to lose your balance and tumble, releasing your own weapon. The stench of death filled your nostrils, the axe poised in the air, ready to strike, etching itself into your senses as you desperately fumbled to find something to counter the blow.
Too late, a single thought pierced your mind as you watched the blade descend, moving so agonisingly slow that it felt as if time itself had altered its pace just to mock you. A clank of metal and a scorching splatter of blood across your face brought the world back to its normal tempo, as the lifeless body of a red-faced Dane thudded to the ground beside you. A hand reached out, and you grasped it, allowing it to yank you back onto your feet. You met the piercing gaze of two mismatched eyes, filled with anxiety and something more, something profound and indescribable, yet so intense that it sent shivers down your spine. There was no time for words as you both were drawn back into the intricate dance of life and death surrounding you.
"I'm fine," you growled, breathing heavily, your body trembling as you pushed yourself upright with the aid of the axe's shaft. A deep ache surged through your tired muscles. You seized Sihtric's hand, which hung hesitantly in the air, and pulled him along with you, striding towards the trees at the edge of the clearing. He followed, eyes wide with surprise but offering no resistance.
You plunged into the forest, not stopping until the battlefield's clearing had long vanished from view, leaving behind all its chaotic sounds. Silence, you needed silence—to quiet your racing mind. 
A startled crow fluttered away, its caw echoing through the trees and your ears. Coming to a halt, you turned to face the utterly bewildered gaze of Sihtric. Pushing him against the nearest tree trunk, your fingers frantically fumbled with the laces of his breeches.
"What... what are you doing?" he gasped, as your hand slipped inside his pants.
"Feeling alive," you whispered, a mischievous smile appearing on your lips as you felt his cock hardening under your touch. 
You had grown tired of those lingering glances and deep sighs, of him becoming more like your shadow than even Uhtred's. You had had enough of his trembling fingers and flushed cheeks, his hand brushing against yours when you passed him an ale mug, and the way he held his breath when you sat beside him, your thighs touching. 
You wanted him, and you were aware that he craved for you just as intensely. You could feel his blood running hot at this very moment, just as yours did. You had seen it in his eyes, in that brief, fleeting moment after he helped you back to your feet, and you didn't want to wait any longer. You knew him too well by now to realise he wouldn't make the first move, so you had to be the one.
"I... I can't... we can't... Oh, damn it...," Sihtric stammered, a loud, almost desperate moan escaping his lips as you pulled down his breeches, freeing his already fully hard cock,  wrapping your hand around it and giving it a few slow, teasing strokes. 
“Don’t tell me you haven’t been dreaming about this. I’m not blind. I can see how you look at me,” you purred, biting your lower lip, while your hand kept moving. 
"I... Oh gods, fuck... You're Uhtred's sister, and I... I... He'll kill me if..." The words caught in Sihtric's throat, his breathing quickening and growing more erratic, his hands balling into fists as your fingers moved to the tip of his pulsing shaft, collecting the precum and spreading it along its length.
“You just saved my life,” you murmured, going down on your knees before him and licking your lips at the sight of Sihtric’s long and thick, perfectly formed cock, tip slightly red and dripping, “and I haven’t even thanked you for stepping in that time in the dungeon.” 
Feeling Sihtric's entire body tense, you glanced up at him from beneath your lashes, savouring the sight of him. Head thrown back, eyes closed, breathing shallow and ragged, he leaned heavily against the tree, his arms hanging somewhat awkwardly by his sides. You were surprised that he still hadn't made a move to touch you.
"This isn't your first time, is it?" you suddenly inquired, raising an eyebrow. You smiled as Sihtric vigorously shook his head. "Good. Then you know what to expect, don't you? You know how good it feels," you teased him, pressing your mouth to his upper thigh, trailing a path with your tongue and placing soft, wet kisses on his naked skin. Sihtric exhaled sharply, but didn’t answer.
“Talk to me,” you ordered, giving a teasing, quick lick to the tip of his cock.
“Aaahhh, y-yes,” Sihtric whimpered, gasping for air, pressing both his palms against the tree.
“But you said, we couldn't do this. Have you changed your mind?” you asked, your tone taunting. “Tell me, do you want me to take you in my mouth? Do you want to feel my lips around you?” you circled his tip with your tongue, your hand jerking him, so teasingly slowly. You could tell you were driving him mad by the way, his breathing was picking up with each gentle lap of your wet and hot tongue and each movement of your hand.
You were aware that you were a brat, torturing him, testing his self-control, but you wanted to know how long he could hold back.You had seen his eyes glint with passion and fervour on the battlefield and you wanted to see them glint the same now. You wanted him to lose his composure and fully surrender to the pleasure you were eager to offer. 
"I don't hear you," you pulled back and released your hold on him, causing Sihtric to whine in frustration. 
“Yes, yes… fuck, by the gods… I… I want it … I want you…,” he breathed, a mortified look on his pretty face, his cheeks crimson, “I have wanted you since the first moment I saw you. You are so beautiful and so … so strong, but … fuck, ahhh, please, please touch me,” he whined. 
“Ask me nicely,” you purred, moving your mouth back closer to his throbbing cock.
“Please, just touch me again. Please, I need you …,” Sihtric begged, his voice shaky, a slight desperation creeping in it. He was finally looking down at you as he reached out, cupping your chin with his rough tattooed fingers, his thumb gliding over your lips, eyes darkening with lust and longing. 
You kept your gaze locked with him as you bit your bottom lip and wrapped your fingers around his  length again.
“Good, you are such a good boy. Just relax and enjoy. Can you do that for me, handsome? I want you to feel good,” you purred, a satisfied smile on your lips as you heard Sihtric gasp and whimper at your touch.
Sihtric moaned loudly as your lips closed around the tip of his cock, your tongue lapping at it teasingly, and then you moved up taking him in your mouth almost completely. You sucked gently at first, then harder, relishing the soft whines and moans rolling over Sihtric’s lips as your head started to move up and down his length, your palm firmly around the base, stroking the part that didn’t fit in. 
Sihtric’s hands were in your hair, not pulling or tugging, just holding on to you, gently and carefully, his trembling fingers caressing you, brushing your hair out of your face. He looked so sweet trying to keep his eyes on you, trying to keep still. You moaned, feeling his grip in your hair tensing, as you fastened your movements, wrapping your lips even tighter around his cock, watching him lose his uneven struggle. It didn’t take long for him to become a whimpering, moaning mess, his hips thrusting forward, eyes half lid, breath heavy and panting as he finally lost himself in the pleasure your mouth was giving him.
“It feels so good…,” he moaned, as his hips started to move faster, fucking your mouth harder and deeper, his eyes rolling in the back of his head as he chased his release, the grip of his fingers in your hair tightening, “I’m close… aaahhh, I can’t take it much longer! Slow down… stop … please, let me … ” he whined through his panting breath, looking down at you questioningly, but you kept sucking him like your life would depend on it, tears bursting into the corners of your eyes, moaning lewdly your mouth stuffed with his cock as your core throbbed in burning need for him. 
You loved the desperate, wanton sounds rolling over his lips, the sight of him falling apart, all shaky and whiny, his limbs starting to tremble, because you made him feel so good, because you had this power over him. You and only you!  You didn’t let go of him, didn’t allow him to pull out and after a few more sloppy thrusts, his cock twitched in your mouth, his head snapped back and with a loud moan Sihtric was spilling down your throat, cursing under his breath.
“Oh gods… fuck…,”  Sihtric looked down at you, breathing heavily and slumping his back against the tree. You let him come down from his high, sucking gently and letting your tongue slide over his sensitive tip, making him moan and twitch a few more times. 
Breath panting, Sihtric reached out to you, pulling you off your knees into his embrace as he buried his nose in the crook of your neck, his fingers gently brushing through your hair.
"I...," he began.
"Shh, don't speak," you interrupted him, leaning into his embrace and listening to his racing heartbeat beneath your ear. "Can you hear it?" you asked, placing your hand on his chest. "It's beating; you are alive. Isn't it wonderful to be alive?"
A deep sigh escaped Sihtric as he continued to hold you to his chest, his body quivering slightly. "Why are you so good to me?" he finally asked, cupping your face with his hands and lifting it to meet his questioning gaze.
"Because you are good, Sihtric," you whispered. "I have seen the goodness in you, I have felt it, and I want to be a part of it. I want to be yours."
"You want to be mine?" The surprise in Sihtric's voice was evident, his large, beautiful eyes reflecting the disbelief that his tone betrayed. He couldn't bring himself to believe it. After a lifetime of being resented and despised for who he was, he simply couldn't accept what you were saying.
"Yes, I do. Do you want to be mine?" you asked, taken aback by the quiver in your own voice. The silence lingered in the air as you awaited his response. You had finally found him, a man you were certain you wanted in your life not just for fleeting moments of pleasure but for a lifetime. Someone you had come to admire and wished to care for, someone from whom you wanted to receive care. His kindness and inner strength had captured your heart in an unexpected way. You felt certain that in Sihtric you had found a man who possessed the strength and warmth to fill that dark void in your chest.
"I'm already yours," Sihtric murmured, "I'm yours. I've always been yours," he repeated more resolutely, leaning in to capture your lips in the gentlest and most tender of kisses. Without breaking the kiss, Sihtric spun you around, pressing your body against the tree, and a soft gasp escaped your lips as you felt his already firm arousal pressing against your thigh.
"If you are mine, then I'm allowed to make you feel good too," he purred. "Will you be a good girl for me?" he asked, his bashful smile turning into a mischievous gleam in his eyes as he went down on his knees before you.
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