( theo james, bisexual, cismale he/him, support ) ÂŤââŚââ well met, STEPHANOS GARDYNE! the divine born child of HECATE. your name sings in our ears! itâs been 42 years and now they have answered the song in their veins. before they answered the song, they were a CORRECTIONAL COOK and were living in MAINE, UNITED STATES. history and myth will remember them for their NURTURING NATURE, DISCERNMENT, and CONTENTMENT but will also magnify their INVESTMENT IN OTHERS, OFT-MISPLACED HOPE, and NOSINESS if it causes them to falter. now it is time for the world to sing their name with them.
stephanos gardyne, 42.
correctional facility cook for 22 years, 14 years as lead.
born to elyas and lynn gardyne. and, apparently, hecate.
father of theadora, cassie, and giannis polous-gardyne, with rita polous.
scorpio sun, scorpio moon, and mercury, and venus, and jupiter... and virgo rising.
not that he has any idea what that means, aside from the occasional joke about frogs and rivers.
(it's just in his nature.)
male-leaning bisexual.
less dominant, more submission-averse.
pancakes cook on both sides - but sometimes, you can just cook one side really hard.
been a dad for half his life, looking forward to whatever comes next.
his best friend and the mother of his children--
(more like he's the father of her children--)
waved him out the door as he took the first steps to this next adventure.
he hopes he packed enough collared shirts.
he has his latest vision prescription saved, and some spare contacts.
his physical and std tests are up to date.
he was early in line for his real id.
ducks in a row | dad friend | southern gothic | father with a figure | wear it out | hearts through stomachs | it's always the mild-mannered ones | one for all | glasses-pushing schemer | who needs privacy | once son, then father, now sage | walk backwards into the abyss | fear is the mindkiller
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
passing by the library, stephanos often finds one person researching or another. he's there for recipes, or magic, or myths; selfish interests, often enough. he's spent a fair amount of time chasing trails early in his tenure, but he was quick to discover that faster rabbits more often caught the threads. the fates had dealt more interesting or more dangerous tapestries to those with more life ahead of them than behind. so, he's become more accustomed to letting the others race ahead. joining when he has time or the mind, when someone remembers to inform or ask. it's another quiet life he's found for himself; as quiet as either of his partners or his dog would leave it.
having caught someone with a question, as usual, he helped where he could; for one reason or another, likely the noted curse coming into effect, they'd found some information -- but not enough. wanting to give the man space to process, he stepped away, continuing after finding what his own purpose for arriving was. apparently, shortly after, a more important discovery was made-- one important, vital. lauded, even. just a few seeming moments after he'd departed.
and, again, the fates had decided. those whose hands upon the world would turn, and those who were meant to watch. comfortably, perhaps, from a balcony not too far away. with a full home and a full heart. more than one could have ever asked for, truly.
if they need him, or until they need him, he'll be there.
he has the spare baskets and a countertop covered in desserts to prove it.
the first stone was somewhere between a mishap and a happy accident.
when his partners returned from their shopping trip, arms laden with new gadgets and gizmos, one specific object went to him. an odd little iron fish. stephanos thought little of it, at first. it went in the pot when boiling or braising, when making soup or broth or anything that'd involve an amount of liquid. iron was an important part of anyone's diet.
them, especially, since they were always bleeding in some way or another.
the stone traveled in his bag of holding, packed with his cooking equipment, suffused and infused with both flavor and power. especially once he started weaving magic into his dishes. whenever he'd pull his pots or pans or bowls out, it'd be there. he wasn't certain of its magical properties until he found himself reaching for it before a fight. since then, the fish had seen numerous combats first-hand, a single iron eye facing the world.
when it came time to restore someone's memories, to resist the effects of another titan's ire, stephanos didn't have to think twice before tapping on all that stored power. that love for his partners, that care for the others he's cooked for. resistance and appreciation abound. while he didn't normally have the strength to crush iron in his bare hand, it was the power suffusing the stone that did the work. crumbling it to iron dust, blowing away, its investiture spent towards what he believed was a worthy cause.
the next day, reviewing some of the information he'd obtained from a handsome chef of a vampire, stephanos began the process of creation himself. only, it wasn't just creating another iron fish-- it was a becoming. embracing his capability as as a spellcaster, a cultist of food and cosmic fright, a son of the goddess of magic herself. numerous threads weaving together to form his tapestry.
he woke early, likely disturbing at least one denizen of the cabin. trailed down the stairs by perked ears and a happy gait, stephanos spared the occasional scritch for one bones as he set his grimoire out of splash range. this was going to take a serious amount of cooking, and a serious amount of magic. that his men would be able to enjoy what came of it, as well as packing away for the rest of the week, was mostly a bonus.
to begin, he took an iron lump. the shape would come with time. first, it was boiled, enchanted. then again. then again. the spell constricting the metal to condense, and condense, heating and wrapping around it, contorting it into shape. not forging it, no; he wasn't changing the structure of the iron he wasn't hardening or purifying. only condensing. whatever was in the iron, impurities and all, would stay there. definitive, defining. this wasn't to create a more perfect stone. this was to let this stone become something powerful, something indicative.
six or so rounds in on the shaping, he was joined by one of his lovers. starting another pan for breakfast was nothing for the volume cook, splitting his attention between a dish, a spell, and a man. that only became harder to deal with when said man started pushing in, leaving the mage panting with spread hands on the counter, while he was spread. rising onto the balls of his feet, knees shaking, until the first spend. then the second. after the third, he begged a brief recess, and made to continue the work he'd only been half-managing since being joined. said break lasted just long enough to progress to the next part of the process -- sincere use. he'd dropped the newly shaped fish into a stock to boil when his shorts were tugged down once more, someone rather eager to get a taste of what they'd left behind. jostled much less by the action, his toes were still curling as he cooked two meals at once, bare-assed and sighing. only to grip the hanging pot rack over the stove as he was once again mounted and bred, once, twice. there was a brief concern when some of his own excitement landed in the stew pot, but. thinking about it, that just made sense. love was its own form of magic.
beef and pork stew, ladled and refrigerated. chowder, ladled and refrigerated. simple syrup for cocktails or lemonades, jarred and refrigerated. dish after dish, component after component, stephanos cooked and casted each time, fortifying each meal with both vital nutrients and powerful magic. filling the fridge with more meal prep than leftovers, to be eaten as desired. especially since he was interrupted fairly regularly, for kissing or fondling or being bent over the kitchen island. the process did take around eight hours, just like the gourmand had mentioned. in a victorious post-transmutation romp, stephanos considered as he was bounced;
did the gourmand's documentation account for numerous amorous interruptions? or was that simply part of the process?
with darkened cheeks and glasses askew, stephanos leaned in for another kiss, believing himself and the gourmand were more alike than he'd originally thought.
surrounded by women (who loved him! mostly!), giannis sought most of his identity directly from the source. determined to reflect his father in as many aspects as he could, giannis didn't take as much time to discover himself, as he took to discover what he could of the man that helped raise him.
severely likely to seek involvement in mystical matters, only if he discovers how deeply involved his father is.
living apart from his role model, giannis is on the hunt for a new identity. the journey to discover himself leads him in too many different directions, too many capacities untested.
his arrival at camp for the holiday may lead to him 'borrowing' the stylings or mannerisms of one or a few demigods. be warned.
serious and sarcastic, cassie has her mother's delivery and her father's intuition. the middle child, she kept herself from being ignored often with bold proclamations that often were true or correct in some regard. often, however, they were things that were consider impolite to say aloud.
moderately likely to seek involvement in mystical matters; more likely to be caught up in it by seeing something she cannot deny, and being unable to lie to herself about it enough to ignore it or pass it off.
core driving emotion: spite. she keeps grudges cool and well-guarded, preserved for years. honesty is a blunt instrument.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
wild-haired, wide-eyed. the eldest sister. esoteric curiosity and precision to find the answers she seeks.
highly likely to seek involvement in magical or mystical things, if not just to settle the mind's hunger for details that'd elude her otherwise.
has her mother's eyes (cold and commanding) and her father's hair (naturally buoyant, fluffed) but treats her eyes like her father's (warm stares turned cold) and her hair like her mother's (letting it grow, which leaves it wide and wild).
core driving emotion: somewhere between curiosity and FOMO.
this would be the second time stephanos would make such an attempt.
the first was greeting his own mother; a figure either chosen by cult or granted by fate, but one he'd made his attempt to accept all the same. the hecate he'd met seemed pleased with his offering, and just as pleased to consume it; was she pleased when she accepted the offering of a life? an exchange made to save others, to prevent the deaths of thousands, at the cost of two?
one, who broke guard and weakened -- so the other could be killed.
stephanos didn't have words for hecate, at the moment. she could reach him had she any for him, and he wasn't planning to make an offering of his own life any time soon. perhaps that was cold, but that was the nature he found when he looked her way. the calculation and craft of magic. the binding of oaths. the nature of transition from one realm to the next.
no, this meal was for a different guest. one similarly, but likely not equally, revered.
the dining room table was adorned in oak leaves and shed horns. the glory of bulls, the proof of trees tall and old. into cups, rich red wine was poured. something on the stronger side, sweet and dry, strong enough to almost assault the senses. and then, for the meal.
first course; steak tartare, seasoned and molded into the shape of a cows' head. blended with onions and capers, worked with duck yolks for richness. brined capers and cornichons for acidity, and chives for color.
second course; a simple soup of chicken broth made with collected (and filtered) rainwater, rice, and lemon. warm and welcoming, like the gentle act of hospitality itself.
third course; grilled branzino stuffed with orzo and feta cheese. served whole, the split belly bursting with filling. finished with grilled citrus slices decorating the top of the still-scaled fish.
fourth course; pork braised in honey and oranges, cooked low and slow over the previous day. a bridge of sweet and savory, showing both effort and care in its intent and effect.
final course; fresh coffee and honey cakes. a modern take on a very classic recipe, stephanos felt a little silly shaping them into pigs and goats, but that was what history seemed to state. if it was an offense, then he could only beg forgiveness, if not understanding.
"while this may not be the most impressive offering you've ever received," stephanos begun, addressing the air where he'd hoped zeus, king of gods, might appear. "I do hope it appears heart-felt. your sons have a history of being heroes, figures of story and song." he placed his hand over his own heart. "your son has been a part of my story, here, almost from the moment I've arrived."
their meeting was rather...sudden, and intense, and unexpected. the very things he'd shown mild surprise at from the others, connections made so swiftly, without even realizing he'd made some of his own just as fast.
"there aren't many things I could ask of you. even this moment here might be too much. but men in love are fools, and I can prove no exception." three children, he's had, and yet this is the first conversation he's ever had of this kind. it's jarring, for the man so put-together to suddenly feel so off his footing. "I love your son. I've come to care for him, I've seen terrible things happen to him. I've seen him put everything on the line to protect not just myself, or our other partner-- but the others here. strangers. regular people out in the world, wholly unprepared for the things that we face. adam might not have authors detailing his every action, but I do see your son as a hero in our time. whether he acts as one now, or will become one in the future." stephanos stood firm, or at least attempted to, without appearing defiant before any presence that might join him.
"your son has the strength to fight the very nature of the world, and-- I do think, the gall to try." adjusting his glasses was mostly to give himself, and the words, a bit of pause. "I would ask you, his father, for the permission to take his hand. the hero and the man, both. I'd ask you for any blessing you might grant, that I could be at his side when the world grows too heavy. when the impressions others try to put upon him grow too large, too far from his shape. that I might be at his back when he proves to us all who he truly wants to become."
all that being said, it was likely time to eat-- whether stephanos had a guest, or was seated alone.
Those words had been the simple plea that Victor had given the son of Hecate as they ventured to the candles, wanting to light one in honor of the fallen demigod that the two of them had been close to. While he knew he could do this alone, he did want to reach out because he could only imagine what Stephanos might've been going through. Because while Victor may have felt himself close to Elian, Stephanos was his brother.
Moving to lean down next to the vigil, Victor closed his eyes and thought a few words in honor of the demigod before he took a deep breath. "Thank you," Victor stated, shifting his attention to Stephanos with a light, sad smile pulling at his lips. "I know you probably have more... important things to be doing than humoring me with my request."
whatever reservations victor might've had around stephanos about elian, stephanos didn't maintain whatsoever. any others' grief was just as much as, or perhaps worth more than, his own. people who understood elian. who spent time with him, who he wanted to spend time with in turn. people who chose elian. those were the ones stephanos wanted to support.
"for now, there's nothing more important for me to do than this." if the man was still low, he'd start to hover a hand near victor's shoulder-- pausing, should there be any hesitation. "could I ask, what makes you feel your grief is unimportant?"
The sudden shift in position sent a fresh wave of sensation through Adam. His fingers scrambled for purchase, gripping Stephanosâs shoulders as he was lifted, his body slack and pliant, completely at his loverâs mercy as the son of Hecate paraded him through the cabin: knot stuffed in a leaking gape, with resurging vitality, Adamâs hand snaked toward his waist as his idle thoughts wandered toward what any peeping through the windows - or waltzing into the cabin - would see firsthand. Then there he was, hard again: woe was he.
âFuck -Anyone walks in on this -â His voice was a wrecked, breathless laugh, his head falling back against Stephanosâs chest as he was carried. The position left him so fucking exposed, he could feel it - the way his insides shifted with every step, the way cum dripped from him, thick and warm, trickling down his thighs. His stomach cramped again, the pressure almost unbearable, but - admittedly - Adam loved it. Feeling used, owned, and even ruined only felt acceptable considering the cock that dealt the proverbial hand.Â
Risky. That was something to add, or maybe, something he shouldâve figured out sooner. The bathhouse, the lake, the forest, making out in the amphitheatre; Adam had been locking Stephanos to the interior of the cabin for too long; dadâs back hit the bed, and Adam sunk onto his waist, knot pushing deeper as a soft whimper escaped the otherwise violent fighter. They both had their appetites, that Stephanos matched his own - maybe even exceeded - made them occasionally unproductive.Â
Because as Adam sank into a reverse riding position - peeling his sweaty tank top off and discarding it - it could be this all night. Back flexing as Adam braced his hands on Stephanosâs legs, dragging his body up and half-tugging the knot before pushing his hips back down. A salacious, shit-eating grin turned over Adamâs shoulder as he looked down at the older man - moving his waist up, then back down again. âIf you pass out first Iâm gonna fuck you back awake.â A promise.Â
so heavy was adam's cock that stephanos could feel when he filled, hard and hardened, swinging with each step. the way it'd shift the gravity of him just slightly, stephanos pulling him tighter against himself to compensate. that didn't compare to the flexing, the wrenching and cramping of adam's guts around him, straining to deal with his rooted cock or his hefty load (or loads, from the feel of them). he made a good show of it, keeping somewhat contained and controlled while strolling his lover through their home, impaled and leaking in a thin stream, globs occasionally running down balls or thighs to hit the floor.
"like that, do you?" he liked to believe himself attentive, feeling the way adam reacted inside and out to the thought of being seen. being ruined, being bred and claimed, being caught in such a vulnerable state. letting everyone know that he didn't just let someone inside him-- he let them change him. he'd let them ruin him. he'd let them leave a mark that likely wasn't going away any time soon.
and when adam braced himself after stephanos laid back, the ring-enchanted wolf of a man wasn't entirely sure what was about to happen. but adam was always full of surprises. his chest heaved hard, air sucking in as adam managed to release a bit; the knobs of stephanos' transformed cock slightly revealed, plugging up adam even more thickly, before he'd slide back down and reclaim them. with wide eyes and dropped jaw, stephanos looked to adam as adam looked back. he attempted a smile, but it fell into a long, low moan; the one who ruined, being the one pushed past the edge. arching off the bed, his thickened hands went to adam's waist not to stop him, but to steady himself. to feel the rhythm of his body beyond the way that was making him cum, and cum, and cum; "please," stephanos grunted, heels planting on the sheets. "I'd ask for nothing less." sputtering a bit, as adam did the impossible. fucking himself on something that shouldn't be inside adam's body, something he shouldn't be able to take, but he could, and he did.
there was no effort to fix stephanos' glasses when they went askew, as he couldn't spare his hands. he was barely even seeing much at all, near-blinded by pleasure, by the extension of an impossible climax, by adam taking the insurmountable and riding it all the way down to the fucking base.
if adam kept it up, passing out was well and truly in the cards. but stephanos at least lasted a good twenty minutes, a bronco bucking, buried deep and hard, gumming up adam's works with everything he could give.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
His breath hitched a beat as strong, steady hands found the crown of Adamâs cock and the rest of his body responded appropriately as the bulk of his focus went straight to his waist. With his attention came a rush of blood, a thicker head now pushing toward the touch. âJust thinking.â He took the father in, open shirt, knit shorts, it was a miracle that Stephanos wasnât bent over the arm of the couch already. âDangerous shit, I know.â Chances were that Prospero was out among the trees or the damned, somewhere engrossed by the night - or perhaps hanging suspended like a bat in their closet. Could never quite tell with him; Prospero didnât need the help, but the mystery made him even fucking hotter.Â
Adam gave himself a bit of a tug for good measure, hand sliding across hand, âBut I always feel better after I bust a few.â Twitching violence amid blissful dreams of endless fighting inclusive. Adamâs throat dried a bit, swallowing through a breath heâd suddenly been desperate for, âWhatâs the book about?âÂ
his boy was certainly eager, and often or always willing. much like himself. just another thing about adam for him to love. as some today would put it, they might 'match each other's freak' somewhat. what started as casual, idle affection, was made more firm by adam's hand, and stephanos was pleased enough to follow his cue. stroking the man slowly, but deliberately. pace glacial, unchanging, without any adjustment or inflection in his voice as he continued on.
"a few," he repeated, grinning. "I do like making a mess of you." gaze soft, as it landed on adam, briefly. then back to the pages. "studies on fatherhood; what may happen when a father is too present, or not present at all. too pressuring, too relaxed. how it might appear later in life. how the hand may shape a person for their entire lives." another glance at adam, this time apologetic. "not something fun, I know." he gave adam a brief squeeze, pleading forgiveness, then returned to rhythm. "what were you hoping for? we've plenty of books. I'm happy to swap it out."
His body still clenched around the knot buried inside of him as he tried, in vain, to accommodate that overwhelming sensations - his stomach heavy, distended, full - and the squish that came from Stephanosâs continued movements only made Adamâs cock twitch weakly again. A wrecked, breathless laugh passed from Adamâs lips as his body still trembled from the aftershocks of being ruined so thoroughly. âTechnically impossible my fucking ass-â he managed, his words slurring together as his foggy mind, still addled with pleasure, tried to coordinate itself around the haze of his destruction. Fucked stupid, as if Adam could afford it.Â
It was easy to let his head fall back, it wasnât in his bodyâs nature to surrender but nurture had coaxed that inherent aversion of being slack and pliant under someoneâs control. Safe in the arms of the father, as it were; the effect just as lasting and as equally filling as every other part of the older man. It was gradual, but some of Adamâs senses were coming back to him, enough to be mindful of how spent he was, how full he was, and how locked Stephanos was inside of him. He could feel his body pulled back every time the other moved his hips, and Adam pushed back - milking the other for every drop he had. Â
Adam didnât want to move, but he was already half laying on Stephanos - the gelatin strength of his relaxed muscles willfully failing him at the moment. His lips curled into a lazy, sated grin, his eyes half-lidded as he turned his head to press a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss to Stephanosâs mouth. âI was way⌠way⌠way the fuck more into that than I thought Iâd be. Take me to bed,â so he could bounce on that knot until Stephanos started howling at the moon.
if stephanos didn't know any better, from the way adam was moving on him, around him-- wet squelches and soft grunts, rippling pleasure each time adam clenched or clamped, stephanos would have to believe that adam was very, very much enjoying what he was doing to him, under the influence of the ring.
"fucking your ass is certainly what I've been doing." offered with a smile, before he'd press hard against those cheeks, again. "fucking more than that, from what I can feel, and hear. fucking your insides." things that felt filthy to say, but only the more right to come from his usually more proper mouth. adam and prospero both were the closest to knowing the depths of his depravity. "fucking your stomach," as he sank fingers into skin left soft.
with whatever strength divinity and brief enchantment would give him, stephanos would crouch -- bringing adam's hips back with him, almost like a squat -- and get his hands under adam's knees. lifting as he'd straighten, growling low in his throat as the tug on his widened base would make him squirt more into his lover. then settling back, standing upright, adam fucked open on his knotted cock and exposed, knees in the air.
"just so I can carry you there," muttered behind adam's head, with a teasing smile. "not at all so you can imagine anyone you'd want to, finding you like this. stuck on me." each step made with care, deliberate and cautious, bringing his lover to bed as he'd asked. whatever he'd damn himself to by laying back, letting adam seat himself on his hips, stephanos would joyously accept.
@miindkiiller
location: The Cabin
notes: october event
It wasn't hard to get his partnersâ attention, most often Adam demanded it; he had a habit of filling a room. Snacking, watching one of his partners from the kitchen - relaxed, brow drawn as he appeared engrossed in what he was reading. They could see how long that would last. Adam flopped onto the couch, body half strewn across the son of the crossroads as he propped his cheek up on his fist. âI know itâs late, but uh-â Adam reached for his crotch and adjusted himself over the thin fabric of his athletic shorts. Free balling it as per usual, the crown of his cock less than an inch from poking through the hem of one leg; thick line of his bulge outlining the rest. âCan I sit with you?â
"always." stephanos would never turn adam away, whether by choice or inability to deter his eager lover's affections. the father himself was at rest, button-down left open and knit shorts leaving little to the imagination. the picture of comfort. but not as comfortable as adam, it seemed; that last inch was an easy claim, one hand moving over to lift that remaining bit of cloth out of the way. just tracing around the shape of the crown with an idle finger, beyond casual. "what's keeping you up? you're normally asleep by now." brows higher, "need me to come to bed with you?" grin wider, "do we need to find perry?"
"I dunno about that... In the grand scheme it seems dumb." he said softly as he stepped forward, blinking hard to stop himself from losing his composure and being overly emotional with a stranger. Kicking himself for not being more friendly before now. Opening himself up more to meet the rest of the demigod host that lived at the camp. They were all related one way or another, it was like the seven degrees of gods.
"I um. Can you show you something? It's. I made it. Well I didn't make it I drew it. It-" he sighed and took a deep breathe. "Sorry. It's my favorite book and I illustrated all the drawings in it myself and I had wanted to show Elian and now I can't ever show him and I wondered if maybe you wanted....to see it." he said softly the words dying out as they left his mouth because to him the request really was so selfish and silly. "The last thing I ever texted him was how I wanted to see him blow someone up...and that feels like a waste of a text now."
perhaps, he might appear too unaffected for some, to anger or disappoint them further-- but that wasn't his intention, and he couldn't let the fear of misunderstanding sway his course. stephanos had buried his father, at the hands of the same cult that seemed to be working against them and with the titans. now, he had witnessed a half-brother crossing the veil, through vision and power.
if he wasn't crumbling, then it was his duty to stand sturdy for others. as it always has been, as it always would be.
"you can." words gentle, not trying to coddle lucian, but keeping aware of the bubble of honesty, of vulnerability, that was precariously enclosed. "we can look at it in there," waving into elian's old cabin, "or I can show you mine. wherever you'd be more comfortable." both spaces were prepared to host, however, he didn't know how much longer he could hold back the forces that'd revert the cabin to neutrality. "I hope you'll forgive me for saying this, but..." his hand lightly found lucian's shoulder. "from as far as I can tell, he did exactly as you asked. and I can tell you, that was a deal being made. an offer struck, and a payment accepted." the glimpses he'd gotten, he tried to share them where he could. "he didn't leave us unwillingly. he chose to go, and he did so to protect us. to protect everyone."
with his free hand, he waved for lucian to lead on. either cabin, or neither.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
Adamâs vision blurred at the edges, the world narrowing to the slick sounds of their bodies - wet flesh slapping against flesh, the thick, glugging noise of Stephanosâs cock forcing its way deeper, deeper, too much - and the ragged, broken sounds tearing from his own throat. His fingers slipped on the counter, nails scraping against the ceramic as his arms trembled, barely holding him up.
 The ringâs thrummed through him, skin prickling, muscles clenching both willfully and reflexively around the monstrous thickness of Stephanosâs cock. Adam could feel how his insides struggled to accommodate, the way his body melted and resisted all at once, the drag of Stephanosâs heavy knot catching at his rim, dragging him again and again. His stomach cramped, thighs shook, and his cock - still raging hard and dripping - twitched with every brutal thrust, every pulse of cum flooding him.
Adam's breathing was little more than a few sporadic wet, shuddering gasps, his lips parting as drool slipped down his chin. He could taste copper, the bite of his own lip where heâd sunk his teeth to stifle a virile cry. âNnngh - fuck -â His voice was a wrecked, guttural mess, more sound than word. Body jerking as Stephanosâs knot seated fully, locking them together, the thick, relentless pulses of cum painting his insides. Every rope, every gush, the way it pooled deep inside him, heavy and scorching. His stomach distended slightly, the pressure almost unbearable, but he could not for a moment deny how desperately he wanted it - needed it, needed him. Needed his dad.
Adam rocked back into the onslaught even as his legs threatened to give out. His toes curled, his back arched, his entire body a trembling, overstimulated mess. âSâgood - so fucking good -â Slurred words, his thoughts reduced to fragments - heat, full, Stephanos. He turned his head, his cheek pressing against Stephanosâs, his breath hot and ragged against his skin as his body clenched helplessly around the otherâs swollen cock, milking it, body begging even when completely ruined. His eyes rolled back, lashes fluttering as his vision swam to the tune of the squelch of cum leaking around Stephanosâs cock; Adamâs mind reduced to little more than white noise.
Adam let his head fall back against Stephanosâs shoulder, his body pliant and slack as he dripped with sweat, his breath slow and heavy. âFuck babe- Iâm gonna feel that shit for days.â he groaned, but there was absolutely no fucking complaint to it. Those bestial eyes, that thick overgrowth of denser hair, Adamâs grin was as cocky as he could muster. Best purchase ever. His chest heaved, his core a distended battleground, battered and bruised from the inside out. âFeel this-â Adam swallowed, dragging the father's hand to his abdomen and threading the other's thick, hairy digits through his own across it.Â
adam's body was nearly as loud as his voice, so much displaced within him that it'd be impossible not to make noise, shifting parts of him around. roughly, to accommodate. from the back of stephanos' throat, a snarl curled low, ring-sharpened teeth bared as he buried himself deep. further inside adam than anyone ever before, or so he'd hoped, as he pulsed and throbbed. a fountain of warm load, finding space in adam's gut that might not have been there for it to take.
his arm still barring across adam's torso, that one was pulled lower, the rumbling from stephanos deepening, getting louder, as he felt just how soft he'd pushed adam's core. ruined, in a way. ravaged. claimed, in some sense. marked to the point it'd be impossible not to notice, as the father kept grinding his hips forward, keeping things moving inside adam just enough to allow those wet noises of escape.
"I would hope so," stephanos offered, some semblance of the caring lover finding its way back int his voice. "this is..." his palm, his fingers, sink deeper into adam's belly. "technically impossible." each breath likely pressed against adam's back, tugging his thickened root against the inside of adam's rim. "thank you for the gift. I hope you've enjoyed it as much as I have." matched with a moon-ringed gaze aimed right at adam, above a more lupine grin, reflected in the glass against the dark.
"now, do I carry you to bed to recover? I fear these symptoms might be..." he tucked his nose in behind adam's ear. "lasting."
Lucian doesn't really know how to give condolences like this. He wondered how much more profound the hurt would be for Elian's half brother. He wondered if it was comforting to hear that Elian was a hero. Or that it was in the name of a cause greater than all of them. Was that a soothing balm for the hurt or did it only cause and inflammation of the hurt? If it had been Lucian's brother- well. He wouldn't want to hear those things.
He had counseled people through grief before but it had never been so present for him. He never really understood what they were feeling. Loss like that. In that moment he felt so dumb for standing there in front of the cabin. He raised his hand waving at him. "Hi." he said softly.
"I um...I came to say I'm sorry and I just um...it's kind of stupid but could you...would you indulge me in something stupid I guess?" he asked taking a step forward. If Stephanos said no then he would leave and not bother again. If he accepted well. It was something to selfishly soothe Lucian more than it was Stephanos.
whatever resolution or revelation stephanos might have wanted, regarding elian, was received in the very moment. an understanding. his intentions, the circumstances, their mother's honoring of his decision.
if stephanos was given that gift of closure, the least he could do would be paying it forward. holding strong, being strong, as a shoulder for those who might need somewhere to rest. honestly, he was a little surprised that it took someone that long to show up-- that, or others may have been waiting for him to be cleared out of the space, before taking their time to mourn.
"I doubt much could be considered 'stupid' right now," stephanos offered. pausing, in his movement from one hecate house to the other. "however, I do believe we all should have permission to be stupid sometimes, regardless. what can I do for you?"
