#Being a little mouthy???

[ltcdrmcgarrett]

Soldier!Steve appreciation in 7x24

[gojoshooter]

Accidentally shoving your titties in Husband!Gojo’s face. And you don't even realise until he gives you a mean little chomp :(

cw. bit suggestive. gojo obsessed with biting you.

All you did was sit on top of him, trying to put the tiny buttercups in his fluffy white strands—it's just that he's so big you need to sit in his lap with your knees on his thighs to get your artwork done.

Husband!Gojo did not even bother to brief you about it, having his two favourite girls right on his face—i mean, that’s a fair trade, considering the hours you spent just sitting in his big warm lap fixing the flower crown.

But nuh-uh, that's not all he wants.

nom

You jump in his lap “eeea—!!” oh, he might just take a bite off your flustered little mess of the cheeks as well. Atleast he had the decency to save your fall, palming at your hips. “Toru, what the heck?! meanie!” He can't stop chuckling.

Damn, you hate the fact that you secretly like it. Even when your husband mocks your high pitched squeak. “Tolu whadda heck?! meanie!” you want to punch him good on that smirk; but the way he snickers, pulling you down in his lap to press kisses on your angry little chubby cheeks, it melts you like cotton candy on tongue.

His gentle thumb caresses the spot on your boob he bit, “Sorry cupcake” another bite to your cheek “but you look so soft and chewy, all of you is so...” and a nibble on your cherry pink bottom lip as he holds you like a precious teddy “damn edible” topping it off with a kiss to sooth the spot. “my kikufuku.”

There it is—the culprit. His endearing and infectious smile that throws all your sulking in a bin, whispering that he loves his ‘munchable’ lil wife more than three thousand.

A/N: ’right who's paying for the muzzle 🤨 a short drabble cuz i’m cooking smth :D likes & rbs are appreciated! love<3

TAGS: @anubisisthebomb @dianagracesworld @4sat0ruu @stellagrangerreads12 @momochina-sama @heresan

[bog--unicorn]

life of a bog dog

I’m really starting to love December

[josephslittledeputy]

I should wait till wednesday to post but I can't refrain, so, posting a small snippet of what I've been doing this past month (been reworking chapter 3 of willa's dark fic.... why does writing have to take so damn long)

“You haven’t touched your food.”

“That’s because I’m tied to a fuckin’ chair, John.”

“Ah, right.” His chin juts up, signaling one of his men over.

“What?” She snorts when the peggie lifts a fork full of mashed potatoes to her mouth. “Not gonna make airplane noises too?” Begrudgingly, she leans forward, knowing that she needed the food and to continue playing this role. “Gotta say, it’s better than that other godawful concoction the other night. Are you sure you made this?” This time she directs the question at John, smiling when his fork stops halfway to his mouth.

“You should be grateful I’m doing this at all, Deputy. I could have left you down there with the others.”

“Oh, yes! I am sooo grateful John. Thank you for taking me out of your metal prison and putting me into a wooden one.” Taking another, more forceful bite, she cringes when her teeth scrape against the fork, wanting nothing more than to feed herself for once. But she had yet to earn that privilege. God forbid she stab a fork into someone, as if she wouldn’t just use her teeth if she really wanted to. "So what, are we trauma bonding now or something?"

"What?"

"Well, you shared your trauma then pried mine out too. So what's that make us, hm?"

John stabs the fork into his steak and lifts it to his mouth, chewing thoughtfully after. "I'm trying to help you, Deputy. Don't you see that?"

She leans forward, taking a bite when the peggie lifts the fork to her mouth. Now it's her turn to chew thoughtfully. "What about your parents, John?” Silence. Not even the peggie guards make a noise, though they do exchange nervous glances. "Let's talk about that. About how you broke up your own family… landed yourself in an even worse situation." She tilts her head, satisfied when his jaw clenches with anger. "Alone."

"Enough!" He slams a fist on the table, causing his plate to jump and drawing a few eyes from the guards outside. "We're done here." The chair scrapes against the floor and the thump of his aggravated footsteps slowly fade away.

"Was it somethin' I said?" She flashes the peggie at her side a shit eating grin.

[majorxmaggiexboy]

i lied actually the best scene(s) in the terror are the ones where jopson gets the sillies and just like. gently roasts crozier for no reason and crozier is just sitting there clearly loving it. 

[navree]

sorely tempted to write a thriller based on the madison cawthorn fiasco

[rotten-pup]

Oh pup, why are you making such a fuss now? After all that barking and biting and being such a mouthy little thing, you're whining now that I'm putting your mouth to good use? No more fuss, keep your pretty mouth wrapped around my cock. There you go, such a good pup. Much better than the muzzle, huh pup?

[a-hazbin-reader]

Alastor gets that DILF energy. He’s doing whatever with his kid, holding the baby and just chilling when suddenly reader pounces on him because she finds it so attractive. He doesn’t know what’s going on, but his wife suddenly being… excited isn’t always fun and he won’t say no

YOO-

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Suggestive, ALASTOR GETTING LAID, ALASTOR BEING PUSHED TO HIS LIMIT, Wife is H O R N Y

Description: ☝️⬆️

Alastor has taken to fatherhood more easily than even he had expected, loving and protecting his little family with an intense fierceness

He loves watching his wife tend to their babies, something about it making his chest swell with happiness and pride

He didn't consider that watching him act paternal would do things to his beloved wife

The first time it happens, he doesn't see the correlation at all, just assuming his wife had been feeling pent up

He was putting his children down for bed, arguing with his adorably mouthy little girl while giving her brother his favorite plushie(he needs it to sleep)

"Now I know you're upset with this arrangement, little one, but you and your brother must get some shut eye."

She's visibly displeased, rubbing her eye as she fights off sleep, leaning on his shoulder as she pouts

Alastor sees you watching him in the doorway, a fond smile on your face as you watch him try to convince your daughter to sleep

What he doesn't see is the small flush on your face, the way your eyes follow his arms as he lays the baby down or the way you swallow as he kisses both his children goodnight

Seeing him so caring and gentle and soft is just-doing things to you

Alastor isn't sure WHAT is happening when as soon as the door closes behind him, you're pulling him into the bedroom by his collar

"My dear, what-mmf!"

Later, when he's laying in bed naked, staring up at the ceiling while you doze on his chest, he'll wonder what got into you

Not that he minded, it was just unexpected

The second time it happens?? Alastor has an inkling of what might be setting you off but doesn't know for sure

His son had tripped and fallen, crying his little eyes out, the impact probably having scared him more than any real pain

But Alastor hates seeing his baby boy cry, so he picked him up and gently examined his son's hands, blowing on the little scratches there before kissing them

"There~ Papa made it all better, see?"

The boy simply sniffled and wrapped his little arms around Alastor's neck, seeking the comfort of his father

And Alastor couldn't deny the way his heart swelled, rubbing his son's back as he rocked and soothed the baby

Not even two minutes after he had put down his son, who was suddenly enamored with Vaggie and following her, did Alastor feel a menacing aura

All he felt was his wife's hand on his shoulder before he was suddenly being dragged up the stairs

He barely has time to register your lips on his neck and hands wandering under his clothes before you're cooing at him to touch you

Ah well...how can he say no to such a generous request?

Husk doesn't say anything when a disheveled Alastor stumbles out of the room hours later and drinks everything in sight before going back

Just keep playing with the babies, Husk...just keep playing with the babies...

Alastor starts to legitimately worry that you'll get pregnant again at this point...so soon after the last time...

Alastor is ready for it the third time, having decided to test out his theory and see if he's right

So he's deliberate in playing with his children in front of you, watching your reaction out of the corner of his eye

You're sitting and reading, not even looking up at them...

The twins are currently hiding from him, their little ears poking out from behind the couch as they giggle and try to keep quiet

Alastor is slow and purposeful as he stalks around the couch, brushing a hand against the back of your neck as he passes by

"Now where could my little fawns be hiding, hm~? Surely not...over...HERE~!"

They scream and scramble to run away from their father, only to be scooped up by his strong arms and held close

Now you're glancing over your book at them, your eyes zeroing in on your husband

He's kissing and nuzzling the twins, their little hands pushing his face away as they squirm, unaware of how futile it is

Alastor looks so smug when you put your book down and start to really take an interest in what he's doing

He gives piggyback rides, tosses and catches them, chases them and everything else he can think of

All while being painfully aware of your heated gaze on him

And if he was purposefully teasing you and drawing out a little extra time with his kids... who was gonna know?

So he isn't surprised when Charlie and Vaggie are being put in charge of baby duty, and Alastor is being lead upstairs

He's ready for it when the door locks behind him and you're guiding his hands over your body

He's about ready to tap out when you roll over on top of him, straddling his lap and encouraging him to go again

"Darling...are you sure you're not in heat or something?"

You laugh at him and it's the scariest yet sexiest thing he's ever heard, his manhood curious but confused by his emotions

"Don't tell me your well has gone dry, darling~ Charlie said she'd watch the kids for us all night~"

He wakes up the next day feeling like he got hit by truck, his throat is parched and he has dried sweat on him-

He hears the bedroom door open, and his wife looks so innocent and happy, not at all like the bedroom monster he keeps meeting

You come up and kiss his forehead, sitting down next to him before handing him a glass of water

"Good morning, darling~ Our babies are waiting to see you so hurry up and get out of bed~"

He watches you walk out of the room, a small part of him proud of the slight wobble in your step but a larger part of him scared for his life

He never thought he would go out like this-

Worth it though 👌

HERE! TAKE IT BEFORE MY FACE MELTS FROM BLUSHING

[character-babblings]

this is specifically for my brats and cry babies. united we stand. (also i break canon bc 🫶🏻)

MDNI 18+ only

-Luke Castellan doesn't stand a CHANCE against his crybaby girlfriend. every time he watches your pout that lower lip

-he's a goner. he loves to spoil his sweet girl. he can never tell you no ever.

-and that for sure makes trouble for him when you wanna brat off. sometimes you are genuinely stubborn and other times you're doing it just to get under his skin. and it for sure does.

-let's say you wanna mouth off to him in front of people just for a laugh. he's noting and remembering that shit for later girl.

his nails are just digging into your hips as he has you doggy style and he is just destroying your cunt from the back. and he is PISSED. you have been such a little brat alllllll day. embarrassing him at training by being sassy to him. you got him hard at lunch nonchalantly with everyone around. you catching him off guard at training and using the opportunity to beat him. he's absolutely at his limit with you. you feel a hand on the back on your head, shoving it into the bed.

"you can shut up princess. you're on my damn nerves today. i spoil you and this pretty cunt and you repay me with...what? being a little fucking brat?!" he grows as he all of a sudden starts to play with your clit. you're a whiny mess under him. "you're not so fucking mouthy now are you?" he sneers as he grits his teeth. he stills inside you, looking around the woods. reveling in how tight you are around him and how you clench every so often. he inhales deeply as he looks at you, well, your ass in the air mainly. laying a sharp smack on your ass. flicking your clit and laughing as you let out a cry. "i don't feel bad for the fact that you're not about to sit comfortable for the next few days princess."

and ofc you can't!

-luke who takes his sweet girl with him when he leaves camp. and makes a life for himself and his girl.

-has for sure make you ride his thigh when he games, or lets you sit on his lap while cockwarming while he games (my love language)

-also has had you suck his dick while he games. he's obsessed with it. especially when he's playing with friends.

-loved kissing your tears away. especially if you're overstimulated.

you're an absolute MESS beneath him. on your fourth orgasm and your poor clit is just throbbing in pain. you're crying whining as he has your legs on his shoulders and just plowing you as his balls slap your ass so loudly. your sweet ass is just jiggling as one of his hands reach down to grab it tightly before letting go and slapping it as you whine and cry.

"p-please...no more luke-"

"oh poor little thing. you're so overstimulated aren't you baby?" he mocks your cries. slowing down ever so lightly as a hand reaches up to grab your tit. squeezing it before slapping it harshly with a wicked grin. "too bad"

oooooooooooweeeeeeee i NEED HIM. i'll be back to write more before too long.

[blackleatherjacketz]

Mouthy

Miguel O'Hara x Female Reader

Summary: Miguel has been watching you, and is willing to do anything it takes to get you to join his team.

Warnings: 18+ Only!, NSFW, Explicit Smut, Teasing, Flirting, Kissing, Biting, Blood Drinking, Licking, Thigh Riding, Undressing, Voyeurism, Female Masturbation, Finger Sucking, Hair Pulling, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Sex

Word Count: 2.6k+

Read more of my MIGUEL stories!

You had been toying with Miguel all night, sparring with him until your sweaty session had resulted in swinging from rooftop to rooftop, leading his tour of your world to an end at the top of your apartment building. Three separate visits to your universe in the span of two months had led you to believe that he was getting desperate for help, or for something else. The first time he showed up was to help you battle one of the more formidable foes of your crime-fighting career, the second to ask you to join his group of heroes to fight off even bigger threats, and the third, well… you’re still trying to pin down.

If Miguel is anything, it’s persistent.

“Give up already?” He chides, denting the metal of the AC unit with his landing as you finally stop swinging.

“Who’s giving up?” You pull the mask off your sweaty face as his head piece disappears without a trace, revealing his gorgeous features and flowing raven locks.

“It’s only midnight,” he points to his watch as he walks toward you, those hips of his sauntering in a way that nearly hypnotizes you on the spot. “Plenty of other threats around the city to be squashed.”

“Then go squash them.” You challenge, tilting your head to look at him from another angle. Why can’t men in my universe look like him?

“You’d like that, huh?” He keeps advancing until he stops just short of you, his broad shoulders towering over you as a light breeze blows the smoky scent of his cologne into your nostrils. As if you hadn’t already committed it to memory. “If I did all the work?”

“Well, you can’t blame a lady for wanting to know if something’s worth her while.” You tease as he closes the space between you, backing you up against the rusted metal door of the stairwell. “Because if we’re being honest, Miguel, I’ve thought long and hard about it, and I’m perfectly fine here on my own.”

“I can see that.” His irises glow a fiery red against the white sclera of his eyes, searching your face for any hint of doubt or deceit. Your senses had been telling you that he wanted much more from you than just a teammate, the sound of his pulse quickening whenever he looked at you barely louder than the silence of his stilled breath. He wanted you… needed you almost as carnally as you needed him, and it was getting to be more difficult for either of you to ignore it.

“But don’t you want to be more than ‘just fine’?” He plants his palms against the brick structure behind you, his direct proximity tying a knot into your stomach as the night sky behind him somehow bleeds a passionate crimson hue. You can visibly see his intentions, actually feel the desire as it emanates out of his pores and into the hot summer air, drawing you in with its magnetic pull. “Don’t you want to be amazing?”

“I can tell that you do.” You smirk, prolonging your trance as you trace the bright red outline of the spider on his chest, watching it rise and fall faster with each word you speak. “Not everybody wants what you want, Miguel.”

“Is that so?” He leans in close, his full lips brushing against your ear as the hair on the back of your neck stands on end. “Is that why you moan my name at night every time I leave your world?” He slides his knee swiftly between your legs, gently lifting it up the crevice of your thighs until it rubs that sensitive spot between them.

“You’ve been watching me?” You knew that he’d been keeping tabs on you from whatever little hideout he had beyond your known universe, but you didn’t realize that he was paying that close attention to you. How much of your behavior had he actually witnessed? Was he speculating, hopeful, or had he actually watched while you slid your fingers beneath your underwear to satisfy that sudden urge his presence always seemed to evoke?

“You’re surprised?” He jeers confidently, his breath hot on your neck as he draws out a groan from your chest with another brush of his thigh, tapping into your natural moisture.

“That doesn’t really seem fair,” you start, eyes fluttering to catch glimpses of that scarlet sky phasing in and out of black and magenta as he continues to stimulate you. “You get to see all of me, but I don’t get to see any of you.”

You wonder just how far he took his viewings of you late at night; how many times he tuned into his recurring guest appearances in your imagination before you pleasured yourself into a dull, blissful slumber. Had he joined you in your handiwork, stroking himself in tandem, worlds apart, just in time to mutter your name with his release before the connection was lost? Or had he stayed tuned way past your loss of consciousness, hoping to hear some verbal confirmation of his presence even in your dreams?

“We can change that, you know.” He closes his eyes as you run your fingers through his hair, his thick lashes feathering over the shell of your ear as he presses a kiss into your neck.

“You’re gonna let me spy on you when you jerk off, too?” Your breath halts as he tastes the skin behind your ear and underneath your jawline, his teeth nipping at your pulse to make you pay for your quippy retort.

“Aye, cariño, are you always this mouthy?” He grabs onto your chin in a failed attempt to reign you in, the tips of his protracted claws nearly breaking your skin as he thrusts himself against you.

“You have no idea.”

—————————————

Miguel manages to stumble into your apartment with your legs wrapped around his waist, his clawed hands grasping at your thighs as they desperately cling to his hips. He pulls you up into him as he rounds the corner past your couch, his erection stretching the navy blue fabric of his suit as it grows harder against the drenched mound between your legs.

“You fucking taste like heaven, you know that?” He whispers through a dozen hungry kisses, the sharp sting to your skin and the iron of your blood flooding your senses as he bites down onto your bottom lip, wantonly sucking it into his mouth. That twinge of pain that would have hurt before you got your powers is nothing more than a scratch, a mere tickle as the warmth of his tongue soon counters it. He tugs and pulls every bit of flavor he can out of it, savoring each hint of salt and remnant of coffee on your tastebuds as he nearly gnaws your lip right off in the process, running into every wall along the way until he eventually reaches your bedroom.

“I thought you said those things were venomous.” You worry aloud, just now noticing their size and severity as he tosses you onto your bed with a lick of his lips.

“Only when I need them to be.” He grins and helps you peel your suit off your arms and torso, tugging it down past your hips and thighs before stepping out of his own spider suit with unmatchable ease. Eyes ravenous with lust, he watches you pull the last bit of stretchy cloth off your calves and feet, licking the tips of his fangs again as you toss your costume onto the floor.

“Well that’s lucky for me, then.” You sit up and press your knees into the mattress in order to get closer to him.

“Lucky for both of us.” He slides his thumbs beneath his boxer briefs and exposes what he’s working with, stealing the very breath from your lungs. Before you can comment on how big he is, before you can make a joke about how you won’t be able to walk tomorrow, he steps toward you and places his hand in the middle of your chest, pushing you flat onto your back.

“Touch yourself,” he instructs sternly.

“What?” Your brow furrows. Hasn’t he gotten enough of that through his viewfinder? Wasn’t that the whole point of him coming here in person? To actually touch you with his own hands and taste you with his own mouth? So that he didn’t have to just watch?

“I want you to touch yourself like you do when you think I’m not watching,” he reiterates, standing his ground as he resists the temptation to stroke himself, a single droplet of precum leaking from the tip of his cock.

“Oh. Okay.” You nod, his demanding tone of flattery quickly fueling your actions as it overpowers that inherent sense of stage fright nagging in the back of your head. “I can do that.”

You watch him hold his breath as you slide two fingers into your mouth, sucking on them as gratuitously as you can before pulling them out with a long trail of spit leading down your chin. His eyes follow your digits with rapt attention as you bring them down your body, their deep ruby hues darkening to burgundy as his pupils begin to dilate. You hear his breath hitch as you graze over your hardened nipples, snake your way down your navel and finally smooth them in between your soaking wet folds, exciting the sensitive neurons that have been begging for attention since the moment he arrived.

Doing as you’re told, you spread your juices up and down the length of your lips, catching a glimpse of his cock twitching against his stomach in anticipation, throbbing as you slowly pull upward on your clit. You can’t help but wonder how amazing he’s going to feel once he’s inside of you, your fingers barely able to do his length and girth any justice as you slide them inside your walls.

“That’s it, baby, just like that,” he finally exhales with a hint of a moan. He retracts his claws with a bite of his lip, cautiously touching your bare feet with the palms of his hands before slowly spreading your legs apart as he continues to watch you work. “Who knew your pussy’d be just as pretty as your face, huh?”

You huff in exasperation, too stunned to speak as his grin mimics your smile from the edge of the bed.

“You look even better from this angle, you know that?” Another lick of his lips spurns a trail of kisses onto the balls of your feet as he crawls between your legs, sucking little bruises into your calves and behind your knees; mementos for you to remember him by once he inevitably returns to his own world. You keep rubbing your bud up and down as he advances along your body; his lips, teeth and tongue massaging the skin of your inner thigh as waves of pleasure start building up into your core from both of your tantalizing efforts.

It isn’t long before he lifts your leg up over his shoulder, biting into your thigh once more before looking up at you with completely blackened eyes, your blood now staining his lips as it smears across his cheek. You moan as he takes his time lapping up the scarlet fluid as it mixes with his saliva, dripping down between your crevices as his mouth gets that much closer to your needy center.

Without a word of warning, he grabs onto your wrist and carefully pulls your fingers out of your swollen heat before encircling them with his lips. Those charcoal eyes of his roll back into his head, a deep guttural groan vibrating around your fingers as his tongue surrounds them, the savory flavor of your blood now blending in with the sweet tanginess of your sex. You push them in even further past his blood-stained lips, shivering in arousal as he sucks all the way down to your knuckles, making a sloppy show of licking them clean before finally drawing them out.

“Not so mouthy anymore, huh?” He asks, kissing the palm of your hand before lifting it up and placing your wet fingers into his hair.

“Uh-uh,” you whisper, the heat from his breath sending phantom pulses of bliss up through your spine, leaving you practically speechless.

“Then let’s see if I can get you to make some noise.” He licks a stripe up the length of your folds, choosing not to use his fangs on your most sensitive area as he focuses solely on tasting your raw flesh. He groans into your skin as he licks you up and down, inhaling your pheromonal scent as if your very essence is the only thing capable of sustaining him any further.

Your eyelids fall shut as you allow a few breathy moans to escape your lips, his tongue saturating every receptor you have with such an intense euphoria that it forces your hips to buck up into his mouth. Your grip on his onyx locks tightens as he continues to suck on your clit, pulling it taut into his mouth just like he had with your bottom lip, persistently eating you out like a man starved for days.

“See how good you are at following my orders?” He stops licking you just as you’re on the brink of ecstasy, a thin ring of red now glowing around the rims of his irises. “I just need you to do one more thing for me.”

“Oh yeah, and what’s that?” You barely have the capacity to ask, your muscles vibrating beneath him with the promise of release that he so quickly took away from you.

His full lips curl into a smirk as he licks your bud one last time, kissing his way up your belly and breasts before reaching your neck, his cock needily bobbing between your legs until it slides inside you without ceremony. You gasp as his girth fills you up with impeccable ease, your slick walls welcoming his thick throbbing member, clenching down around him as he gently thrusts up into you.

“Miguel!” You shout in a stifled whisper, stars shining in your eyes as the tip of his cock hits that bundle of nerves he’s been teasing all night.

“Come for me,” he growls against your throat, all traces of that controlled man fading away as he pins your wrists to the mattress before bottoming out completely, rutting into you repeatedly like a wild animal.

“Mmm hmm!” Your moans echo off the walls in your bedroom as he drives himself further inside your heat, ricocheting off your nightstand and ceiling fan until they dissipate into the air above you, falling down like raindrops as they cover you both. His hips only quicken their steady pace the deeper he gets, sending hit after hit of white hot bliss up into your core until your body can no longer take it.

That wave of pleasure you’re so used to delivering yourself nearly takes you out completely as it washes over every inch of you from the inside out. It paints every cell in your skin, muscles and bones all the colors of the rainbow under Miguel’s hypnotic thrusts, his sweat dripping down onto you in tiny translucent beads before melting into your skin. Both of you phase in and out a variety of shades and patterns as you wrap your legs around his hips, drawing him in to make sure he feels the heightened state of nirvana he’s finally brought you to.

“I can feel you falling apart around me, cariño,” he whispers into your shoulder, thrusting one last time as hard as he can as he twitches and spasms inside you. Lavender paisleys, red and white stripes, olive and orange checkers all slowly fade away to a calm light blue before he pulls out and eventually lets go of your wrists. “You sure you don’t want to join my team?”

[wegc]

perv!channie and reader finally fucking but she teases him the whole time until he has had enough. “you’re such a fucking pervert” and “you’re so disgusting” all while she’s grinning at him and riding him like her life depends on it. he’s literally a second away from cumming as soon as he’s inside her. “you really think you deserve to cum? after fantasizing about fucking your best friend’s sister?” she denies him to cum for so long that he finally snaps and flips her over, pounding into her like a madman. “such a tease, you whore” and “don’t have much to say now, huh?” she cums so hard but he’s not done. even after he cums, he aint done either…

OK IM DONE AHHHHHH (please feel free to finish or add on or write more to it bc i would v much appreciate it)

i’m ascending. something about cocky!reader paired with a perpetually flustered, perv!chan is such a mouthwatering combination.

perv!chan whose cock twitches inside you every time you humiliate him with yet another reminder of how repulsive and depraved he is; he can’t bite back immediately because you’re right. he’s nothing but a disgusting pervert and he’s fortunate that you aren’t completely appalled by him.

when you grip the base of his cock and guide him inside your dripping cunt, chan feels like he could pass away beneath you. every delusion of his, whether it emerged in his bedroom or your washroom—a mere room away from you—was coming true and it was far better than he had ever imagined.

all he can do is pant and whine under you, taking in the sight of your tits bouncing in his face and the cute flush of your face, which scrunched up in pleasure. most importantly, the feeling of your cunt—the warmest thing in the world—took his breath away; his cunt, all his—he’d make sure of it.

the overwhelming feeling of being inside you, the epiphany and high of all his dreams and desires coming true right before him has his poor cock pulsing inside you, seconds away from cumming. each flutter of your cunt, each moment your fingers teased his nipples or when your hot, wet mouth whined against his had him feeling lightheaded—he knew he wouldn’t last long.

and your teasing—while it did turn him on, it also infuriated him. god, you were such a fucking brat—a mouthy little handful. did you frankly know what he thought of every time he stroked his cock to the image of you? you wouldn’t be behaving so pretentiously if you knew all the things he yearned to do to you, all the positions he’d bend you in, all the fondling and groping he had dreamt of, all the mean and obscene remarks he’d taunt you with, all the ways in which he would make you beg for more. you had no fucking clue.

before you even realize it, you’re pulled off his cock and manhandled to your hands and knees, where the drilling of chan’s cock seizes your breath. he’s suddenly so deep inside your cunt—you swear the tip of his cock might kiss your cervix—and you can scarcely catch some air every time he snaps his hips to go harder.

chan would grin, smacking your ass, laughing shakily at the sounds of your yelps and wailing with each drag of his length. your face is buried in his pillow, but even that hardly muffles your loud sobs and pleas.

“god, you don’t ever shut up do you?”

“fuckin’ brat, you want more?”

“dirty little thing, you’re just as gross as me.”

“you feel like a whore, don’t you? doesn’t it make you feel dirty, knowing everything i’ve done? you hate that you like it, don’t you?”

chan, who fucks until dawn, cumming continually inside you and pulling out periodically to observe and engrave the way his cum oozes out of your gaping hole. he feels so pleased as he takes in the bruises and marks he’s littered on your body, marking you as his. or even better, the way your eyes gloss over, looking at him desperately with tearful eyes. your hair is dishevelled, draped messily across his ruined sheets, and your lips are bruised with his kisses and nibbles, lipgloss pathetically smudged away.

“so fucking pretty—my pretty girl, yeah? you wanna go again? can’t go without me, hm? need me so bad to stop all that fussing, right?”

“you’re all mine now, you know that? can’t fuck you just once—can’t have you looking at other people.”

[euphemiaamillais]

trash magic - coriolanus snow

coriolanus snow has taken an interest in you, a pretty district 12 girl. however, when you get a little bit too mouthy with the peacekeeper, he reminds you of your place… which is on your knees

cw: 18+//dub-con//peacekeeper!coryo x district 12!reader//blowjobs//piv sex//semi-public sex//creampie//rough sex

the hob is bursting with the colourful music of the covey as miners and girls alike dance to their tunes. you are swaying a little, hand fisting the gingham material of your dress, standing far too close to the peacekeepers who are brooding over the benches at the back.

one of them has his eyes on you, icy gaze boring into your form as you move your hips ever so slightly. he wonders if you’re doing it on purpose, if you’ve seen how the last two weekends, he’s watched you, and only you, instead of lucy gray. he’s looking for a new songbird, one that’s perhaps a little more tame than the one onstage.

you seem to be the perfect candidate.

pretty, with a sweet-face and plump lips. the very picture of innocence. except for the fact that right now, billy taupe has pulled you into a dance. coriolanus sees you laugh, a halcyon tone escaping those pretty lips of yours, and how you bat your eyelashes a little. it’s disgusting. that criminal, touching you, when you are his.

when the song ends, you and billy taupe speak a little more, and he watches as you brush your hand innocently against his arm. coriolanus feels his face burn red with rage, and his hands clench into fists.

billy taupe leaves you alone, and as the next song begins, you feel a pair of hands on your hips. you cry out, slapping them away, but you find he’s too strong; whoever’s groping at you.

‘hey! get your hands off of me before i take my knee and put it up you—’ you stop speaking as you come face to face with the blonde peacekeeper, the one who’s eyes have been following you for weeks now. your heart starts, but you attempt to swallow your fear.

‘careful, doll,’ he grins, perfect teeth drawn into a wolffish smile. ‘i don’t think you want to end up with the charge of threatening a peacekeeper.’

it takes everything in you not to scowl, and instead you force a nod, and attempt to slip away, an apologetic look upon your brow. but something deters you—your wrist is being clutched by his strong hands.

‘i’ve seen you, always hanging round billy taupe. he’s no good,’ he states, as if it’s an order you are obliged to follow. you don’t know why he cares, he doesn’t even know your name.

‘are you telling me off, mr peacekeeper, or are you jealous? ‘cus it sounds like the latter to me,’ you tease, deciding you can’t wear the mask of unaffected ness. the way he is practically commanding you makes you seethe with ire.

‘i could have you strung up for daring to speak to me like that,’ he clamps down on your wrist tighter, drawing you flush against his form. you can feel the outline of his holster pressing into your thigh; the steel cold to your skin. his hands are cold too; frigid, in spite of the heat swallowing the hob whole.

‘oh really? i’d like to see you try. can’t fool me with that face, pretty boy,’ you murmur, and coriolanus feels his free hand veer out as if he’s about to slap you, but he restrains himself, and remembers it will be more trouble if he hit you—peacekeepers had to maintain some sort of decorum, particularly with the ladies.

‘you really should know better than to talk back to a peacekeeper,’ he seethes, eyes burning with anger.

‘maybe i don’t know any better…’ you purse your lips, lashes fluttering like they did at billy taupe. coriolanus rolls his eyes, the way you’re so blatantly teasing him, egging him on. it’s almost as if you are looking for trouble.

‘what is it with you district girls, can’t seem to follow a damn order?’ he mutters, shaking his head.

‘oh, i can follow orders, but only if you tell me real nice,’ you smirk, corners of your lips curling up mischievously.

‘stop teasing, it makes you seem like a whore,’ he spat.

‘well, what if i was one? would you punish me for that? try me out yourself to determine if i was good enough?’ you brush a hand against his chest, causing him to flinch. he can’t deny how much he wants you, but to admit that here would be embarrassing, shameful even. that a boy from the capitol would want a district girl like you.

‘you…’ his voice trails off, mouth going dry at your abrupt comment.

‘what, cat got your tongue? not so tough now mr peacekeeper.’ you laugh in that pretty lilt of yours.

that infuriates him, and his hand balls up into a fist. god, if you weren’t so pretty he wouldn’t have hesitated to drive his fist into your skull. instead, he pulls you by the arm, out of the hob, ignoring the pretty brown eyes of lucy gray that followed him, a sad smile stretching upon her lips as sees saw him haul another girl away.

when you are outside, the balmy air kisses your cheeks. your thighs burn as he gropes your arm, and you can see lust brimming in his eyes, along with the ire only a peacekeeper held.

‘you really need to learn your lesson,’ he scolds, shoving you up against the wall outside the hob. your head spins a little, stars dancing across your eyes.

‘what, don’t talk back to a peacekeeper? i know that already. besides, wouldn’t have done it if i didn’t think you were so cute. now, when you search me, do you want to check under my clothes, just to be thorough?’

he slaps your cheek, watching as you flinch, but surprisingly blink away the tears before they can spill. you take it well, but don’t retaliate. the impact, and the show of his impressive prowess, makes you want him all the more.

coriolanus’ hands are roaming over your breasts, and he drives a knee between your thighs, keeping you pliant for him. he moves his hands down to your waist, feeling the flimsy fabric of your dress under his fingers. he wonders what you’d look like underneath, whether you’re as pretty as you look. he can see that your nipples were receptive to his touch; peeking through your dress. you are a slut, he reasons, because you’re not even wearing a bra.

‘you really shouldn’t have spoken to me like that,’ he tuts, grasping at your hips, pressing hard enough that you can feel bruises blooming in the skin.

‘why? you going to tell on me to your commander?’ you snicker, enjoying the way he’s growing more enraged.

your thighs burn a little as his touch softens again, one hand travelling to the hem of your skirt. he’s cold against your skin, and leans in to whisper your ear. his breath tickles, and you find a heavy breath escapes your lips.

‘no, but i do think you need to be taught a lesson,’ he murmurs, hand sliding up against your thigh.

if he hadn’t done it himself, you would’ve spread your legs for him. you can’t deny it, he’s so hot, and the way he’s so determined to maintain his authority—perhaps fuck you into obedience—only makes you want him all the more.

‘mhm,’ you sigh as his palm finds the apex of your thigh, teasingly rubbing the smooth expanse of skin.

‘you’re going to be a good girl, and take my cock,’ he says, pulling away from your ear to see your reaction.

your brows quirk up, as if you are surprised, but your lips reveal that you’re enjoying this as much as he is. as if you had been doing it all on purpose, riling him up so he’ll bury his cock in you.

he unzips his pants, grunting as your eyes settle on his bulge. even in his boxers, you can see how big he is, the outline making your mouth begin to fill with saliva and your palms tingle slightly.

‘you know how to suck cock?’ he asks, palming himself.

‘mhm,’ you nod, letting him use his other hand to shove you to the ground.

you frown, reealising there’s coal dust on the asphalt, but when it coats everything in twelve, you can’t really complain too much. coryo pulls down his boxers, and your cock meets his face. he must be eight inches, bigger than you’ve ever seen before (well, you’ve only ever been with one other man), the tip is red and leaking a little.

‘you’re gonna take me until i come, and you’re gonna swallow it all… then, maybe if you’ve learned your lesson, i’ll fuck you,’ he dictates, and you nod, a little drool dribbling from the corner of your mouth.

you give his head an exploratory lick, earning a groan from his lips, and use the flat of your tongue to swirl around and lick up the little droplets of precum on his tip.

‘so good,’ he moans, rooting his fingers in your curls.

being more inclined to meanness, he pushes himself past your lips, watching as you struggle to take all of him in. when his cock hits the back of your throat, you gag, and he chuckles, gaze fixed on your watering eyes.

‘can’t—’ you mutter, unable to speak because he continues to push his cock against your throat.

fat tears roll down your face, and your cheeks burn red, partially with anger, and also because you’re so turned on. you want nothing more than to rub at your clit; it’s throbbing so hard that you have to clench your thighs together.

‘come on, you can take it, can’t you, bunny?’ he inquires, bucking his hips against your mouth.

you attempt to nod, quite bleary, but to you’re determined to please him. you lave your tongue up and down his veiny cock, attempting to fight your gag reflex, clenching your hands into fists because you’ve heard that helps.

‘i think i like you better like this, not so mouthy now… can’t talk back to me,’ he pushes your head down, groaning with delight as your saliva coats his shaft. ‘so fucking obedient now.’

you hum, enjoying the praise, albeit that it’s laced with insults too. you’re nothing to him, really. just another pretty district girl to take his cock, another whore to punish. he revels in the newfound power he can exert over the district citizens, that he can coax the girls into anything all because he’s the highest order and he must be obeyed.

he begins to rut against your throat, feeling himself close already. he doesn’t want to admit that you had gotten him so riled up, and tries to pretend that your tongue is just that good that he is about to come.

the way you gag around him is so pretty, his balls slap against your chin as you clench at his thighs. drool spills from your lips now, like you���re salivating over his cock. he don’t know how much more he can take. he slides himself out for a second, and coaxes you to go back to licking the tip.

you run your hands up and down one half of his shaft, while you swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, admiring how good it feels. you can already begin to taste the beginnings of his load; it’s slightly salty but you’re eager to swallow it down. eager to do what the peacekeeper says, because really, you’d been teasing him so much on purpose.

‘fuck, gonna cum,’ coriolanus groans, pushing his cock back down your throat, pumping it back and forth a three times before he feels his balls tense up.

he spills a hot load down your throat, pressing his cock right against the back of your mouth to ensure that you swallow all of it down. when he slides out of your mouth, you take your time to diligently lick up all the cum that dropped down his shaft, and then gaze up at him, with wide, dumb eyes and stick your tongue out. you’ve licked all of his load up, and he groans in delight.

‘good girl,’ he muses, patting your head.

for a moment, he almost seems sweet. that’s until he’s forcing your mouth open again, and he leans down and spits right into it. you gag, eyes squeezing shut as you attempt to force it down, the wet stuff not pleasant. you can taste the white liquor he’s downed, and you shudder slightly.

when he sees this indifference, he takes it as defiance, and uses this an excuse to slap you again. this time it stings, and you can’t force the tears away. he sneers, tired of the waterworks. you’re so pathetic, on your knees like this, pleading with him to not hurt you again because oh look, he’s drawn blood. a tiny sliver of it trickles down from your cheekbone. you’re whining over nothing.

‘stop fucking complaining!’ he yells, forcing you back up against the wall.

when you attempt to glance down, terrified of meeting his gaze, he yanks a fistful of your hair and makes sure you can see his icy eyes burning into yours. his lip is curled up in anger, and he tugs at your hair again; scalp prickling.

‘don’t think you’ve earned your right to cum, stupid slut,’ he spits, feeling his cock harden again. your whining, the way you’re so desperate for him even though he’s hurting you, is making him so hard. he just has to do something about it.

he uses his free hand to stroke his cock until it’s fully hardened, and then slides his fingers up your bare thighs until he meets the waistband of your panties. they’re pink lace, and so tiny he’s certain you wore them just for him. what a whore.

‘now, you’re going to take my cock, and if i hear so much as a complaint i won’t hesitate to take my gun out,’ you can see it shining in its holster, so you give a terrified nod, legs trembling as his knee holds you up against the wall.

he slides your panties down, just enough that he can get his cock inside of you, and he presses the tip against your folds. you’re soaking wet; so much so that it’s embarrassing, the slick is coating his head.

‘look at that, can’t even help how fuckin’ wet you are for me, huh?’ he shakes his head in disbelief.

you let out a soft whine as he slaps your pussy, your clit throbbing with the need to be touched. you’re so desperate to just use your hand, but you’re afraid of what he’ll do to you, afraid that he’ll press the cold, hard barrel of the gun into your temple and pull the trigger. you didn’t have anybody to miss you.

coriolanus slides his cock inside of you, groaning as your tight walls stretch around him. he’s big, and for a moment you feel tears brimming in your waterline as you attempt to take him. you have practically soaked his cock now, and he’s not even been inside for five seconds.

‘fuck,’ he mutters, beginning to rut against you.

you toss your head back against the wall, and keep your eyes shut as he pounds into you, pace fastening with every thrust. you can tell he’s only there to chase his release, and to teach you a lesson; make you obey him. you cry out in pleasure as his tip presses against your cervix, but you’re only vocal for fear of what he’ll do to you.

‘so fucking tight, and all for me,’ he grunts, gripping your thighs. his touch causes a painful ache across the skin, and red finger marks where he’s groped you are visible.

‘so good,’ you manage to muster up, head knocking slightly against the brick wall.

coriolanus tugs at your hair again, forcing your eyes open and meet his gaze for a brief moment. he presses a hot kiss against your lips, and then trails them down across your jaw, peppering kisses until he reaches your collarbones. they’re visible from years of malnourishment, and he scrapes his teeth against the outline of the bones as his mouth grazes the delicate skin.

you let out an exasperated sigh. and run your hand across his buzzed hair. he makes a sound between a mewl and a groan, burying his cock so deep inside of you that you can feel his balls slap against your perineum. if anyone is in the alley, the sound of your wet pussy taking his cock can be heard; stretching around him as he presses himself deeper and deeper.

‘oh, fuck!’ you gasp; not nearing your own pleasure, because you don’t dare, not when he’s told you you can’t. but it’s a pleasant warmth that continues to pool inside of you as his tip pokes at your g-spot, almost coaxing you to let yourself unfurl. but you don’t.

coriolanus feels himself nearing his release again. you’re so fucking pliant now, and it’s doing his head in. perhaps if he does this enough times, you’ll be completely docile. do whatever he wants, be his pretty doll to fuck whenever he pleases, to fill her up everytime without complaint.

‘gonna fill you up,’ he groans, bucking with tenacity into you.

it aches a little, how hard he’s going, how big he is. your tightness is becoming unbearable for him, and he feels his vision go white for a moment as he yields to his conclusion. with a final thrust, he buries his cum deep inside of you, tight cunt taking every last drop of his pearly cum.

‘look at that, taking my cum like a little whore,’ he muses, continuing to push his cock into you, ensuring that your cunt is taking it all in, a reminder that you now belong to him.

you purse your lips as he pulls out, and you feel his cum leaking down your thighs. before you can do anything about it, he pulls your panties up and laughs, pearly white teeth showing again. they’re almost too perfect, you think. there’s something terrifying about his face, so noble and dignified, and yet he deigns to fuck you so primally.

‘there you go, bunny,’ he says. ‘gotta make sure you remember who you belong to, hm?’

you want to shake your head, to force out a furious ‘no’ because you don’t belong to anyone but yourself, but you find yourself unable to do anything except nod dumbly. look at that, completely submissive and dumb from his cock. exactly how he wants you. stupid and babbling. not mouthy. no, that’s not allowed.

‘did you learn from your punishment, bunny?’ he strokes your cheek with an eerie gentleness, thumb smoothing the now-dried blood on your cheek.

‘yes, thank you, private,’ you remark, lips twisting prettily into a smile. your mouth is like a rosebud; how fitting.

‘next time, i won’t be so kind.’ he murmurs.

you can't deny that heat pools between your thighs as he mentions next time—as if it's a certainty and not something ambiguous like an unkept promise.

'i'll make sure of that, mr peacekeeper.'

[theeveninghour]

All My Dreaming

Summary: You came to the Night Court as a fugitive and quickly became a valued member of the Inner Circle. Azriel’s love for you has burned brightly in his chest for nearly two centuries now, but when an unknown force threatens to take you from him, he must fight to keep you at his side.

Pairing: Azriel x Winter Court!Reader

A/N: I don’t use Y/N here just out of personal preference, but the IC do call reader “Little One” because she’s younger than them by like a century or so. Also, slight timeline deviation? I kind of just made the ACOTAR timeline work for me a little bit but the important bits are there mostly. If it’s not totally accurate, please suspend your disbelief and go with it. I also took some serious liberties with Prythian geography and Azriel’s shadows in this. I had to force myself to stop because I could’ve written five more scenes, so let me know if you all want a part two. I got nasty Azriel thots to spare, baby! 

WC: 16.1k  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

TW: 18+, Minors DNI, violence, death, descriptive gore, lots of time jumps, torture, smut, p in v, fingering, porn with plot, mating, slow burn, angst, friends to lovers, declarations of love, loving sexy times, miscommunications abound, Azriel being a big ole softie, Azriel being a big ole bitch to bad men, Azriel really going tf thru it emotionally, and Azriel being mouthy as fuck. Just girly things. 

Part 2

Azriel hadn’t seen you in four days. Nearly a week had passed since you’d left. Rhys mentioned a mission but no additional details, Cassian avoided the topic, knowing how frustrated his brother got when you were gone, and Feyre was decidedly unhelpful the few times he’d brought you up. His shadows searched aimlessly, they’d found nothing as far south as Winter Court, daring not venture into Autumn, and knowing damn well you’d never step foot into Spring. You were slowly driving him mad; the bond in his chest aching at the loss. Even if you hadn’t recognized the golden thread linking the two of you, he felt it. 

Gods, did he feel it. He’d often lay in his bed at night, eyes tracing the intricate foil patterns of the ceiling tiles. When sleep evaded him, as it frequently did, he’d grasp the thread tightly in his minds eye and tug it experimentally, begging you to see, to notice it was him that loved you with a ferocity that rivaled the sun. Try as he might, the responding tug never answered, his call into the void not returning an echo. 

The second it snapped for him, Azriel had resolved himself as unworthy, not of someone like you. You were powerful, breathtakingly beautiful, intimidatingly intelligent, and you regularly brought men to their knees, both in political circles and on the battlefield. Rhys relied on you as much he did Cassian and Az, you were a core member of his court, a valuable asset, and the love of Azriel’s life. Azriel avoided the latter subject entirely, choosing instead to silently stoke the ember in chest with unyielding affection; his own private paramour. 

When you’d joined the Night Court, you’d been on the run from both Winter and Autumn Courts. Your father was a high fae noble in Winter that had attempted to arrange a marriage to the second youngest Vanserra of Autumn. The family’s brutal reputation was legend and you were terrified. You were young then, barely a century old, and upon your introductory visit to the Autumn Court, Beron sought to make an impression by presenting a welcome gift. That gift? The public torture and execution of a servant he’d deemed traitorous. 

His gleaming eyes remained on yours with each cast of the fire whip he’d conjured using his cruel magic. He’d cracked it again and again until blood splattered and the servant was left flayed beyond recognition, flesh searing, and finger tips twitching from the remaining neurons firing in his brain. Only after his death did Beron announce his crimes. He’d stolen a parcel of food from the royal pantry to feed his wife and small child. Your stomach churned at the thought of the now widow and fatherless child waiting at home for the male that would never return. 

It had all been a test to see if you were worthy of the most violent and petulant of the broody sons, and you’d passed, holding Beron’s stare and keeping your back straight as you faced his wrath head on. You’d cried yourself dry in your room that night though, sobs wracking your form until your chest ached, grief for the male that was lost. Fear settled into your heart, terror of the family you were set to marry into. 

You’d ran at first light, leaving with nothing but the clothes on your back. Your Winter white blonde hair streaking across the red and orange forest as you bolted. Beron sent his dogs after you. You still had the scars lining your calves from where they’d gotten too close, brought you down into the dirt, jaws snapping and tearing at the muscly sinew there. But you’d fought. You’d kicked and clawed like a feral child of the woods, screaming with a sense of self preservation you’d never known you possessed. 

Rhysand had found you half dead, starving and a little savage in the mountainous border between the Day and Night Courts. He’d made a bargain with you then; he’d save you, if you worked for him. Word had already spread of the ousted Winter female and spurned Autumn princeling and Rhysand was impressed you’d lasted in the wilds undetected for so long. The small star flecked tattoo of the Velarian night sky that lived on your wrist since was the only evidence of his deal. 

You’d long moved past such a bargain. Rhys had offered to lift it half a dozen times in your first hundred years within his court, but you hadn’t minded. A reminder, you’d insisted, a mark of your loyalty to the family that didn’t lead you the wolves with such glee. 

You’d settled into a routine in Velaris, training with the Illyrian brothers and charming Amren with your intelligence and wit.  But you’d become the closest with Mor, who felt a kinship in your shared traumas. She’d soothed you in those first years, fiercely protecting her friend when Eris Vanserra had shown up in Hewn City as an emissary to inquire on your new position in the Night Court. It was that same night that Azriel realized how fucked he truly was.

Eris smirked at you and your back straightened, face growing cold. He spoke, “My brother was wondering where you’d scampered off to.” A laugh followed, “You couldn’t stomach our court, but found yourself bound to the Court of Nightmares? My my, what a wicked turn of events.” 

Rhysand had spoken then, wearing his High Lord mask well, “Watch yourself, Eris. You know not what our Little One can do.” Eris laughed, the sound laced with the dark spark of a threat. “Little One? Fugitive and Night Court whore, I must tell your father. I’m sure he’ll be proud to hear of his daughter’s fate.” Azriel’s wings pricked, then fluttered, he would’ve killed Eris right then for you. Your hand came to rest on Rhys’ arm as you stepped around the throne to level your accuser with a look that should’ve turned him to stone. 

“I am no male’s whore and I belong to no court except Night. Report what you wish to my father, to your father, your brother. May you all rot.” You’d spat at his feet then, and the room heated twenty degrees, Eris’ barely kept rage simmering under the surface, fire blooming on the fringes of his figure. 

He stepped forward and Cassian, Azriel, and Mor all shifted, prepared to take out the threat. Eris’ eyes tracked their figures, gauging the situation. He knew better. Any attack here would mean war on his court and his father have his hide for that. You stepped forward to meet him, knowing he could make no move without endangering his position. You kept your spine straight and narrowed your gaze at him with such contempt he would’ve been impressed at the show had you been anyone else. 

“I will say this once Eris Vanserra,” you held up one long manicured finger, and Azriel traced the action with thinly veiled obsession. “Leave my court or I will be the one to kill you. I’ll rip your spine from your body and I’ll do it with the same glee in which your father,” you’d spat that word, the hatred you held for Beron burning your throat as the words exited your mouth, “killed that male for feeding his family.” You took a step closer, summoning a dagger in your left hand, and rolling it your palm. “Trust that we have no tolerance for your family or your bullshit in these lands.” 

Eris had good enough sense to step back then, peering around your form to where Rhysand sat, legs spread, slouched in the throne, smirking at your display of dominance. Azriel to his right looked on in pure male satisfaction, you were a powerful little thing and he was rather fond of you in that moment. Eris spoke up, “Should I note that the Night Court threatens other Courts for sport?” Cassian and Azriel rolled their eyes in synchronous fashion, but it was Mor that spoke with the dark edge of a threat, “Only ones that deserve such brutality.” Her father, Kier, stood in the gathered crowd and sneered at the tone of her voice.

You’d done the unthinkable then, winnowing behind Eris, grasping the male by his red hair and dragging the dagger to his neck, digging in enough to cause the male’s heart to speed, a line of scarlet leaking from the press of your blade. You could feel the heat in his skin, the flame licked at your hand as you released him with a shove. 

You brandished your dagger as if it was an extension of your hand, the tip of the silver blade glinting with red from the now healing cut at Eris’ throat. “Come for me again and I’ll kill you.” It was then that Azriel noted the slight tremble in the hand at your right side and he wished on some distant star that he could reach out to you, soothe you, tell you that he was proud and you defended yourself and your court beautifully. 

As if his wish was granted, he felt his chest give way to a canyon of emotion, heart stuttering as the bond fluttered and snapped, thrumming with affection for the female standing at the center of the room. He had selfishly allowed himself to hope it would be you, in the dark of the night when he was alone and his shadows whispered to him of your whereabouts. Since he’d met you, he fostered that small romantic notion of soulmates. His most private desire. 

Eris whirled on you with a roar, grabbing your throat with hands of fire. Azriel felt the breath leave him, and he took two then three steps forward before he could think, hazel eyes alight with a fierceness you’d not yet witnessed. Your eyes found his and you held up your hand to halt his movements, the one that had trembled seconds earlier, now steady as a stone. You’d looked at Eris then, raising your chin defiantly, a slow smile overtaking your face as you once again spit at the Autumn male before winnowing back to your place in front of the dais. Rhysand raised to his feet then, taking steps down to meet you. His hand grazed your arm this time and his mind reached out, “Very good, Little One, very good.” 

“As the lady said, Eris, come to my court in search of her again, and she’ll be the one to kill you.” Rhys circled Eris, tracking like prey. “But not before I sanction it for laying your hands on a member of my house.” Rhysand spoke with such quiet cunning, it was no wonder he excelled as High Lord. Eris snarled then before winnowing out of the Hewn City and Azriel quickly set his shadows to following him, ensuring he was actually gone. 

You returned to Mor’s side and the shameless pride that set on your face the rest of the night made Azriel want to kiss you. Gods, he was fucked.. 

You’d flirted with him constantly in the first century you’d been in Velaris. You had laid it on thick too, dragging a long nail up his arm, your mouth sliding into a smirk after one too many drinks at Rita’s. Azriel had always feigned friendly indifference though, a mask he slipped on that was equal parts protection as it was self soothing. His only crack coming in the form of a slight tremble in his pinky as he tried to gather himself to avoid closing the space between you, touching, grasping, feeling.

He’d worn black leather gloves around you in your first few decades with them. His hands always held the most insecurity for him, the silver scars and warped skin a brutal reminder of his childhood. It was after training one day, as you all packed your small bags and threw towels into bins that you’d asked about it. 

“I don’t mean to pry, and feel free to tell me to fuck off, but why the gloves?” You asked quietly leaning against a wall less than ten feet from him. He’d stiffened and breathed tightly, “it helps with the work.” That had always been his excuse, wearing gloves when killing helped reduce the touch memories associated with the act, and it was partially true. But he wasn’t on a mission right now, and you called him on that, “are you spying right now?” Your lips quirked, “should I tell Rhys?” Your words were mirthful, but your eyes held nothing but empathy for the Shadowsinger, sometimes Azriel wondered if that was your Cauldron blessed gift. 

You’d reached down then, rolling up the left leg of your training leathers. You’d resumed your full height and rotated your calf outward for his eyes to survey the damage there. Ragged silver keloid scars marked the skin from your ankle to the soft back of your knee— a knee he’d admittedly fantasized about many nights in a row now. He’d selfishly thought about trailing kisses up your leg, pausing to nip playfully at the soft skin at your knee as he made his way north, up your thigh. He breathed deeply banishing those thoughts as he took in the site of your marred skin. Judging by the heavily keratinized markings, the injury had no doubt been painful when incurred originally. Azriel’s fingers twitched again, wanting to touch your face, hold you as he kissed away your grief. 

“From Beron’s dogs,” you breathed, rolling you shoulders, as if shaking the memory from your mind. “They wouldn’t heal when I was out there,” you clicked your tongue, “granted I was starving,” you sighed, “but that’s a story for another day.” You looked at him then, and he had to steady himself at the emotions pooling in your eyes. 

He’d already planned on killing Beron if the opportunity presented for what had happened with Mor, but for you, he’d make it hurt. He’d drag it out and make it slow. He’d torture him for days, flaying skin from bone, taking fingers then limbs and when at last he begged for death, Azriel would set the dogs on him and laugh as they tore him apart. He felt a long repressed need for vengeance creep up his spine, and he hated to acknowledge what its presence meant in regards to you.

“It’s okay, you know,” you’d said, head lolling to the side as you watched him, eyes swimming with a gentle affection, “I’ll never judge you for something like that.” Azriel squeezed his eyes shut as he turned his head from you and breathed in tightly. How did always manage to be so fucking disarming and vulnerable? That must’ve been a gift too.

He pinched the middle finger of the right glove and pulled it from his hand, grasping his now exposed fingers into a fist, knuckles cracking. He extended that arm out, palm up as he let you view his deepest insecurity, the thing he hated most in his appearance. 

You’d stepped forward, looking at his palm. Your hands went to reach but you’d paused, looking to his eyes as you silently asked permission to touch. He nodded stiffly, watching you with the same intensity of an animal being hunted, prey ready to bolt at any moment. 

Your fingers touched his hand, and he felt the connection race up his arm and to his chest, settling in his heart. Your eyes studied, and you rotated his hand, fingers gently tracing from his wrist, to knuckle, to fingernail in reverence. You covered his hand with your own, moving your eyes to his hazel ones. “Are they dead?” You’d asked seriously, and he stuttered a shocked laugh. “Yes, Little One, they are,” he answered, a small smile playing at his mouth. The two of you far too similar it seemed. “Good,” you’d said simply before kissing his knuckles and pulling the glove back on for him. The action was quietly intimate, and Azriel should’ve kissed you then. Mother knows he considered it, eyes watching you with rapt attention as his heart sped up and breathing shallowed. 

“If you two are done flirting, lunch is ready,” Cassian announced from the doorway, breaking the spell you were both under. You’d jumped and laughed freely at the large male smirking at the entrance. You grasped Azriel’s hand tightly in affection before releasing it to turn on your heel to exit the room, passing by Cass with an eye roll, thumping him square in the chest.

Cassian looked to his brother as he walked into the room and his face split into a shit eating grin. “Let’s go, loverboy,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. Azriel glared, scoffing as he followed behind you, praying to whatever Gods were listening that he’d get you alone again soon. 

In your second century with the Night Court, you’d lessened the blatant flirting and settled into loving, easy friendship. You regularly attended balls and galas in Hewn City, fitting into such pomp with practiced ease, but always with a dagger strapped to your thigh, ready to cut a male down in seconds. Those events were almost routine at this point: Azriel would save you a dance, and you’d move together in a slow ritual that you’d both perfected over the years, he’d bow as the violinist played their final note and resume his place on dais at Rhys’ right. His eyes would follow you the rest of the night, as you spoke in an airy manner to various high fae, glaring at any male whose hands ventured too close to his mate. 

Nights when the Court held parties at the House of Wind were different though. You were far less rigid, finding it easy to exist without scrutiny. Those were the nights Azriel’s eyes rarely left your form as he watched obsessively from the corners of the room. 

“You’re staring,” Rhys chimed from his place next to Azriel, eyes not leaving the crowd as he spoke to the Shadowsinger, mouth smirking. Azriel was staring. You’d worn cobalt blue tonight, a lovely color on your skin. His color on your skin. Mother above, the male possessiveness that crawled up his spine was unreal. Mate, mate, mate, his shadows had sang in his ear. He wanted to pluck the eyes from every male in the room for even glancing in your direction. He wanted so much more than that too. Your breathy sighs as he marked you, your moan as he made you come undone, his name crying from your lips as he ate his come from your cunt after. Azriel had a million and one scenarios running through his head. He yearned to make each one of them come to fruition too.

He hadn’t answered Rhysand, so the High Lord tried again, “you really should tell her, but please,” Rhys closed his eyes with a grimace, “quiet your thoughts first, for Cauldron’s sake.” That got Azriel’s attention, his back straightening and mental shield slamming down. His eyes squeezed shut, almost as if he was in pain. “I cannot burden her with that now,” he said, “not with war at our doorstep.” Indeed, the second war with Hybern creeped ever closer, disappearances of other high fae occurring daily. Whatever they were planning across the sea, it was going to bring Prythian to its knees. 

Rhysand sighed then, feeling older than his 500 years. “Be that as it may, we should hold those we love tighter.” Rhysand looked to Feyre at that moment, his eyes meeting his mate’s, as he sent a strum of warm affection down the bond. She smiled and returned it cheerily. He turned back to Azriel, “if it all ends tomorrow, I know my love and she knows me. That’s all we can ask for in this immortal life.” Azriel looked back to you, and your eyes were already on him, tracing the shadows that wound around his chest. You met his eyes and winked, before turning back to Mor and laughing freely.  

“I thank the Cauldron daily it was you that found her in those mountains, Rhys.” Azriel spoke quietly, admitting a small secret he’d not told anyone. Rhysand softened, and clapped his friend on the shoulder, “As I am, brother.” Azriel nodded, letting the conversation die between himself and the High Lord as he drained the drink in his hand and moved down the steps in your direction. 

You’d been in conversation with Mor when he approached. She was telling you of the seamstress she’d been seeing, and how happy she was. Azriel cleared his throat from behind the two of you and you turned to meet him, taking in his appearance with wide eyes. “Ladies,” he started, bowing to you and Mor, who snorted at the silly formality. “And that note, I’ll be taking my leave. I’ve got a lady to see,” she said with a wink and a flourish of her red dress. You laughed and shook your head before turning back to the Shadowsinger. He’d caught you staring earlier and your heart had nearly jumped into your throat, before Mor mocked you lightly, diffusing the tension. 

“Hi Az,” you greeted softly, before dropping your empty glass on a passing waiter’s tray and thanking them. Azriel watched you closely, noting the revealed skin that shifted with each movement, committing every angle and freckle to memory.

“You want to get out of here?” He dared ask, jerking his head toward the private balcony on the House of Wind. You raised a brow, Azriel? Asking you to leave? Together? You heart was back in your throat and you thanked the Mother that you’d taken your time getting ready that evening. Nodding, you grasped his arm as he offered it to you like a proper courtier. He walked the two of you up a round of stairs and away from the eyes he’d threatened earlier in the night. Voices dulled the more space you put between yourselves and them and you couldn’t help but start to sweat a bit at the thought of being alone with Azriel. 

You’d been friends for nearly two centuries, but you’d always felt a connection with the male. Your heart thrummed with a warm, golden affection when he got close. It made keeping a clear head during training hard. It made sitting next to him at dinner difficult. And when he’d looked at you like you hung the moon as you danced earlier in the night, it made you want to take him to bed and ride him until he moaned your name. You breathed deeply. ‘Focus,’ you chided yourself, ‘he is your friend, for Cauldron’s sake.’

He led you out onto to the balcony and stopped at the railing before looking up at the star flecked sky. “This is my favorite part of the House,” he said eyes scanning the sky before looking back to you as you watched him. A blush crept up his neck, before he cleared his throat again. 

“I’ve always wondered what it was like to be able to fly, you know,” you said quietly, removing your hand from his arm, rolling up onto your toes, leaning against the stone railing, and looking out on Velaris before scanning your eyes up to the three stars that shone brightly overhead. “When I was a child, I met a Peregryn from the Dawn Court and thought she had the most beautiful wings I’d ever seen.” You chanced a glance his way, “I’d not met an Illyrian yet.” You reminded with a smirk, bumping his arm with fondness. Gods, he was in trouble.

“I asked her what it was like and she said it was the purest sense of freedom possible.” You glanced down at your feet, “I spent the next year wishing for wings.”  He mulled on your words. He wanted to say something cheesy as Cassian would, like ‘I’ll be your wings’ but he couldn’t, so you continued on. 

“When I was a little older, I witnessed a blue skinned lesser fae’s wings ripped from his body as punishment and it was the most gruesome thing I’d seen at that point.” You took a shuddering breath, “I cried for him that night. The lost freedom. How maddening it must’ve been.” You looked at him then and he watched you with furrowed brows. “How does it feel for you?” You asked softly, eyes tracing the shine of his wing. ‘Magnificent things,’ you thought. You remembered seeing his wings for the first time and thinking the Peregryn had finally moved to second place in your mind. 

Azriel had to gather himself as he spoke, “It’s… everything.” He said quietly adjusting his body to extend a wing. “My ability to fly came in late,” he said, and your eyes widened, you hadn’t known that. “My childhood was… rough and I didn’t learn to fly until I was nearly grown.” He laughed, scuffing the toe of his boot, wings folding in behind him. “It was a lot of crash landings those first months.” You snorted, mental image of a younger Az, landing in a puddle of mud crossing your mind. 

“I was never a proud Illyrian, not like the others,” he continued, “it was hard for me to reconcile my heritage and our traditions.” He looked to the cityscape then, “but the stronger I got, the more I understood why flight was so crucial to my people.” He looked to you, eyes shining, “it’s the closest we can get to the stars.” 

You leaned over the railing again, staring wistfully at the night sky, the moon reflecting on your skin. “Will you take me someday? Flying, I mean.” Did you not know Azriel would give you the world? Of course he’d take you flying. He’d give you the moon, the stars, walk through fire and back, anything. He nodded, “you say the word, and I’ll fly you the the ocean and back.” The smile that broke across your face crippled him, his knees threatened to give way. 

“Yours are my favorite,” you murmured softly, eyes glancing from his wings to his face. Azriel blushed in full, pink speckling his neck and cheeks as he laughed. “Don’t let Cass hear you say that, he’s got an ego,” he said, a smile remaining at his lips. You liked him like this the most. Loose, smiling, free. You reached up then, cupping his reddened cheek, thumb stroking. “I don’t care,” you said smiling, “it’s the truth.” Azriel swallowed roughly, staring at your eyes swimming with an emotion he knew, but was much too stubborn and scared to name.

Just as your hand went to retreat, he grasped it between his own. “You can touch them,” he offered, knowing damn well the implications, “if you want,” he added. Your eyes widened. Mor had mentioned once that Illyrian’s wings were ‘sensitive,’ was the word she’d used. It was a sign of great intimacy and trust to allow another to touch them. You felt the air shift between you two then, as you nodded.

He extended a wing toward you. This felt so much like the first time he’d shown you his hands all those years ago. Your hand crept forward and gentle fingers met the red gold membrane that stretched between two metacarpals. Your fingers traced the membrane in smooth circles, then traced up to the crest. Azriel felt his breath gutter out of his mouth in a loud, choppy exhale, and he felt himself harden at the sensation of your fingers against the most sensitive portion of his wings. You gasped and jerked away at the sudden noise, before apologizing. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have gotten carried away.” 

Azriel shook his head, “It’s not that, they’re sensitive.” There was that word again, only it made you think of how they’d been shredded before the King of Hybern, and you opened your mouth to apologize again, but he stopped you short. “I haven’t allowed another to touch them freely since my mother.” The admission floored you, your gut giving way with a breath.

You looked to his eyes then, the air between you had shifted again and you knew this was it. This was the moment you’d waited for, he was going to kiss you. Mother, it felt you’d waited a millennia, and he felt just the same. But that kiss never came. Instead, Azriel went stock still, his eyes now on the House behind you. 

“Azriel?” You questioned. “It’s Rhys,” he said tightly, “he’s summoning me.” You understood then. He looked to you desperately, eyes a little wild and apologetic. “I’m sorry, I have to go to him.” You nodded, you both worked for the High Lord, you’d never get in the way of Azriel’s allegiance to his Court. “Of course,” you said quietly, taking a step back and swallowing down your disappointment. 

Azriel took three steps towards the entrance then stopped. “I’ll take you,” he turned around, backing his way to the arched stone, but keeping his eyes on you for a moment longer. “When I get back, I’ll take you flying,” he offered. Another smile etched its way across your face and Azriel took a long moment to memorize it greedily. “It’s a date,” you said confidently. He beamed then, turning on a heel to pick up into a jog, Rhys no doubt shouting to hurry up. 

That date hadn’t happened though. The second war with Hybern broke out days later and you both barely made it out alive. 

When Feyre had come to Velaris after Amarantha’s defeat, you’d accepted her with easy friendship. You saw Rhysand, your longtime friend, overcome with love for his newly found mate, and you couldn’t help but love her as well. You’d shared your story with her and the two of you bonded deeply over her art. She’d offered to teach you to paint, and you began taking lessons in your off time. Rhys had been Cauldron blessed with her and you reminded him daily. 

Later, when Feyre’s sisters joined their little unit, you’d been the first one to break Nesta’s tough exterior. The female saw parts of herself in you and you’d gotten her to crack a smile when you mocked Rhys’ High Lord voice at dinner one night. Elain had been a tougher sell, but you’d tried, along with Azriel, to bring the female out of her shell. The day she joined you in the library to read, you knew progress had been made, even if you two had only sat in silence a few feet apart, a small smile gracing her features. 

You left her book recommendations with small notes and she began to do the same. Your friendship playing out in the margins of the library’s tomes. You won her over with silent conversation. Nesta noticed, of course, and she looked to you with gratitude as she saw her sister’s eyes brightened and skin began to return to its normal, healthy color. The night Azriel mentioned it as you walked down the hall toward the dining room for the family meal, you’d shrugged. “I met her where she needed me to,” you’d said quietly, glancing to your feet. Azriel smiled, a Cauldron blessed gift indeed. 

Dinners at the House of Wind were by far Azriel’s favorite version of you. You’d laugh with abandon, smile splitting your face, showing every tooth as Mor cracked a joke and leaned against you for support, one too many drinks in her system. The first time he’d seen that smile, it blinded him, and he’d gone a little dazed, staring at you in wonderment. Rhys had interrupted his train of thought with an invasive insertion of “How quickly she reduced you to a puddle, brother.” Azriel had scowled at Rhys then, mental shields firming up, but not before he heard the distinct sound of his High Lord laughing at the Spymaster’s defensiveness. 

Indeed Azriel was gone for you. When Cassian finally confronted him last year about the truth of his feelings, Azriel saw no point to avoid it any longer, not after his brothers had also found their mates. “Our souls are one in the same, she’s my mate,” he’d said pensively, as if he was letting his deepest secret breath in the light for the first time in centuries. Maybe he was. He’d made Cassian promise on his life not to tell anyone, and despite being the biggest gossip in the Inner Circle, he kept his promise. He was thrilled for his brother, knowing you were the perfect match.

Little did Azriel know, everyone else was already more than aware of his affections. Amren had figured it out a century prior when Azriel had tended your needs as you’d recovered from an injury sustained during a mission. He’d fretted around you like a mother hen, buying you flowers, sweets, and books while you were bedridden. The female had watched and hummed with a raised eyebrow as Azriel exited your room for the fifth time in one day, wringing his hands with worry despite Madja’s clean bill of health.

Feyre had figured it out the same year she’d returned from the Spring Court, just before the second war with Hybern. She’d seen the way his eyes had followed you in the war room Rhys had created to host strategy meetings. Saw him lean towards you when you spoke, saw his wings flutter when you finally cast your gaze to him, eager for your attention. More than anything, she’d seen his shadows, desperate little things, sneaking across the floor each night, sidling up your ankles and wrists, begging for your affection. You always laughed and nuzzled them as the wound their way to your hair and Azriel went a little soft at the sight. 

When she told Mor, the blonde had laughed, “They’ve been circling each for two hundred years now, eventually one of them will cave.” Mor leveled a sardonic look at Feyre then, “and when they do, we’ll all have to relocate to the River House for a year lest we be subject to the frenzy.”

This mission should’ve been simple. Rhys had asked you to check out reports of rogue soldiers spotted making their way towards the border of the Night Court from the Day coastline. The intel he’d received had mentioned three to four maximum, all of them drunken ex-Hybern loyalists. It should’ve been a matter of locating them, spying for a day or two, then winnowing in to neutralize any threat. Gods, this was far from simple. 

When you’d arrived in the region, the hairs on your neck rose, the air itself feeling off. As you tracked them, you’d noticed intentional attempts to throw you off course. A carelessly trashed map, crudely laid tracks in the opposite direction, Dawn Court wine bottles that had been emptied and tossed about. They knew you were there, and you quickly realized that a trap had been laid. You backed off them then, staying further than you’d have liked, but trying like hell to make them think you’d given up. 

On your fourth night following them, you’d drifted away to an inn two towns over, desperately seeking a place to bathe and rest, even for a few hours. As you bathed, you felt watched in a way that discomfited you to your core, and your dagger stayed within arms reach the rest of the night. Suddenly, the role you’d played for the last two hundred years had left you entirely ill equipped for whatever was happening here. 

You’d left out before dawn, refusing to lose an ounce of daylight, but as you hit the tree line, readying yourself to winnow out, you’d noticed it. Hanging from a tree, a hundred yards away was a piece of clothing, your clothing. Clothing that should’ve been in the pack at your back. Your breath shuttered out of you as you opened your mind to Rhys, asking for back up. You were in over your head and you knew when to admit it. There was no pride in getting yourself killed. 

As you turned to move back to the inn where you could wait out contact from Rhys in a public location, you were met with a pair of shining blue eyes. You stepped back, keeping your grounding, readying for a fight. “You’ve been following us,” the stranger said calmly, beginning to trek in a slow circle around you. You opened your mind to Rhys again, “Help,” you called. Rhys answered this time, “Where are you?!” It was a frantic response, you never asked for help, Rhys knew this. “Just off the coast, beneath the mountain range, Day court border, 400 hundred paces from the inn” you spoke to Rhys in choppy thoughts, trying to establish a location before all hell broke loose. 

“I have,” you finally answered the stranger, whose lips quirked at your voice. He stopped circling and resumed his stance in front of you, blocking passage to the inn. “Why?” He asked and you tried to keep your mind steady as you answered. “You’re trespassers in these lands” you stated simply, shrugging a shoulder up. He grinned then, “had your lot not gotten in the way of our King’s plans, these would be our lands. We were promised them. I was personally promised the Court of Nightmares.”

“Well,” you shrugged feigning indifference, “that’s not how the war played out, so I will have to ask you to leave,” you offered in your most bored political tone. The same tone you’d used with High Fae that ran off at the mouth in Hewn City. The stranger cocked his head the side then, eyes twinkling, “I don’t think I will.” At that moment, one by one, additional soldiers appeared from the forest line. One, then four, then ten, until near twenty stood around you, looking on with hatred. 

Shit. 

“We’d hoped for the Illyrians, but it seems your High Lord sent us a treat instead,” the stranger said with mirth. You steeled your spine, looking down your nose at the stranger, “They’re going to kill you, you know.” He’d laughed at your threat. “I think not,” he said as as arrow was released from your left, finding purchase in your shoulder. You folded over on yourself at the blow, and looked up baring your teeth, before drawing your dagger and rushing the stranger with a feral sound.

Five more arrows hit you before your blade could find its target. One into your hip, two in your back, a fourth piercing your in your upper thigh, until the last burrowed into the back of your knee, bringing you down in front of him — forcing you to bow to the stranger. The arrows were laced with faebane you realized as you’d begun to feel its effects in your blood. Your power waning quickly, thoughts becoming murky. 

You released another shattered thought to Rhys then, “Tell him, please,” you begged raggedly. Rhysand came back with a rushed and tight, “Hold on, Little One, we’re coming.” You shook your head, there wasn’t time. “Tell Azriel I love him if I don’t make it, Rhys, promise me.” He responded but it muddled out, sounding like words shouted through a pool of water, then your brain fell quiet. The line severed. 

The stranger lifted your head, hand wrapped around your throat, as he bent to meet your crouched form. “I’ll be sure to savor this,” he smiled and the hilt of his sword came in fierce contact with your forehead. 

It was the early morning on your fifth day away when Rhys heard you. “Help,” it had come through so clearly that it startled Rhys awake and set his heart to racing. You’d only asked for help once, during the war when you were overrun and near death. You were in danger.

He’d sat up straight in bed, Feyre still sleeping silently at his side, hand resting on her pregnant stomach. “Where are you?!” He’d asked down the line, a little frantic, remembering the state he and Azriel had found you in last time. Gods, you’d been run through on a Hybern soldier’s sword, the damage was astronomical. Azriel had nearly killed everyone within a mile radius at the sight of you.

You recited your location in short bursts and Rhys focused on the bond of your bargain, using it to locate you with more precision. He reached out to Azriel then, “Get Cassian and meet me downstairs. Be ready to fly.” Azriel responded an affirmative and Rhys rushed around his room, grabbing his dagger lined belt, and using his magic to dress in his leathers quickly. He winnowed to the base of the stairs and was glad to find Cassian and Azriel waiting. 

“Tell him, please” you begged into Rhys’ mind then, words growing ragged. Rhys’ eyes slammed shut with a wince and he attempted to reassure you, “Hold on, Little One, we’re coming.” Rhys opened his eyes and looked to Azriel, who was watching him with anticipation. You responded again, words growing murkier, a little warbled. “Tell Azriel I love him if I don’t make it, Rhys, promise me.” Rhysand felt sick. “We will find you and you will tell him yourself,” he spoke but the bond was dead, silent, foreboding. Rhys thought he might vomit. 

He looked to Azriel again, “It’s her. She’s in trouble. We have to go.” Azriel’s face darkened with a thunderous ferocity. Mother help the males who’d harmed you. “Where?” He asked, voice deep with the threat of murderous violence. “The wilds on the border, off the coast of Day. I’ll winnow us as close as possible.” Azriel nodded his acquiesce and lifted a trembling hand to his hair, running scarred fingers through the strands. Cassian spoke then, “we will get her back,” he’d said softly as Rhysand put his hands to the two of them, preparing for the jump. “And we will kill every last one of them,” Cassian added darkly as blue-black shadows encased them and they disappeared. 

You awoke with a start, gasping like you’d been underwater. Your shoulders ached from your position. You pulled on your hands only to realize you were shackled to a tree somewhere deep in the forest, the same forest you’d been on the outskirts of earlier. You looked up to the sky, trying to find the sun to gauge how much time had passed. The sun had long moved past midday and was sinking towards the evening horizon. Your throat tightened. Where was Rhysand? 

“Nice of you to join us,” a voice spoke. It was the stranger again, he emerged from the camp set two hundred paces to your left, hidden by shrubs and underbrush. You got a good look at him this time. He was tall, leanly muscular in a way that reminded you of Lucien Vanserra. His hair was a dishwater blonde and lacked any sheen, falling in choppy dry waves around his shoulders. His face was gaunt, eyes sunken, bruised with a lack of rest, and his cheekbones were sharp, giving his face an angle that made him look harsh and unforgiving. Though he carried himself with confidence, you noticed a slight, barely there limp in his right leg, an old wound perhaps, one that never healed correctly. You noted that for later, if you ever got out of these shackles. 

You leveled a glare at him that you hoped looked more fearsome than you felt. Mother, your bones ached and your wounds throbbed. “I left the arrows in, but broke off the shaft. Didn’t want to have you healing too quickly.” He spoke with nonchalance, while polishing a dagger, your dagger, you realized as your eyes focused. You pulled at the shackles above your head, and the stranger chuckled at your attempt. 

“What do you want?” Your voice croaked, mouth dry from disuse. The stranger laughed, pointing the blade at you, “I want my fucking court and you’re the key to getting it.” You shook your head then, “I am nothing.” The words sounded foreign on your tongue, a lie on some level, you knew this, but you would be damned before you gave up your family. The stranger clicked his tongue at your response, shaking his head. 

“Surely you don’t believe that? The High Lord doesn’t trust easily, you’ve been seen with his entourage. The Shadowsinger’s whore.” He squatted a few feet from you, eyes tracing from your tied hands down to your face, pausing at your breasts, before trekking down your stomach, thighs, and calves. He was sizing up how much fight you had left.

Your brain had short circuited though, the Shadowsinger’s whore. Mother above, you’d never even kissed. How long had this male watched you and your family? How had none of you seen it? A bitter laugh wretched from your lungs, “sorry to disappoint, but the Shadowsinger isn’t mine.” No matter how desperately I’ve wished it so, you added silently. 

The stranger grinned then, “if you are truly nothing, then I’ll make this a little sweeter.” He took steps towards you, raising the dagger to rest at your chin, the blade pressing to the underside painfully. “You’re far too pretty to be nothing.” He ran the blade along the column of your throat, resting it against your sternum, between your breasts. You pushed yourself further into the tree, back protesting as the arrows burrowed deeper with the movement. You didn’t like the new angle this interaction had taken and your fight or flight instincts were screaming. 

You attempted to reach out to Rhysand, but the bond was dead silent. Your breathing hitched at the realization that you were truly alone in this. The stranger chuckled, dragging the blade down your chest, slicing the leathers, letting the fabric fall open and reveal your undergarments to his greedy view. Your legs moved to kick, but you realized quickly they too were tied. The blade came to rest at your bare stomach, and the stranger dug it in below the navel, causing blood to pool there. You winced, but made no sound. 

“Ah, I was hoping you’d be louder than that,” the stranger smirked, “I’ll have to try harder.” He backed up then and pulled a whip from his back pocket, unfurling it with a crack. Your eyes widened and you brain went silent, fear overtaking your senses. “There it is,” his smile gleamed with violent delight, “there’s the reaction I was hoping for.” He reared an arm back before cracking the whip in your direction. The leather made contact with your torso, a stinging slice appearing along your rib cage. You jerked, but bit your tongue.

He cracked it again and again until you were bloody, slices in your leathers, festering wounds along your breasts, ribs, and stomach. You’d counted to 25 lashes before your brain gave out and your vision blurred from the pain. You looked up to the sky wearily. The sun was gone and the stars were slowly appearing. You smiled at them, remembering Azriel’s words from that night all those years ago. 

You hoped he’d forgive you for not telling him. You hoped he’d understand your fear in revealing that secret, that the bond had snapped for you during the war. When that Hybern soldier’s sword pierced your armor, running through your body to the hilt, and he’d let out a fearsome bellow from across the field at the sight. You felt it then, the golden strumming taking the form of a fated thread linking you two. You been near death when he and Rhys had found you and the only thing you could do was smile. Such an ironic thing it was to die in the arms of your mate. 

Your head lolled to the side as exhaustion threatened to overtake you. “Azriel,” your thoughts ventured, calling down the bond he didn’t even know existed, “I love you.” Darkness swam in the corners of your vision but you swore you felt his responding tug. The Mother was kind for granting that hallucinative mercy in your final hours. Your body gave out, slumping against the shackles and darkness overwhelmed you. 

Azriel was furious. No, furious wasn’t the word, he was a walking time bomb. You were gone. His mate was missing and he was going to explode. As he’d arrived with Rhys and Cassian to the location you’d given them, he could smell you. His eyes searched frantically around the scene before him until they zeroed in on an item hanging from a branch a few dozen paces out. Cloth of some sort? He approached and could detect your scent on it, realizing quickly it was your clothing. A ripped cotton blouse. His fists clenched and he vaguely heard Rhysand speaking to his left. “They must’ve captured her here.” Rhys crouched down to the ground, two fingers swiping the dirt there, before bringing them eye level to examine sample. “Blood,” he muttered, rubbing the hand on the leg of his pants, “she was injured.” Azriel’s heart thundered, he was going to fucking explode. 

He set his shadows work, surveying the forest with rapid precision. They’d cover more ground this way, an army of three operating like a whole infantry. By the time the sun rose to midday, Azriel was ready to begin screaming. They trekked further into the forest, following a line of smoke that was miles deep, originating at a camp somewhere far into the wilds. His shadows murmured to him of a small band of males there, of you, shackled to a fucking tree, arrows buried in your back. He’d nearly lost the contents of his stomach at the information and set to a run alongside Rhysand and Cassian. 

As the three approached the encampment, the sun was nearing dusk. Rhysand had commanded the halt and strategize. There were roughly twenty-five men, all armed. They couldn’t enter this blindly and infuriated, they would lose if they weren’t careful. Azriel hated admitting he was right, his instincts screaming otherwise. Mate, mate, mate, his heart pounded. 

They backed off to a thousand paces out, close enough that they could hear if the troop vacated the premises. As Rhysand and Cassian spoke quietly, Azriel felt his heart thrum. The golden thread there had pulled him closer to you and he could tell you were still alive. Though Rhys couldn’t reach out through your bargain, Azriel’s bond was still alight and warm, he stroked it with gentle affection. You might not feel it, but Gods he would try. 

As the trio retraced their steps to the camp, stars were just beginning to light overhead and Azriel grasped his daggers tightly, knuckles cracking around the hilt. He was going to kill them. Kill them all brutally for taking you, for touching what was his. When they were within a stones throw from the camp he heard it, heard you. “Azriel,” you whispered into his mind. He went stock still, spine ramrod straight, fingers trembling as they gripped his knives. The golden bond vibrated in his chest, and he felt you reaching out through murky waters, against all odds. “I love you,” you said with a soft exhaustion before your side went dark. Azriel’s breathing guttered and he felt high on mirthroot, sick from fae wine, and enraged to the point of explosion all at once. His blue siphons flared brightly from the surge of power. He closed his eyes and reached out to you through the bond, tugging on the thread connecting your souls. He was coming. He was going to save you. 

Rhysand looked to him then, curiosity swimming in his eyes as he took in the Shadowsinger’s sudden stop. Azriel opened eyes, irises alight with fire and shadow, voice grinding with dark threat, “Let’s go.” Rhys nodded and Cassian drew his knives. 

They moved with brutal efficiency, killing male after male until none remained alive. Some had begged, others shouted and scattered their belongings as they set into a run. His shadows had caught them, twisting around their ankles and dragging them back to meet their fate, daggers slicing throats from ear to ear until blood poured like a prized hunt being slaughtered, the Illryian’s hands grasping and snapping necks like twigs. It was a practiced routine for the three of them, who’d trained since they were teens. 

As they stepped through the shrubs to find you, Cassian gasped and Azriel felt his lungs threaten to collapse at the sight. You’d been shackled to a tree at the wrists and ankles and whipped within an inch your life. Wounds glistened with blood along your thighs, soft stomach, ribs, breasts. There had to be thirty lashes. A knife wound was visible at your exposed navel. Your head hung forward unconscious and Azriel’s heart pounded. He wanted to vomit and his hands shook. 

“She said you’d come,” a voice said, emerging from behind the tree you were bound to. The male held a dagger to your throat. This new stranger had to be the leader of this band of idiots. Azriel’s eyes followed the tip of the blade up his arm to the male’s eyes and a growl escaped him as he bared his teeth. The male laughed, “to think she said she was nothing and yet I have both the Shadowsinger and the Lord of Bloodshed before me to save her.”

Azriel’s mind latched on to that piece of information, turning it over in his head. You’d told this male you were nothing? Did you not know Azriel would do anything for you? You were everything. You were his love, light of his life, keeper of his soul, his mate. How alone you must’ve felt, how scared. Azriel’s eyes narrowed, he was going kill him. 

Rhysand spoke then, emerging from behind the two Illyrian brothers, “And may I ask why you’ve abducted a member of my court?” He was in High Lord mode, tone bored, fingers picking at his sleeve. The Hybern male’s smile gleamed at the introduction, “just who I was hoping to see!” 

“Hybern, the old fool, made a few promises in his last days as King,” the male spoke, digging the blade down to your chest, where it rested over your heart. Azriel stared at the blade, eyes tracing to the the hilt. That was your blade, the one he’d given you when you first arrived in Velaris, the one you wielded against Eris, the one you kept strapped to your thigh. Your own knife had been used against you.

“One of which was that I would inherit these lands after your lot were annihilated.” Azriel wanted to laugh at the male’s words, was he serious? “A dead king cannot honor empty promises,” he ground out eyes shifting to the male’s blue eyes. “A dead and headless king cannot gift you shit,” Azriel spat. The male smiled then, a feline grin growing on his lips. “Precisely Shadowsinger, a dead king cannot give me my due, but this little thing can help.” You’d made a noise then, something akin to a whimper as you came to. Eyes wincing then fluttering open as your irises found Azriel’s immediately, some preternatural magnetism existing between the two of you. Then you looked to Cassian and Rhysand, and your eyes swam with apology.

“She awakens!” The male sang, looking to you. Azriel jumped at the opportunity to send his shadows out while the male’s attention was elsewhere. They traced over the ground to you, circling the tree and working at your binds. He sent two others towards the distracted male. “Who knew the Night Court was so attached to a whore,” the male laughed, “I want my lands,” he fixed Rhysand with a glare, “you can have your plaything back in exchange for my seat, High Lord” he sneered. 

Rhysand looked from you to the stranger to the shadow now creeping ever closer to the male. “You must be mistaken,” Rhys said then and Azriel’s shadows wrapped around the male’s neck and wrist simultaneously, whispering violence for touching their mate, forcing the dagger from his grasp and air from his lungs. Azriel tightened them until they heard bones crack in the male’s arm and choked sounds exit his throat, face reddening as oxygen was cut off. “I do not make deals with dim witted cunts,” Rhysand said darkness beginning to surround him, High Lord voice encroaching, “I do not entertain terrorists and I do not take kindly to threats on my family.” 

‘Finish him,’ Rhysand said darkly into Azriel’s mind and the Shadowsinger moved with lightening precision, dagger find purchase as the male’s neck was sliced open and his right hand was removed from his body. The male’s body toddled forward with a choked gurgling, before falling to the ground, lifeless, blood pooling.

Azriel’s gaze fell to you and he softened. His shadows finished picking the lock of the shackles that held your arms and they clicked open, allowing your body to fall into his. “Azriel,” you breathed, voice weary with exhaustion, “I didn’t— I—“ you stuttered, pulling a shaking hand to his face. You swallowed, tracing his cheek with trembling fingers, “I didn’t think I’d see you again,” you murmured, your watery eyes searching his face, memorizing the details of his visage.

Azriel picked you up in his arms and unfurled his wings protectively. “I will always come for you,” he said vehemently, eyes watching your face with intensity. You smiled, a weepy trembling smile as you nodded. Rhysand reached the Shadowsinger’s side then and your eyes moved to his violet ones, “Hi Little One, I’m so sorry we’re late.” You let out a single watery laugh before wincing as the sudden expansion of your chest burned the wounds littering your chest and back. 

“The arrows,” you gasped, “at my back,” you twisted in Azriel’s hold, “please get them out.” Rhysand leaned down to inspect the wounds. “Faebane,” he surmised, that’s why his connection to you had been severed. “We need to get her to Madja, now.” Azriel nodded, allowing Rhys and Cassian to move closer so the High Lord could winnow them home. 

Landing back at the House of Wind had been chaotic. Rhysand shouted immediately to get every healer available and the dining room table had been lined with a sheet, turning the warm family room into a medical ward. You were laid facedown on the table and Azriel took to your side, scarred hands touching your face, keeping you awake as Madja worked to remove the six arrows burrowed in your body. 

You’d screamed. The sound would haunt Azriel for centuries. You begged to make it stop and Madja had apologized softly as she worked faster to remove them while minimizing damage. “I’ve got you,” Azriel said softly, “eyes on me, alright?” He rubbed the hollow under your eye with a scarred thumb and you opened your eyes to lock on his. “No gloves,” you said, smiling tightly, before wincing as Madja applied local anesthetic to an arrow wound. Azriel smiled, eyes a little watery. “Not with you,” he whispered shaking his head, “never with you.” You smiled at him and the sight set Azriel’s heart to fluttering.

Later, after the arrows had been removed and wounds bandaged, you’d been given a strong herb tonic for pain that set your head swimming as exhaustion overtook you. Azriel carried you his room, laying you gently onto the mattress and covered you with the duvet. He leaned down then, breathing in your scent as he placed a kiss to your forehead, nuzzling his nose to the Winter white hair there. He would tell you. When you awoke, he would bare his soul to you. 

You woke with a groan. Fucking Gods, your body ached with the effort it took to roll over. “Easy,” a voice came from the corner of the room. Your breath gasped out of you as your eyes raced to the figure there. “Azriel,” you breathed. The male smiled warmly at you and stepped forward to rest at the edge of the mattress. You pushed up in the bed, the wound at your shoulder screaming from the exertion. Once in a sitting position, you rested your back on the headboard as you looked at him. “For taking out a small militia, you seemed to be decently uninjured,” you said smiling tightly, memories of the stranger and his whip haunting your mind. He snorted a small laugh, “Yes well,” he looked down then, thumbs fiddling with each other, chest heating, “I had something worth fighting for.” 

He looked back to you and your cheeks had grown pink, a small pleased smile at your lips. “I heard you, you know,” he said softly, turning enough to rest a hand on your thigh, thumb drawing small, soothing circles there. The heat generated in the touch sent a spark to your belly. Oh, you were fucked. “I heard you in my head, through the bond,” he said eyes watching his thumb as it traced on your bare skin hypnotically. 

“You know then?” You whispered, breath skittering out of you. You were scared to death of the trajectory the conversation was taking, your heart preparing for the best and the worst simultaneously. Azriel’s eyes dragged up your form to your face and a smile broke over his lips, one that caused your heart to ignite. Your Mother had once told you the heart was an organ of fire and you’d laughed, never having cause to believe such a statement. You understood now. 

“I—“ Azriel started, before clearing his throat, turning his body to face you in full, a knee pulled up on the mattress, touching yours. “In the whole time I have known you— two centuries, Little One,” he looked at you pointedly, “you have been my dearest friend, my greatest comfort, my confidant, and the person I admire most in this Gods forsaken world.” He breathed deeply, a whoosh exiting his lips as his hand tightened around your thigh. “The times when you were lost to me have been some of the most painful moments I’ve experienced.” 

Your eyes began to water, and you moved a hand to rest atop his own, thumb circling the scarred skin at his wrist. He took a breath then and the air shifted between you, his mouth opening and closing, as if he was gathering his confidence for what he was about to say next. “I have loved for you so long that I’d given up all hope of reciprocation.” The words shattered through you as all air escaped your lungs, guts swooping down as heat alighted there. “I felt the bond the night Eris came for you,” he continued, eyes watching your entwined hands. Your body went still and a startled laugh exited your mouth. Azriel’s eyes flew to yours questioningly. 

“Sorry,” you chuckled again, “I’m just realizing how fucking stupid we’ve been.” You lolled your to the side, watching him with loving eyes. “I’ve been in love with you for almost two centuries, Azriel,” you smiled, “I thought you wouldn’t want me.” Azriel’s eyes widened, his mouth opening and closing in disbelief, two then three times. You thought for a second to compare him to the guppy fish that swam in schools along the banks of the Sidra but refrained. 

He pushed forward then, hands coming to cup your face, pinky and ring fingers resting in the hollow below your ear, thumbs stroking your cheeks. “How could I not? You’re everything,” he whispered, searching your face, conviction showing in his eyes. You couldn’t stop the smile that overtook your mouth as you spoke, “and you’re my mate.” His eyes moved to your lips, glazing before they moved back to your eyes. “As you are mine,” he spoke confidently. 

Your eyes watched each other for a long second, “I really hope you’ll kiss me this time,” your hand trailed up his arm, fingers teasing. “Mother knows I’ve been dreaming of it for far too long.” He surged forward, lips meeting yours and you thought you might float away. You gasped and his tongue moved in, claiming your mouth, your taste with his own. 

He pulled away minutes later, a little breathless, “Sorry to have kept you waiting, my love,” he spoke, resting his forehead to yours with a smile, watching your dazed expression, pink cheeks, as your lips split into a grin. Your hand moved to the front of his button down, fisting in the material there, giving an experimental tug. “Kiss me like that again and I’ll consider forgiving you.” 

The laugh that came out of him was golden, and you pushed yourself to memorize it. Azriel, Lord of Shadows, Spymaster for the Night Court, Rhysand’s right hand and Illyrian warrior was soft for you. He loved you. He was your mate. You’d be giddy about it for the rest of your life. 

Your healing had been slower than you would’ve liked. The faebane had done serious damage but with Madja’s help, the scarring was minimized. The lashes at your front took two weeks to heal, the arrow wounds took three. Three fucking weeks. Meanwhile all you could think about was your mate. He hadn’t left your side in the interim. Helping you take steps, applying the wound creams that Madja had left in small glass pots, keeping you fed, making you laugh, telling you how much he loved you daily. Mother above, you were going to ruin this male. 

You walked into the kitchen at the end of week three, the only evidence of your wounds now in the slight limp of your right leg and twinge in your left shoulder. The marks at your stomach and chest had diminished into barely there, silver scores. Cassian was sitting at the small table in the corner as you entered. “Hi Cass,” you greeted, “seen my mate around this morning?” It was fun calling him that, a small part of your chest swelling with pride each time. 

Cassian smirked, “He’s been…… out.” Your eyes narrowed, he was being evasive. “Out where?” You asked, grabbing an apple and hopping up on the counter to watch the male. He shrugged, “No idea, Little One.” You smirked, “I know where you sleep Cassian,” you started, “is it really wise to lie to me?” Nesta strode into the kitchen, “What’s he done now?” She asked laughing. “Hey! I’ll have you know I’ve done nothing!” The male exclaimed, “She’s interrogating me on the whereabouts of her maaate.” He dragged out the vowel of the last word mockingly. Nesta took her seat next to Cassian and laughed, “Ah, him.” She looked to you then, “he’ll be around to collect you soon.” 

You looked between the two, suspicion dripping from your features as you took another bite from the apple in your palm. “You two are being weird,” you stated. Nesta shrugged, nudging Cassian who smiled at her. “Just wait,” she said softly, “maybe cook yourself a meal.” Cassian’s mouth quirked with a laugh he restrained. “Right, I’m leaving, cause whatever this is,” you waved a hand at them, “is deeply odd.” You hopped off the counter and strolled to the exit.  You heard them laughing softly once you were out of the room, making you roll your eyes at their antics.

You’d gone to the library after leaving the kitchen and found Elain already there. Her eyes moved to you upon your entrance and she closed her book, middle finger marking her spot. “How are you feeling?” She asked softly, eyes surveying your body for lingering damage. You sighed, falling into the sofa across from her. “I’m better,” you said quietly, “the pain is gone, scars are minimal.” You turned your eyes to her, she looked brighter than the last time you’d seen her. “How are you?” You asked in return. She smiled sweetly. “Better,” she echoed you and you wanted to laugh. “I’ve been exchanging letters with Lucien,” she added and your ears perked up.

“That’s great, Elain,” you rest your chin on a closed fist, watching her. She shifted and sat her book to the side, page forgotten. “I want to tell you something,” she said quietly, fingers twiddling with each other. She looked... nervous? “I’m all ears,” you said softly. 

“I had a vision while you were gone,” she started and took a deep breath. “It was so muddled at first, I couldn’t tell who it was, but then I saw you. Your hair was longer, you stood taller, and your belly was round.” The breath left your body in a powerful exhale. She looked to you again, eyes watching yours, “You were pregnant and happy and in love,” she said quietly, as if the words in themselves were fragile. Your hands trembled and you moved them under your thighs, her eyes didn’t miss the action. 

“I couldn’t understand why the Mother would send me a vision like that, I saw Feyre’s pregnancy, but we’re sisters, you know?” You nodded. “Then I realized I recognized the tattooed arm I’d seen wrap around you, knew it was Azriel.” Your eyes watered, and you hiccuped out a small laugh. “I’ve known for a while you two were fated, but the Mother was telling me for certain. I hope you know how happy we are for you.” She finished and moved to sit next you, small hand touching your knee. 

“When they brought you in that night, I thought the Mother had lied to me, that it was a vision of what could have been, that you wouldn’t make it.” You’d never heard Elain speak at length in this way, and you thought you might stop breathing. “I’ve never been happier to see you than when Azriel brought you in to read days later, my sweet friend.” You surged forward, throwing your arms around the female and she returned the gesture warmly. 

You sat back and looked at her then. “Thank you,” you said, voice small, a little watery. She nodded before turning to resume her original spot at the end of the sofa, picking up her book and opening it to the page she’d left off. 

In the hours that followed, you’d returned to the kitchen, grateful to find Cassian and Nesta had left. You took Nesta’s advice, gathering the ingredients to build a small berry tart. It had just gone in the oven when your mate appeared in the doorway.

“Hello love,” he said casually, leaning against the door jamb. You startled, turning on your heel to find him smiling at you. “Where have you been?” You asked walking towards him and running your hands around his midsection in a hug, head resting against his chest. His arm came around your shoulders as he pressed a kiss to your hair, breathing in your scent. “That, my dearest one, is a surprise.” 

You looked up chin resting against his chest, watching his face. “It’d better be good, I baked for you,” you said, smiling softly at the Spymaster. His eyes moved to the oven then and back to you, irises darkening, as his pupils blew a little wide. “You… baked?” He asked disbelieving, “didn’t know you knew how to bake,” he followed up playfully. You gasped and shoved him, “for that, you can starve, have fun finding another mate to bake for you.” He laughed heartily and caught your hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips, eyes swimming with warm affection as he pressed a kiss there. Gods, the action made lust swoop in your stomach, heat spreading. 

“The fool I’d be to turn away such a female,” he said, voice deepening, lips running across your knuckles with each word. “Azriel” you breathed. “Yes?” He offered in return, still smiling, moving your knuckles back and forth against his hot mouth. “Please tell me this surprise involves you bedding me.” A growl creeped out of his throat, the thought of you under him sending lust racing down his spine and to his groin. 

“It might,” he said quietly, lips resuming their exploration, tracking small kisses from your knuckles, to the joint of your thumb, the inside of your wrist where Rhys’ tattoo lingered, up the soft skin of your arm, to your elbow, until he reached the skin of your shoulder. His lips traced over the raised skin there, a small nip above the scar as he traced north to your collarbone. You’d gone to putty in his hands, head rolling to the side to bare your throat. He pressed soft kisses there, pausing at your pulse point to trace the area with his warm tongue, a whimper escaping your mouth. 

“If this is going to become a regular thing, I’ll need you two to relocate to the River House,” a voice came from behind you and you jumped in shock, but your mate, he let out a possessive growl before turning on the intruder. Rhysand laughed airily and folded his arms over his chest. “Easy, brother,” he smiled, causing Azriel to roll his eyes. You blinked a little dazed, and pulled away from the Shadowsinger. “You’re gonna make me burn my fucking tart,” you shoved him with an arm and laughed as you turned to resume your place at the oven. 

Azriel instructed you to dress comfortably and be ready in a hour as he kissed your knuckles one last time and exited the kitchen. Butterflies roamed freely in your stomach at the thought of what he had planned. You’d returned to your quarters after removing the tart from the oven and portioning it into a small travel sized container. You were going to accept the bond, and your nerves were alight with anxious excitement. After you dressed in a lightweight linen dress, you packed a small bag with your remaining creams, and the boxed tart you’d prepared earlier. 

You descended the stairs to find Azriel waiting at the base, his wings standing proudly behind him, shadows skittering around his feet. At the sight of you they raced to meet on the bottom step, running up your legs, around your waist and into your hair. A laugh escaped you as one nuzzled into the space behind your ear. Azriel watched fondly. “They love you,” he said smiling, taking a step to meet you, “ever since the bond snapped, I’ve had the hardest time reining them back from touching you.” 

You reached a hand out to meet his, interlacing your fingers. “They’re cute, but you’re cuter,” you said with gentle affection. A shadow pinched at your waist and Azriel’s cheeks went a little pink as he laughed. 

“Will you tell me what the surprise is?” You asked as he walked you toward the training balcony. “I’m afraid I’m very poorly dressed for training,” you joked. He snorted, “no, we’re not training.” He came to rest at the railing and then turned to you, running a hand up your arm, fingers moving to hold the back of your neck, warm palm heating the skin there, thumb grazing your jawline. “Amongst many things I’ve been terribly late for recently, I realize I owe you a date.” 

Your face went a little puzzled and you looked to his eyes. “A date?” You questioned. He nodded, “I was supposed to take you flying.” Realization dawned on your features and a smile overtook your lips, each tooth shining in the setting sun. “I wanted to kiss you that night too,” you admitted laughing, remembering how desperate you’d been for his touch and attention. He smiled softly, “you have no idea how angry I was with Rhys for calling me away.” Your eyes widened, still in disbelief that this male wanted you return. It seemed both a millennia in the making and still so new and fragile. 

Azriel snuck an arm around your waist and brought you up into the stretch of his firm body. His other hand tracing down your hip, then thigh, to curve under your knees as he picked you up. His wings unfurled and he shot into the air. A shaky laugh startled out of you and you gripped him tighter, your arms winding around his neck. His wings flapped in thunderous bursts, taking you higher, until you could see the entirety of Velaris spread below, the Sidra flowing like a snake through the winding city. Your breath left you in awe. “The Peregryn was right,” you said loud enough for him to hear and he smiled, pressing a kiss to your temple.

The flight was short, but it took you to the rural banks of the Sidra on the outskirts of the city, just before it emptied into the sea. You could see ships sailing into the harbor, moonlight beginning to trickle across the water. This was undeniably special, you thought, no one would see you up here and you felt like this was the edge of the world itself. You turned to Azriel, finding his eyes already watching you. “Thank you,” you said softly, leaning into him, his chin meeting your forehead as you moved your body to rest alongside the length of his. His hand came to rest at the small of your back, pinky stretching to graze the curve of your bottom. Wherever this was going, you were very interested. 

He turned and grasped your hand, pulling you back up the hill and away from the view, towards a field of wildflowers and grasses. There, in the middle, a blanket had been laid out, small candles lit to illuminate the setting. A basket sat in one corner, a bottle of fae wine held within with an assortment of pastries, breads, and cheeses. You realized quickly that your mate, the male you’d loved for damn near two centuries, was courting you. The thought thrilled you. 

He led you to the blanket and motioned for you to sit next him. “I must confess, I never took you for a romantic,” you said looking from the candles, to the basket, and then to him. He was watching you again. He smiled, laughing a bit nervously, “I’m a lot of things,” he said and your eyebrow quirked. “Oh yeah? Like what?” You challenged him and he loved you for it. You made him feel easy to love, you made loving fun and freeing. Azriel had once only thought freedom could be found in fucking and flying, then he’d found you and he knew it was there too. In the smile of your lips, in the thrill of your touch, in the ease of your love. 

“Well,” he started, moving his wings to lean into you, pressing a kiss to your exposed shoulder. The action caused you to shiver. “I’m a spymaster.” You snorted, “no shit.” A laugh rumbled in his chest. “I’m a bit shy as you well know, I’m quite fond of dancing, I’m—” he hummed the last letter, pausing his thoughts and moving his lips up your neck. “I’m in love with you,” he said biting into the flesh at the juncture of your collarbone and throat, cock hardening at the sound that rolled out of your mouth. “I’m going to take you right here, on this blanket, under the stars.” 

You gasped, your hands moved find purchase in the hair at the back of his head, fingers winding through the strands, nails dragging at his scalp. His nose ran the length of your jawline before his lips found yours. He rumbled a small hum the instant his mouth touched your own. At first it was a gentle press, teasing you as he had done today in the kitchen at the House of Wind. The adrenaline racing up your spine made you feel like you might vibrate out of your skin. His hand reached up then, threading broad fingers into your hair as he took the kiss deeper. Tonguing the bottom of your lip until your mouth opened, his tongue stroking your own. Humming with contentment, he tilted your head, deepening the kiss at a new angle that had heat swooping down to your core. 

You brought your left hand to his shoulder, fisting your fingers in the fabric there and pulling him closer. He understood your intention and leaned you back into the blanket, pleasure alighting each nerve as his body pressed into your own. He eased up on your lips and began a slow trek south, pulling the strap of your dress down the curve of your shoulder, leaving a love bite there that had you gasping. He kissed down the bust line of the dress, laving his tongue at the swell of your breast. Your breath was coming in pants and you pressed yourself up on your elbows as he moved further south, fingertips tracing the hem of your dress that had risen to the middle of your thigh. 

He looked back to you and smiled, mischief playing in his eyes as he ran his hands up your thighs, the slow drag pulling the dress with it. “I’ve been thinking about your cunt for centuries,” he said, his lips on your knee, pressing insistently as they moved north. “I’ve been dreaming of making you come on my tongue since I met you.”

Your breath leaves you in one fell swoop as you feel his tongue at the juncture of your hip and thigh. His mouth was insistent at skin there, tonguing the lace of your panties before pulling them down your legs and off entirely. He picked up a foot, placing it to his chest as he traced the long line of your body with hungry eyes. You were panting already, dressed rucked up around your waist, straps fallen down your arms and breasts heaving. His gaze flowed south and landed on your pink cunt, glistening, begging for him. His eyes went back to your face then, and his titled his head to the side, “Will you let me eat your pretty little cunt?” He asked fingertips tracing the scars of your calf with reverence. He brought your foot up, kissing the inside of the ankle, then nosing his way over your scarred calf, suckling at the skin there. “Please,” he added, eyes moving back to yours as his mouth continued his ministrations. 

“Mother above, Azriel,” you breathed and a laughed startled out of you, “you are mouthy.” He chuckled darkly then, nipping at your knee, taking special care to press a gentle kiss at the new scar there. “Is that a no then?” He said softly and your head fell back with a groan, exposing your neck to his view. “As if,” you said, head pulling back up and lolling to the side to rest on your shoulder. “I’ve thought about it too, and if you back out now I will explode.” He laughed again, freely this time, forehead resting on your thigh. 

His eyes find yours again, and he kept them there as he traced his lips north. He nosed the juncture of your cunt and inner thigh, running a tongue along your mound. You gasped and eyes narrowed, watching him with rapt attention. He pressed a kiss to the top of your slit and his hands come up to open you to him, pulling the lips apart and tonguing the collected moisture there. Your head fell back as your elbows gave way, falling flat against the blanket. 

“You taste better than I imagined,” he said before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking. The moan that left you had his hips pushing into the ground to find relief as his cock begged for release. His tongue flicked against your clit as he sucked and hummed. He thought this might become his favorite place in all of Prythian. He thought that every bad thing that had happened in his life seemed insignificant now that he was able to worship freely between your thighs. He traced fingers up and paused to wet them on his tongue, before pushing his middle and ring finger in to the second knuckle, pulling them out and scissoring them back in again. His tongue found your sweet little button for a second time that night and he laved at it, listening to your cries as he pushed you to the brink. Azriel’s life had been a nightmare, but between your thighs, mouth on your cunt, walls fluttering around his fingers, he thought he’d been blessed by the Mother herself. 

Your hips rocked up in time with his fingers and you cried as your gut twisted, the coil there tightening. “Az-“ you gasped. “Azriel,” you went a little whiny on the vowels of his name, and your hand reached down to thread your fingers into his hair, nails scratching and tugging the strands. He hummed, the vibration sending shocks up your spine. “Azriel, baby,” you gasped, coming up on an elbow again, rutting your hips into his face as he took you higher. He didn’t let up, suckling at your cunt, fingers finding the spongy spot on the backside of your clit that made the world go blank “Azriel!” you gasped again, hips stuttering out, “Fuck, fuck— oh.” In seconds you were reaching your peak, hips faltering, thighs twitching, toes curling into the hard planes of his back. 

He pulled his mouth off of you, pressing kisses to your pubic bone as he moved north up your stomach. He eyes were alight with desire, the male was pure want and you were his last meal. He pulled his fingers from your cunt and trailed them up to rest at your neck as he slotted his body between your thighs and kissed you. The hedonism of tasting yourself on his mouth made you wetter, cunt pressing into the hard line of his cock, still restricted in his trousers. He moaned at the contact, mouth leaving yours to rest his head against your chin and gather himself. The sound sent a pleasurable shock directly to your core. You grasped the hand at your throat and brought his fingers up and to your mouth, tongue laving at them before taking them to the knuckle, and pulling back slow, hollowing out your cheeks and sucking, keeping your eyes on his. He bared his teeth the sight and ground his hard cock into you, the friction on your clit making your thighs twitch. 

“My sweet little mate,” he cooed. “Love of my life,” he nosed your cheek, his fingers still in your mouth. “All my dreaming has been put to shame it would seem,” he pulled his fingers from your mouth and replaced them with his tongue, his hands flying to his belt. He growled in struggle and you ventured a laugh. His eyes found yours and his jaw ticked, “keep laughing, sweet girl, I’ll fuck your throat next and you won’t come.” Your eyes went a little wide and a feline grin appeared on your face. “Mouthy indeed,” you said with glee as he finally got the buckle undone and pushed the pants down and off. 

His shirt went next and your fingers traced up his exposed arms to his shoulders. “I’ve seen you shirtless a dozen times, and you still take my breath away,” you said softly, a hand resting on his pectoral. He laughed and went a little pink, before he pushed your dress up your body and over your head, leaving you bare. “I’ve always been impressed by your ability to so disarming,” he said, mouth finding the space above your breast as his hands came to cup them, fingers toying with the nipples. “It’s my favorite thing about you, you see me in a way I can’t even see myself,” he followed up. 

Your eyes watered at the admission and your hands found his face, bringing his mouth back to yours as you kissed him again, tongue entwining with his. Your hands grasped his shoulders, as your leg found his hip and you pushed him over, onto his back. Your hands came to rest on his chest as you settled your weight on his lower abdomen. You could feel his manhood standing to attention, insistent at the curve of your ass and you reached around to grasp it, pushing your chest out for his greedy eyes. Taking him in long strokes, you ran your hand up and down, circling your thumb around the head. His eyes screwed shut as his breathing shallowed. 

“Wanna know a secret, baby?” You offered, rocking your hips in time with your strokes. He whined then, the Lord of Shadows keened a little whine for you that had you ready to come right there. “Last time we hosted a gala, that night before Hybern,” you were panting, “all I could think about was taking you to bed.” His eyes opened and hazel was gone blacked out in pure desire. His hands found your hips and his own began to move in time with you. “I thought about riding you,” you said, twisting your hand in a way that had his breath guttering out of him. “I thought you might love me in the way you looked at me.” His eyes softened and he leaned up, hands tracing up your spine as he pressed kisses to your chest. 

“I loved you that night and every night since,” he said before tonguing a nipple and sucking it into his mouth. “That dress you wore, my color, had me hard for a week.” You laughed then removing your hand from his cock and bringing both to his face, so you could kiss him. His hands slipped to your ass then, palming the cheeks as his tongue moved in tandem with yours. When you moved back from him, a string of salvia still connected you two, you reached up to comb fingers through his hair gently.

“I brought you something,” you said quietly, looking to the corner of the quilt where your bag had dropped ages ago. His brow furrowed, confusion showing in his features. “You don’t have to, but I brought some of that tart. If you want,” you offered the statement nervously, as if there was still a chance for rejection. Azriel’s heart went soft and his brain turned to mush.

“You want to accept it?” He questioned, hands sliding up your back and to your waist. You smiled and looked at him incredulously, “Of course I want to accept it, it feels like I’ve waited a millennia for you.” You’d laughed a bit and that feeling of home raced through him again. Gods, he was fucked. 

You leaned off his lap, pulling the strap of your bag to you and unzipped it. There, packaged in a little glass container, lay a small slice of the berry tart you’d fretted over earlier in the day. “Nesta made some stupid comment about ‘cooking’ when I’d asked where you were,” you laughed in hindsight at the female’s leading words. “She knew because Cassian knew, he helped me with the food and candles,” Azriel murmured pushing your hair up and over your shoulder. 

He pulled the container from your grasp then and opened it before picking the pastry up with his fingers, the same fingers that had been inside you minutes ago. Eyes on yours he took the first bite, your heart thrumming as the golden thread of your bond lit up like the sunrise. His eyes never left yours as he consumed the pastry in four bites, swallowing and pulling his fingers into his mouth at the remaining sweetness there. 

The bond between you two was shining, strong and thrumming with love. ‘Hi,’ you tried, your thoughts reaching out to him. He smiled, laughing freely, and his voice came through clearly, ‘Hi, Little One.’ You choked out a laugh, eyes watering as you leaned forward to kiss him, tasting the berries on his tongue. ‘Can I make love to my mate now?’ He questioned down the bond and you laughed again. His hands were already tracing your hips as you leaned forward, hand reaching underneath to guide him into your cunt. Lowering yourself down, you rocked forward once then twice in order to take him to the hilt. 

Mother above, he was big. His cock was thick and filled you wholly, pushing against your cervix making your eyes flutter in pleasure. You thought of the comment Mor had made about wingspan once decades ago and you heard him laugh, “I’m flattered, truly,” he said playfully, reading your thoughts and nipping at your shoulder.

You rose up again and set to riding him slowly, hips moving in long strokes as his hands traced your ass, pulling at the flesh there in time with your movements. You gave a experimental squeeze of your walls, and he keened a loud moan that had you speeding up your flow. “You keep that up, Little One and I won’t last,” he panted at your throat. “That’s rather the point,” you laughed breathlessly, your own hand moving to cup your breast, the other sliding down to circle your clit. His eyes traced the view greedily, moving down to the point where you connected, watching your cunt take him in full, his cock glistening with your shared wetness. He bared his teeth at the sight, a rumble lighting in his chest. 

Just as your walls began to flutter with your impending orgasm, he grasped you and flipped you to your back, pulling your hands from your body and entwining your fingers with his own on each side of your head. He ground his pelvis in deep and your legs hitched higher around his waist. “Azriel, fucking Gods,” you called out at the switch in angle, the tip of his cock grinding into your cervix. He hummed at your throat, teeth marking you there as his hips pulled out and pushed in, grinding each time he bottomed out into you. His wings flared behind him and you thought you’d never seen a more beautiful sight. 

“You take me so well, my love,” he panted, “you were made for me.” You whined then, cunt fluttering around him as he bottomed out deep and held it there, grinding his pubic bone into your clitoris. The pleasure raced up your spine and you thought you’d never be able to leave this place, might have to keep him inside you forever. He growled, reading your thoughts. “You want me to fuck this cunt forever?” He asked aloud leaning up, pulling his hands from yours. 

You whined at the loss, but the sound died as he pulled your legs up his waist to his shoulders, kissing the scarred calf. He drew his cock out, only to slam back in. “Fuck,” you moaned out, voice going up two octaves. “You want me between your thighs for the rest of my days?” He said again, hips moving faster, your hands moving to your tits as they bounced from the impact. His eyes watched the movement and he bared his teeth again, turning his head to bite into the flesh of your calf. 

“Azriel!” You called out again, pleasure zipped up your spine and you felt your stomach tighten. “Az, baby, I’m so close.” He chuckled darkly. “Be a good girl and come on my cock,” he said as his fingers traced down your leg to find your clit, rubbing the bundle in quick, timed circles. “Az- I-,” you barely got the words out before your orgasm overtook you, a long moan exiting your mouth as your cunt tightened around him, he ground into you and worked you through it, before dropping your legs back to his hips and pistoning deeper.

“My sweet mate,” he gasped at the skin of your throat, mouth tracing up to find yours, hands finding purchase on your thighs as he pulled you open, allowing him dive deeper. “My darling love,” he moaned and his tongue moved with yours, your hips pushing up to meet his thrusts, walls fluttering against his velvet length with the remnants of your orgasm. 

You ventured your hand up his shoulder to the base of a wing and traced your fingers up the membrane to the bone. His eyes twisted shut, and he keened a low primal whine that had your cunt ready to come again. At the tightening of your walls, he groaned dark and deep, shadows seeping from him, as he pushed in, grinding against the innermost portion of you. His hips pulled out slightly and then pushed back in as his cock kicked, come spurting against your walls. He panted against your throat as his hands released their hold on your thighs and moved up your body before grasping your throat. He moved up to lean over you and his eyes found your own. He gave an experimental thrust of his hips and your eyes widened. Fucking Cauldron, he was still hard. 

He laughed then, nuzzling at your mouth as he nipped at your bottom lip. “I’m giving you five,” his voice was deeper than you’d ever heard it, “and then I’m eating my come from your cunt and fucking you until the sun comes up.” 

You gasped out a laugh as your arms wrapped around his shoulders. ‘They call it frenzy for a reason,’ you thought, kissing along his cheekbone and to his mouth. Gods, you were fucked. 

[bimbobaggins69]

throuple, throuple, toil and trouble

modern steddie x only fans reader

summary: after adjusting to life under the same roof, you and the boys decide to throw a Halloween party. Most of Steve and Eddie’s friends drive in from Hawkins, too excited to meet their friends new girl, they’ve heard so much about. But not everyone comes barring good intentions.

warnings: smut ahead, 18+ mdni, pictures are for aesthetic purposes only(no mention of skin color or hair texture), consented somnophilia, oral sex (m receiving), allusions to frotting, showering together, jealous!steddie, slut shaming, mentions of reader being drugged and sexually assaulted, smoking weed, drinking, fighting, blood, unprotected double v penetration, body worship, cream pie, the boys reminding you who you belong to.

authors note: part two of ‘welcome to the dungeon…’ I hope you enjoy (: as always thank you to @xxhellfiregirlxx & @take-everything-you-can for being the best betas <3

wc: 7.2k

series masterlist

“Mmm, well good fuckin’ mornin’ to me.” Eddie growls, as two of the most beautiful people he’s ever witnessed lay between his hairy, pale legs.

“Yes, suck the tip Stevie, while our princess sucks my balls.” He continues through gritted teeth, “fuck yeah.” He hissed before bringing both hands to rub down his face and through his frizzy, bed hair.

“God, if this is just another wet dream, I’m gonna be pissed.” He chuckles before it turns into a loud whimper caused by the particularly hard suck you gave to his balls while Steve pushed his head down further, bringing Eddie’s cock deeper down his throat.

“Does that feel real enough?” You tease before sliding your tongue across the metalhead's sensitive sack and down to his gooch.

“Oh, someone’s fucking mouthy this morning.” He declares, making Steve giggle with a mouth full of cock.

Eddie tugs at Steve’s luscious locks, pulling him off as a loud pop rings out into the sunlit room, causing the little cock slut to whine, but before you can tease him, the older boy is grabbing a handful of your hair and wrapping it once around his knuckles, pushing you down onto his spit soaked cock.

“Yeah, can’t say anything now, can you baby?” Eddie mocks, making your cunt clench around absolutely nothing.

The groggy boy thrusts his hips harder into your mouth before bringing Steve’s needy lips to his. They kiss and suck at each other as Eddie continues to fuck your deliciously sore throat.

The smacks and moans coming from the head of the bed, egg you on as you twist, suck and gag on Eddie’s painfully hard cock.

“Can Steve come help me?” You beg as you bat your lashes up at your boys, making them break their hot as shit, kiss.

“You want Stevie boy to help you clean up my cum? Is that it?” Eddie knows how much you and Steve love swapping his cum through sloppy kisses, hell Eddie loves it more than both of you combined, so who is he to deny you?

“Get down there with our girl, baby.” He whispers to Steve before bringing him in for one last kiss.

The pretty boy obliges by sliding down and planting himself right beside you.

“Hi.” He whispers sweetly, giving you a quick kiss to your lips before bringing his to one side of Eddie’s shaft, moving up and down in quick but calculated movements.

You shadow him by bringing your lips to the other side, matching his pace and occasionally licking the vein that runs up Eddie’s throbbing cock.

“Oh, fuck yeah.” The older boy mumbles under his breath as his eyes shift from yours to Steve’s. Both of you looking up at him while your mouths move simultaneously along his cock, will have him busting in your mouths in seconds, it’s honest to god his weakness. He feels like a king being worshiped by two beautiful servants. Like the luckiest son of a bitch, alive.

You and Steve rub your tongues together over his tip, spit and precum clinging to both sets of lips that continue their assault on the bright pink, spongy skin.

“Oh fu-uck! Tongues out. Now.” Eddie demands through loud huffs of pleasure. Once both of you have your tongues displayed for the metalhead, warm spurts of cum hit one before he brings his tip to the other, giving his two cum sluts their well deserved treat.

You both hold the cum exactly where it landed, letting Eddie get a good look at his mess before you and the pretty boy begin kissing, swapping loads back and forth, the treat drips down Steve’s chin and you eagerly lick it away before continuing the sloppy share of Eddie’s beloved seed.

It’s been a month and a half since Eddie and Steve have moved in with you, the first two weeks were a mixture of awkward and taut energy as you three adjust to life together. Not to mention the sexual tension between you and the boys, having to hear them some mornings or nights being intimate with each other while you knew you wanted so badly to be a part of it and them wanting you to join but not wanting to come off too strong.

It was a challenge, that is until Steve finally had enough and sat you down their second week of residency, with a very shy but eager Eddie by his side.

“So what did you guys wanna talk about?” Your voice low and your fingers fidgeting with nervousness as you pick up the haphazardly strewn about mail laid out on the kitchen table, stacking it together before shuffling it like a pile of cards.

“Well…” Steve draws out, “to just put everything out on the table…Eddie and I felt something that night, the night we came over and ya know, filmed with you… and we thought we’d just kinda continue whatever it is we had going on, but it just sorta seems like you’ve been pulling away from us.”

He runs a nervous hand through his chestnut locks before continuing “did you not feel it, too?” Eddie and Steve look at you with doe eyes, filled with sadness as they both search your face for answers.

“I did feel something, too…” you begin as you look back and forth between the pretty boy and metalhead, “I just didn’t want to come in between anything or insert myself where I didn’t belong.” You admit, as your anxious fingers continue to fidget, now with your rings.

“Baby,” Eddie starts, giving you that puppy dog look that makes you weak in the knees, the one where he tucks his chin into his chest, looking at you through his long lashes. “Trust me when I say, you belong between us.”

And that’s how your month-long relationship with the boys started. They quit their job at ‘the dungeon’ to make content with you full time.

After you had posted the video to your only fans, your subscribers went crazy for Steve and Eddie, wanting to see more of them with you, along with so many requests for them to make their own; where they could do solo content, which you heavily encouraged.

You and Steve came up with the idea of turning one of the guest rooms into a “sex dungeon” as Eddie called it. Shelves lined with dildos belonging to all three of you; the flesh like one that attached to the strap on you’ve used to fuck Steve with sat front and center, a sex swing; compliments of the boys sat in the corner next to the window lined in black sheer curtains. Ring lights, tripods and any electronic equipment were placed neatly in the spacious walk-in closet and lube, handcuffs, vibrators and butt plugs took up the two drawers in the bed side table.

The other guest room; that was now left vacant, belonged to Eddie and Steve when they first moved in. Now you all share the primary room with discussions of purchasing a bigger bed as Eddie was a stage five clinger in his sleep, he enjoyed being right underneath you or Steve at all times during the night, but you had a feeling a bigger bed wasn't going to change that habit.

Things were perfect, like all levels of the honeymoon phase, perfect. There was only one thing left in your relationship to do, and that was to meet their friends from Hawkins, and for them to meet Michelle. So like the genius you are, you planned to throw a Halloween party with it being mid October, the leaves now beautiful shades of orange, red and browns. It was going to be perfect.

So some cleaning and decorating were in order.

“Fuck.” Eddie huffs, before stretching with a loud yawn. “You both wear me the fuck out.” He chuckles to himself before finding his previously discarded boxer shorts, that were covered in dried up cum from last night's tryst of frotting both boys until they came all over each other's spent cocks and the fabric that Eddie was too impatient to remove all the way.

You and Steve giggle at the metalhead between kisses, you can still taste Eddie on his tongue as you continue devouring his mouth.

“I’m gonna go take a shower, you two have fun.” Eddie smirks down at you both, giving a salacious wink, before sauntering over towards the bathroom.

“Mmm, I get you all to myself?” The pretty boy purrs before kissing down your jaw towards your sweet spot, just under your ear. “I’m gonna fuck you full.” He growls into your ear making you moan and shiver. “I know after sucking cock together your pussy turns into a slip-n-slide.” The honey eyed boy whispers before softly biting at your earlobe.

“Mhm.” You moan back in agreement. “Need it so bad, Stevie.” You gasp as one of Steve’s fingers roughly pinch at your peaked nipple.

“I know you do, baby.” He nods with a mocking pout on his lips. “My little cock slut.” He playfully chides, giving one last tug to your nipple.

“Yeah, you and me both.” You retort, making him laugh into your neck.

“You're not wrong there.” He guffaws, “but, I'm a pussy slut right now.” His response pulls a belly laugh from you as you lay your head on his shoulder. God, you love him.

Wait what?

“Lay back baby, let me show you how much of slut I am for your pretty pussy.”

You and Steve make it down stairs an hour later, all giggles and flirty banter as you both walk into the kitchen, taking in the mess and calculating what needs to be cleaned and where decorations should go.

Eddie went to pick up last minute things for the party, giving you and Steve a sweet kiss while the pretty boy pounded into you from the back. Eddie smiled to himself, shaking his head in complete adoration for the both of you. With anyone else, Eddie would have been an angry, jealous mess; walking out to see the person he’s in love with fucking someone else. But with you, it was different because that love now extended to you, too. You weren't just a random person to them, seeing you and Steve together made him anything but angry. He loved taking a backseat and watching his two lovers, love on each-other. That shit was pure ecstasy, man.

Once all the dishes were washed, floors were swept and mopped and all surfaces were wiped down; you and Steve decide to take a quick shower together before getting straight to decorating.

While you were washing the shampoo out of the pretty boy's signature locks the shower curtain was being ripped open, making you and your boyfriend yelp from sheer terror.

“Jesus Christ.” Eddie says with a snicker, “Is that how you’d protect our girl from an intruder, huh Stevie?” The metalhead jokes as he removes his clothes,

“Oh, I didn't expect anyone to pull a psycho on me today, sorry my guard was down.” Steve sasses as he rolls his eyes.

“Always gotta be on guard, baby.” Eddie responds with, as he steps into the shower leaving you squished between both boys. You couldn't help but to giggle at their banter, you loved it.

“Sorry angel, don’t mean to take up all the room, but I missed you both and I just wanted to be next to you.” The long haired boy confesses as he playfully grabs for yours and Steve's ass. “Two juicy asses, how’d I get so lucky?” He says through gritted teeth, as his eyes glaze over in lust.

“I feel the same way about your cocks.” You admit, bringing both boys in towards you as you share a threeway kiss, all lips and tongues. Both of them moan into it, making you want to say ‘to hell with the party’ and spend all day in bed fucking each others brains out, but you knew that wasn’t an option.

“Come on, we still have so much to do.” You say, delivering swift slaps to both of their behinds, before you're grabbing your towel off the rack and stepping out.

Finally, after all your guys’ hard work, the house is set up for the Halloween party of your dreams.

The front door was lined with pumpkin lanterns, an animatronic ghost face stands tall on your front porch, the fog machines are on and smoking up the walkway, spooky sounds ready to go off when the party goers ring the doorbell.

Once inside, all the light bulbs have been changed to either orange or purple and there’s a walkway of stickers that look like bloody footsteps and splatters leading to the snack table in the dining room. Everywhere you look there’s a bat, spider or pumpkin; even the guest bathroom was decorated in some type of Halloween fashion.

But the snack table was the real star of the show, it sat lined with all of the treats Eddie ran out and picked up; caramel apples, cookies, cupcakes, cake pops, even a s’mores bar.

A cauldron filled with dry ice and jones green apple soda sat in the center as it bubbled and fogged up like a real potion, a spider web tablecloth laid beneath the display and orange lights were intertwined between the trays of sweets.

On the kitchen island lay the appetizers; nachos, mummies in a blanket, a cheese board with a plastic skeleton lying in the middle, and finally the numerous boxes of pizzas you ordered.

Everything was perfect.

How you all got it done between quick make out sessions and groping each other every five minutes was beyond you, but you were proud of the outcome, nonetheless.

When your first guests arrived you were already fitted in your tight shiny black tube dress, matching gloves that went up mid shoulder, a little pointy witch hat, black knee high socks and your black platform Mary Jane’s.

The boys were in their matching black cat costumes which mainly consisted of all black clothes, cat ears, cat collars and their faces painted with whiskers and a snout. They were the cutest little kittens.

Steve answered the door as the spooky Halloween sounds rang out through the house.

“Hey, baby.” Steve called from the front door as you were setting out the black solo cups.

Once you and Steve are standing side by side, Eddie runs downstairs, ready to greet the first guests.

“Baby, this is Robin and her girlfriend Chrissy.” The pretty boy says, beaming with his million dollar smile, as he motions to the two beautiful girls standing in front of you. Robin was Mia Wallace from Pulp fiction while Chrissy was the bride from Kill bill, they looked equally amazing.

“Hi, it’s so nice to meet you.” You say as you go in for a hug. Chrissy gives you a bear hug as if you’ve known eachother forever while Robin gives an awkward side hug that makes you giggle in amusement.

After introductions Steve gives Robin and Chrissy the grand tour, while you get back to setting up the finishing touches.

Throughout the night, new faces continued to show up; you met the hellfire kids, their girlfriends and will’s boyfriend, Eddie’s old bandmates and their girlfriends, some friends of Steve’s from high school and Eddie’s old buddy Rick and a couple of his friends.

For living thirty minutes from Hawkins, it was a pretty good turn out.

You stride into the living room from the kitchen, looking for one of your boyfriends. Finally catching a glimpse of Eddie’s wavy brown locks as he takes a seat on the couch surrounded by familiar faces, blunt in hand and ready to light up before his eyes meet yours. He sends you a smile and a wink before waving you over.

“Hey, pretty girl. Come take a seat.” He says as he pats his lap, gently pulling you down by your arm before you situate yourself on top of him. “Careful there, angel.” Eddie whispers into your ear with a smirk as your bottom slid against his now growing bulge.

As Eddie was sparking up his blunt, too preoccupied for his surroundings, you caught eyes with two boys you had met earlier and were introduced to as Steve’s friends from high school; Billy and Tommy if you remembered correctly. They were eyeing you up and down hungrily from across the room, cocky smirks on their lips as they spoke back and forth, clearly about you.

You looked away as quickly as your eyes found them and when you glanced back over, they were gone.

You let out a heavy exhale of breath you didn’t realize you were holding as your attention went back to the metalhead underneath you.

“What’s on your mind, baby?” Eddie asks as he softly kisses your neck before offering you a hit.

“I’m okay,” you say with double meaning towards Eddie’s question and his offer of the blunt.

“I actually have to pee, I'll be back in a bit.” You announce before Eddie quickly takes your chin in his grip and pecks your lips as he says through each kiss “okay…I’ll…see…you…later.”

You walk to the bathroom quickly, hoping not to be stopped by Steve’s “friends”.

You should’ve told Eddie about the way they were looking at you, but you didn’t want to make a big deal out of something that could potentially be nothing. Maybe they weren’t even looking at you, maybe there was more to it… whatever it was, you didn’t wanna be the thing that came between any boyfriend and his friends.

You make it into the hallway just outside the bathroom when you’re stopped by a rather tipsy Robin.

“Hey,” she cheerfully chirps, “I’ve been meaning to thank you, all night.” She beams but her words of gratitude confuse you.

“Thank me for what?” You ask curiously.

“For making Steve happy, Eddie too…” she says with a bashful smile, “they’ve been through a lot. Steve was pretty torn up over his ex, he wouldn’t move on for years, and was convinced no one else could love him. Then he found Eddie and don’t get me wrong I know he’s so in love with Eddie and they're happy…but now he has two people who will love him and give him what he’s always deserved… so thank you!” She goes in for a hug, this time it’s not an awkward side hug, but the same bear hug Chrissy graced you with, earlier.

“Of course, I intend on always making them both happy.” You admit as your heart flutters at her words.

She nods in satisfaction “I’m gonna go dance with Chrissy, if you want you can totally come and cut in, I’m sure Chrissy would love to dance with someone who actually knows how.” You both chuckle before going separate ways.

You use the bathroom quickly, wash your hands, then give yourself a once over in the mirror before heading back out into the barely lit hallway.

“Hey, I’ve been looking for you.” Steve says sweetly as he hugs you, both hands slide down your back slowly before he grabs at the meat of your ass through your tight dress. “Need you and Ed’s so bad tonight.” He whispers into your ear making a chill run down your spine in anticipation.

“You’ll have us baby.” You whisper back before kissing him deeply. You both moan into it before you pull away or else you’d end up fucking him right in the middle of the hallway.

“Mmm, I’m gonna use the bathroom and I’ll find you back out there, unless you wanna…” Steve nods towards the bathroom with a sly smirk. Fuck, these boys were gonna kill you.

“I think we should wait until everyones gone, get real filthy, ya know?” You purr as your fingers slowly walk up his chest before you boop him on the nose, then turn to leave.

“Fuck.” He exhales, shaking his head in utter disbelief and amusement as he heads into the bathroom to relieve himself of all the jones green apple soda mixed with vodka, he’s been drinking like water.

When you walk back into the party, you instantly find Chrissy and Robin in the middle of the living room dancing to Thriller with a few of the girls that came with Eddie’s band and DND club, they’re all laughing and smiling and the whole thing makes your heart feel so full.

Before you’re able to talk yourself out of the invitation you were given, you walk up to them; Chrissy immediately invites you in as she hooks her arm in yours giving you a bright smile.

“Hey, you.” She cheerfully greets you with. You could tell you and Chrissy were going to be fast friends, which you were thankful for considering making friends was never your strong suit and your one and only friend wasn't able to make the party.

You all dance, laugh and joke together for a long stretch of the night, you really haven't had this much fun and let loose with other girls in a long time.

Amber, who you now know is with Gareth, brought over fireball shots for you all to take.

The crowd cheers when you all smash them back.

You almost immediately make eye contact with Steve and Eddie who are sitting on the couch in perfect view of you after the hot liquid seeps down your throat. They’re smiling at you like love sick fools, making your stomach flutter and heart skip as your cheeks grow hot, making you look down towards your feet as if they've suddenly become more interesting.

But before you have a chance to look back up, your body immediately snaps to the voice in your ear that comes from behind you.

“Hello beautiful.” You tense up as a terrifying chill runs through you.

“Um, hi.” You meekly respond with, as your head turns to find Chrissy and Robin dancing, kissing and smiling no longer paying a lick of attention to you.

You didn't want to be rude and tell Billy to leave you alone so you continued to sway back and forth in front of him while he smiled down at you with the most predatory eyes you've ever encountered.

“This is a cute little party you’ve put together.” He chuckles as his minty breath hits your face before he's moving in closer to you.

“Thanks.” You dryly say to what felt like a condescending comment.

“Aw, you shy princess?” He asks before he’s tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “Actually, I just came over to tell you I'm a big fan...” He reveals, before getting closer to your ear. “A huge fan.” He whispers.

You feel almost stuck to the ground as you make no moves to get away, until you feel a hand being wrapped around your waist.

“Sup Hargrove? You’re a little close to my girl, don’tcha think?” The metalhead says through clenched teeth.

“Oh, my bad Munson. You're right, you're right..” He says as he takes one more head to toe glance at you before turning and walking back to his freckled faced friend.

“I fuckin’ hate that guy.” Eddie growls as he grabs onto you possessively, as if to mark his territory in front of the two creeps.

“Why is he here then?” You ask curiously as you place your arms over Eddie's shoulders, gently grabbing onto the nape of his neck.

“They’re friends with Steve, use to play basketball with him in high school but they don’t really keep in touch anymore so I honestly have no fuckin’ clue.” He scoffs, giving them one more death glare from over your shoulder.

“You both okay?” Robin asks as she now stands beside you with a bubbly and drunk Chrissy.

“Yeah, we're good.” Eddie speaks up as his grip on you tightens. “You wanna come get some pizza with me, baby?” He whispers before placing a tender kiss to your cheek.

“Yeah, let’s go.” You agree as he eagerly grabs at your hand, interlocking your fingers as you both walk into the kitchen on a hunt for the last few pieces.

Most of the night you find yourself in heavy rotation with Eddie, Steve, Robin and Chrissy but occasionally making your rounds to talk to and get to know more of the boys’ friends.

You find yourself in an interesting conversation with Jeff and his girlfriend Lily who want to start an Only fans of their own, asking for tips and the do’s and don'ts of it all.

“Fuck, I want you so bad.” Steve whispers to Eddie through the lewd smack of their lips.

“I know baby boy but we have to wait, okay? Can you be a good boy for me?” Eddie asks, making Steve whine into the kisses he was placing on the older boy's neck, making him chuckle.

“So damn needy, aren’t you?” The metalhead growls as he grips and pulls his boyfriend's hair, immediately removing his lips from his skin.

A voice coming from the garage stops Eddie in his tracks.

“She looks so fucking good tonight.”

“Yeah, but you’ve seen her, she’s all over Steve and Eddie man, she won’t go for it.”

“Fuck that. Trust me she will, she’s a slut, plus I think they’re in an open relationship or some weird shit anyway, they’re sure as shit not serious if they’re all fucking each other. Come on man this is why we came.”

“Hmm, I don't know dude might have to slip something in her drink to guarantee a sure time.” One of them snorts at the sick joke.

“Hey, we’ll do what we gotta do.”

The boys are absolutely sure now that the voices coming from behind the garage door belong to Tommy and Billy.

Eddie is seething, his hands are clenched so tight all the veins in his arms are sure to be popping out as his breathing becomes ragged.

Steve goes from horny to fucking fuming in seconds.

“Hey assholes!” Eddie shouts as he rips open the heavy door making the two idiots freeze in a state of shock.

“Oh fuck.” Tommy says under his breath as he sees the looks on the other boys' faces.

“You thought you were gonna come into our house and fuck our girl?! You two fucks are even dumber than I thought.” The metalhead spits as his ringed finger points at them in a blind rage.

“Hey dude, chill the fuck out!” Billy growls, stepping up into Eddie’s face.

Billy fucking Hargrove, always looking for a fight.

‘Well he came to the right place’ Eddie thinks to himself.

“You both need to get the fuck out of here. Now.” Steve says with so much indignation, if Eddie wasn’t so pissed, it would’ve been sure to make his cock twitch.

“Nah, I think there’s a fine piece of ass in there waiting for me.” Billy snides, pushing both boys out of the way as he takes a step inside.

Before he can, he’s being pulled back by his leather jacket, falling flat on the floor. Eddie immediately straddles the mullet haired boy, hitting him with his fists until his knuckles begin to ache and blood becomes visible from both him and Billy.

Tommy goes to pull Eddie off but Steve is there in a flash, punching Tommy and instantly cracking his nose. Steve’s never been one to fight or win one for that matter, but the anger that came over him at their words and their threats to drug and rape you, made him see red.

You along with the older hellfire boys make your way out into the garage after hearing some of the commotion. When you walk in you’re met with a bloody scene; Eddie’s on top of Billy, his fists flying and his face screwed up in complete rage.

Steve has Tommy by the collar of his shirt holding him up against a wall, the freckled faced boy's wounds match Billy’s as crimson red streams from his nose.

Steve says something through his teeth before he’s letting go and letting the boy drop to his knees.

Gareth and Jeff pull Eddie off, holding him back as he tries to get away and finish off what he started.

“You shitheads need to get the fuck outta here, now! I’m not gonna fucking say it again.” Steve roared, making both boys get up and stumble back to their cars, as they grab at their faces that are now gushing with blood.

You look on in horror, completely confused as to what started the whole brawl.

You go for Eddie first who is still shaking with fury.

“Baby, what happened?” You frantically question as you grab at his leather jacket, trying to calm his shaking form.

He immediately grabs you, tucking you into his chest as his arms close in around your body, tightly squeezing and swaying as if he hadn’t seen you all night. He continues by kissing the top of your head over and over until you look up at him, his eyes glassy and red but now all you can see in them is love, so much love that it almost takes your breath away.

He cups your face, rubbing his thumbs against your cheeks before he’s kissing you, deeply.

Steve comes up from behind you, wrapping his arms around you and Eddie as he lays his head on your shoulder, making you and Eddie break from your kiss.

Steve had been explaining what had happened to Gareth, Grant and Jeff as well as to a wide eyed Robin who walked in at the tail end of the confrontation.

“I think we should tell everyone to leave.” Steve whispers, making you and Eddie nod in agreement.

You all say your goodbyes with lots of hugs and ‘nice to meet yous’ as everyone heads out to their hotels they’d booked around the city.

Robin and Chrissy head up to your guest bedroom, falling asleep almost instantly on the comfortable, fluffy bed.

You take your boyfriend’s into the guest bathroom to clean up their fists while they explain what happened with Tommy and Billy. You were not shocked to say the least and decided to inform them on how you caught the creeps looking at you when you were sitting on Eddie’s lap, more anger filled them as Eddie and Steve agreed they deserved worse than what was given to them.

Finally, while you follow each other upstairs they can’t keep their hands off of you, it’s almost as if it’s primal instinct, like they now have to show you who you belong to. They both tug at your dress exposing your tits while halfway up the stairs. Steve gives your nipples attention until you reach the top where Eddie picks you up bridal style walking you to your shared bedroom as Steve follows behind.

The metalhead throws you onto the bed as both boys eye you with complete, carnal need.

Steve removes your shoes before he’s tugging your dress off the rest of the way, this time they take your knee highs off, wanting you completely naked for them.

Each boy kisses up and down your body, worshiping you as they whisper sweet words of praise into your skin.

“You're so beautiful, baby.” Steve says, before Eddie cuts in with “and you’re all ours.”

Eddie snakes an arm around you, moving you up towards your pillows as if you weigh nothing. He tears your panties off with a loud rip with promises to buy you a new pair as he and Steve lay on either side of you. They kiss your jaw, neck and arms as they each take one of your thighs, rubbing their palms against the meat of them before they're spreading them wider, hooking each foot over their laps so they have easier access to your center.

A shiver runs through you, the parallel in which you felt with Billy is staggering as you realize you will never want anyone, the way you want them.

Both boys bring their wet lips down to your already peaked nipples as they lick and suck at the erect buds, they snake their hands higher between your thighs as they each moan at the wetness that has built up for them and them alone.

Eddie slips two expert fingers into you and hooks them, immediately finding your g-spot, while Steve runs his thumb over your already throbbing clit.

“Holy shit!” You whine in complete and utter pleasure as they both worship and play your body like an instrument.

“Yeah? That feel good, angel?” Eddie mocks, making you moan out louder as both boys’ fingers pick up their pace. The metalhead fucks his into you, as wet squelching could be heard over your wanton screams.

“That’s a good girl, taking everything we give you so good.” Steve praises after popping off of your nipple, that now shines with his spit.

“Just fucking made for us, weren’t you baby?” The long haired boy says while continuing to hit your spot, making your toes curl and your eyes roll back as your peak hits you like a blinding light.

“I’m g-gonna cum, please!” You whine as you throw your head back in complete bliss as both boys attach to each nipple again, their fingers continue to make your spread legs shake.

“That’s it, pretty girl, cum for us. I can feel you squeezing my fingers, just let go.” Eddie whispers

Their unused hands intertwined together behind your head, leaving you all attached to each other.

You’ve never felt so loved, as you let go and give them just what they want.

“Oh fuck!” You shout as you squirm in between them, a gush of fluid wetting their hands up to their wrists as they continue to fuck your through it.

“Fuck, that’s so hot!” Steve moans as he brings his fingers up to your mouth. “Open. Taste yourself.” He demands, you take his appendages that are now dripping in your cum and juices into your mouth, licking and sucking before taking them deep into your throat. Both boys groan as you bob your head, cleaning Steve’s fingers until the only wetness that is left is from your spit.

“That’s right, clean up your mess, dirty girl.” The metalhead growls as he brings his dripping fingers up and shoves them into your mouth after Steve’s removed his. “That’s a good girl.” He coos as he makes you gag, tears immediately fill your eyes as spit seeps out of your mouth and down onto his still reddened and split knuckles.

“Jesus, you’re so perfect, angel.” Eddie mutters as he nuzzles his nose into your jaw before placing more sweet kisses to your skin, a total juxtaposition to how he’s fucking your throat with his fingers.

The other brown eyed boy beside you nips at your ear as his fingers tweak at your sensitive nipples. All of their attention on you is so overwhelming in the best way possible and the fire that they just snuffed out in your lower belly, comes rushing back with a vengeance.

Eddie instantly removes his fingers as he feels you trying to clench your thighs together, that still lay over each boy's clothed lap.

Spit from your mouth dribbles down your chin and onto Steve’s hand that continues to play with your nipples, he roughly rubs the drool off your chin before he’s bringing it back down to your peaked bud, he oh so gently rubs it in with the pad of his index finger, creating goosebumps to form across your body.

The gentle touch to your nipple pulls a whine from between your lips as you grab onto both boys, “I need you.” Is all you can get out, as their hands work your body like their own personal work of art.

“Yeah sweet girl? What do you need, hm? tell daddy.” Eddie mocks with a fake pout.

Steve smiles into the kisses he’s placing onto your neck, at the use of Eddie’s title. There was once upon a time where that was his name for the metalhead but now it belongs to both of you, and fuck, If that's not an instant realization that he loves you and wants to share the other love of his life with you forever, then he doesn't know what is. It's almost as if there is no them, without you. Not anymore.

“Fuck, I love you so much.” Steve mutters to you, making you and Eddie stop, as both of your heads instantly snap towards him. Your wide eyed expression makes the pretty boy want to bury his head in the pillows in complete embarrassment. The metalhead’s stoic expression isn't helping.

“I-I love you too, both of you.” You admit, as your eyes switch from one boyfriend to the other.

Steve exhales a deep breath as Eddie’s face splits into a beaming smile.

“I love both of you, too. I think an unhealthy amount if I'm being honest.” The older boy jokes, but you and Steve both know there's so much truth behind his words.

“I need to feel you both, right now.” Steve whines, and as much as he’d love to have his boyfriend fuck him, what he really needs is to feel you, as his and Eddie’s cocks rub together.

“My two little needy, sluts.” The metalhead chides, before he’s up on his knees in an instant, pushing Steve down on his back and ripping off his clothes before he’s lifting you by your hips and placing you down on the pretty boy's lower stomach. You gasp in surprise; his strength causes the wetness between your thighs to puddle down on Steve’s happy trail, as he takes Steve’s throbbing cock into his mouth and sucks before he’s taking him deep in his throat and bobbing his head.

Steve sweetly takes your face into his hands, as he brings you closer to his lips, feverishly kissing you as his moans slip into your mouth.

Before you know it, Eddie is popping off of his boyfriend's cock and plunging it into your dripping pussy, making you both groan into the heated kiss.

The long haired boy comes up beside you, watching you both. Steve can no longer keep still, he bucks his hips up into yours causing both of you to moan out louder.

“Does that feel good?” He asks the pretty boy, making him bite his lip and nod with a little “mhm” before he’s fucking up into you even harder.

“Tell her, tell her how good she feels around your cock, Stevie.” Eddie whispers into his neck, sloppy kisses being trailed up to his jaw as the younger boy's eyes are rolling into the back of his head, so much pleasure being given to him, he can barely form the words.

“Y-you f-fuck, you feel so good baby, so good, so good…” he continues to repeat like a prayer as his eyes find yours, watching you as your face contorts in complete contentment.

Eddie’s moving back up onto his knees, not able to take anymore teasing as his cock is rock hard and painfully throbbing from just watching his two loves, making love. He needs to be inside one of you before he explodes.

“Inside her pussy.” Is all Steve says before he’s inching himself in right along the other boy's wet cock.

As much as you all have fucked, they’ve never been in one hole at the same time, well besides your mouth.

“Holy fuck, yes please!” You keen as your hand grasps at the headboard, gripping in such a fashion that your hand begins to ache but you can’t let go, as their cocks move simultaneously inside you.

“Yeah baby, take it.” Eddie growls as his hands cover Steve’s, who’s gripping your hips for dear life.

“I love feeling both of you at the same time. Fuck, it’s too good.” Steve whines before taking your nipple that sways above his head, into his mouth and sucking so hard you cry out, wiggling between them as your hips try to meet their matching thrusts.

“Stay still.” Eddie demands with a harsh slap to your ass, “Let us fuck you, kitten.” He groans as his thrusts get harder, skin slapping echoes out into the dimly lit room.

“Yes, daddy!” You sob as tears begin to form in your eyes at how amazing they feel, how much they’re stretching you out and how the steady fire in your belly begins to ignite deeper and blaze hotter, causing your whole body to shake and your eyes to snap shut.

The familiar build up of fluid can be felt before you're almost being pushed over the edge, about to cum so hard you feel as though you may lose consciousness.

A loud “ahh” is pulled from you as both boys perfectly abuse your g-spot with the tips of their achingly hard cocks. You clench around them so tight, making their sensitive tips rub closer together, bringing even more friction and stimulation.

“Oh fuck yeah, cum for us. Soak our cocks baby, c’mon.” Eddie whimpers, pulling your head back by your chin before he’s spitting into your open, wanton mouth.

You swallow it all down with a content sigh, so fucking close to the precipice of pleasure you can feel it as your toes begin to curl and your now grip on Steve’s shoulders gets tighter.

“Come on, fuck come on, pretty girl. Give it to us, baby. We need it.” The pretty boy groans as he tries to coax your orgasm out, faster.

“Oh, yes! I’m cumming!” You warn before a big splash of liquid drenches both boys, along with your new, red sheets below you.

“Yes, yes, I-Im mmm.” Steve moans as his cock begins to twitch, he paints Eddie's cock and your insides making both boys whimper into your skin.

The metalhead is the last to let go and when he does, he fucks his cum so deep inside you, it brings on one more intense but short orgasm from you. Making you clench again, around their sensitive, overstimulated and softening cocks as more liquid splashes onto their thighs.

The mixture of cum seeps down their shafts and to their balls. Eddie thinks the sight of all three of you mixed together is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, he fights his cock from twitching and coming back to life within seconds of such an intense release.

You and Eddie both fall off of Steve, into your respective places with you in the middle.

Both boys grab onto you and each other as if one of you could disappear into thin air, like losing either of you would be instantaneous.

After everyone's breathing settles and the room becomes quiet, Eddie chirps up. “I love you, both. Forever.” He says before he’s placing his head on your chest, his hand slides over your stomach as he reaches for Steve’s, they intertwine their fingers together before their hands settle on your lower stomach and over the sheet you’re all now laid under.

“I can’t wait to spend forever with my two favorite people.”

•taglist•

@likedovesinthewnd @lil-quinnie @danielabrandt @prettypeachsworld @youare-hackskellington @sebs-oxygen @livsters @wheel-of-hyperfixation @imonhereforareasonsadly @kingdomkitten32 @munson-magic @tiannamortis @katwinchester64 @the-unforgivenn @micheledawn1975 @josephquinnsfreckles @jasminelafleur @emsgoodthinkin @manda-panda-monium @munsonsuccubus @teletubbysteroids @eddies-puppet @munsonssecretblog @eddieslittlewh0re @itsgonnabeoktodsy @randomworker @starrthemushroom @imaautisticchicken @creativename01 @m-chmcl-rmnc @emmerson-1 @siouxiesiouxtryhard @munsonology @pillow-titties @cherryc1nnam0n @wyverntatty @spicedandicedtea @justmeinadaze @violettaskies @bebe07011 @devilinthepalemoonlite @lunatictardis @taintedcigs @aol19 @wheel-of-hyperfixation @m-chmcl-rmnc @sobbingcryingattsizzles @jesuisbenny @munsonsfire @harrypotterzzx @tatianah26

[axellovesalastor]

First time posting smut so hope it goes well 🥲

Alastor Brat Taming

Tags/warnings: Alastor x reader, gender neutral reader, Afab reader, 18+, smut, SLIGHT somnophilia, some bdsm, dry humping

Slightly proofread sorry for any mistakes

Feel free to leave suggestions, comment for part 2!!

After a long day, you found yourself in Alastor’s bed, your body pressed into him and his arm wrapped around you, spooning you. He was softly snoring but you didn’t mind it at all, in fact you found it quite cute. Feeling safe in his embrace, you scooted back to feel his warm body against yours even more. But, you had moved back a little too much and now your ass was pressed in between his hips.

Even with him being soft, you could still tell exactly what you were pressing up against. Feeling playful, you pressed yourself against him a little harder. “What are you doing?” His voice tired, and slightly croaky. His voice was enough to drive you mad.

It seemed like he was still half asleep, so he moved back a little bit, removing his hips from you. You protested, and pressed yourself up against him again, this time slightly harder, enough for him to not be able to ignore. This time you could feel him better than before. In response, he removed his arm from over you, moving his hand on your lower back and pushed you away, then bringing his hand under your jaw, turning your head to face him. He moved closer, almost pressing his face into your neck, locking eyes with you. You could feel his breath ghosting against your neck, almost sending you over the edge. “If you do that again, trust me, I will fuck you until all you can remember is my name.” Biting your lip, you decided that is exactly what you wanted, and did it again. “You promise?”

Within a second, he had swiftly flipped you onto your stomach, and was sitting on your ass. He pinned your arms above your head, holding your wrists tight enough to almost think you’d made him mad. “I do not like to be bothered while I’m sleeping. Nor do I like to be teased. Very rude.” Still feeling brave, you retorted a muffled remark into the pillow, “yeah I’m sure you don’t like to be teased, you got rock hard and still are now.” He removed one hand from your wrists, gathering both of them in other. He pushed your head down more into the pillow. “If you’d like to keep breathing, I’d suggest shutting that bratty mouth of yours.” Starting to feel slightly lightheaded, you muffled out a barely intelligible “fine”, and he removed his hand from the back of your head.

Still holding your hands above your head, he took the other hand, and with a sharp claw, dragged a finger along your back, ripping your shirt in two. Slightly disappointed, you whined softly. “Aww, come on Al. I liked that shirt.” He laughed a little and took both hands and started rubbing your sides. “You should’ve thought about that before pissing me off, dear. Keep your hands up there. If you want me to fuck you so bad we are doing it my way.”

Hearing him being so demanding made you melt. You wanted to be witty so bad, catch him off guard with a clever quip, but your body was ready to submit to him fully. “Not so mouthy now, are we?” He started to get up from off of you, and almost embarrassingly quickly, you whined out, “where are you going?” Knowing how badly you wanted him filled him with a primal urge. “I just want to get a better look.” He knelt at the end of the bed and grabbed your thighs, pulling you up and adjusting you to be bent over in front of him. You weren’t wearing pants, so now it was very easy for him to see the wet spot he’d made come out of you. Seeing this made his cock twitch inside his pants, and he let out a soft, breathy groan.

He placed his thumb on your heat, and with a painfully slow stroke, he dragged his finger down your slit, gathering your juices on it and making an outline of your cunt through your underwear. When he reached your clit, you whimpered desperately. That made him hard enough to almost convince himself he’d rip through his pants. He pushed down on your clit, and your sweet noises filled his ears again. His breathing grew louder, and you swore it sounded slightly shaky, too. He pushed down once more, he was using you as his toy and wanted to see how much you could take before you screamed for him to just devour you already.

“Please just fuck me, I can’t take it anymore” he’d swore he’d never heard anything sexier, and with that, you heard him unzip his pants and he grabbed your hips and pulled you toward him, his cock now daring to push inside you, the only thing stopping it being both of your underwear. “I’m trying to keep my composure, but you are making it very difficult.”

He moved his hips in slight, controlled circles, and at this point, you were already losing your sanity, and you were sure he was too. You tried to keep it in, but all you could do was whimper and whine. “Alastor, please, I-I can’t- I’m gonna-“ His body shuddered and his cock was twitching on you. His breathing was becoming unsteady and he was grunting in between breaths. “You’re… you’re soaking on me. How disgusting….” His nails dug into your sides, almost drawing blood. He threw his head back and placed one hand on his sweaty forehead, moving his hair back, continuing to grunt into the air.

He started to hump you harder, pushing you as close to him as possible. You’d never seen him act so animalistic, he was now whining and whimpering along with you. “Fffuck, I-I can’t take it anymore” his eyes were rolling into the back of his head, his mouth now covered by his hand to try to not be so loud, his words now muffled. “Pound me before I lose my mind”, you yelped.

He removed his hand from his mouth and placed it on yours, already knowing you’d be screaming the second he entered you. Without wasting another second, he ripped a hole in your underwear and one in his, and with one sharp thrust, he was all the way in you. He fucked you at a brutal pace, and he was either cursing or moaning under his breath with each thrust into your wetness. The familiar feeling pooled down in your stomach, and with only one more thrust, the rubber band snapped. You were screaming for him to fuck you faster under your breath, knowing it probably wasn’t even possible.

It had already been a minute and it was clear he had no intention of slowing down, even with sweat dripping all the way down both of your bodies. He laughed a little, with nothing but lust in his voice. “Brazen brats get fucked ruthlessly into the mattress. Be sure to remember that next time you act up again.” His voice sent you over the edge again and you clenched down hard around his dick, both of you letting out a moan. His thighs were slapping against your ass so hard you were bound to be left with bruises. “I had a goal…” you moaned in between your sentence. “…and I knew how to achieve it,” you said into his hand.

He struck your already sore ass, and you yelped out in pain. He did it again, this time a little harder, earning another yelp followed by a soft sob from you. All the while, he was still fucking you at the same pace. You were already exhausted, you had cum multiple times and now he was about to break you. “Beg for me to stop.” He slapped the tender spot again. “Please stop!” You were a whining, sweaty, crying mess. “And why do you want me to stop?” He spanked you again, and you bit down on his fingers. “Fffffuck, because it hurts…. So bad.” You were barely able to catch your breath at this point. He laughed and put his hand in your hair, pulling your head backwards.

“Now, beg for me to cum in you.” His breathing and grunting were now completely out of his control. “It sounds like you’re going to even if I don’t.” He slowed down a little and you felt him start to slide out, the feeling of being full of him now leaving. “I’m sorry! Please don’t stop, cum in me Alastor, please… cum in me… over and over again. Fill me.” Like he had done before, he promptly thrusted inside of you again, and picked up at the same pace he once was. Your hips were now synchronized with his movements, driving him even more insane.

Somehow, he went even faster, and with each thrust, his whimpers and groaning strung out longer each time, and he was clearly about to break himself. Purposely, you clenched around him, and immediately after you felt his warm cum coating your insides and some even spilling out of you. Both of you, completely overwhelmed and in complete ecstasy, didn’t even care anymore and let out noises neither of you even knew were humanly possible.

He finally removed himself from you, and you were slightly less upset at the feeling of being empty again because his cum had filled your entire insides. He sighed heavily, and took a look at the mess both of you had made. “I will be more than happy to fulfill your request of cumming inside of you multiple times,” he took a long exhale before continuing. “…but you may have to allow me a second to recover.” You turned around and crawled over to him, the sight of that alone starting to make him hard again. You wrapped your arms around his small waist and pulled him closer to you, giving him a soft kiss. “Yeah, me too.” You both laughed.

[miniwheat77]

Wet. (Bratty!Reader x Brat Tamer!Price.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, rough sex, unprotected p in v sex, spanking, MINORS DNI! (Sorry if I missed any.)

It started during a mission that you hadn’t come along for. You weren’t feeling good and you were a risk so John told you to stay back.

During this mission, he heard his men talking about you. He heard Soap first.

“Yeah, she’s a mouthy little shit I tell ya.” He hears Soap laugh. They’re trekking through dense forest together, they have been for miles. “She can be. Especially when she first wakes up.” He hears another soldier laughs. “Someone needs to tame her, she chewed me out the other day for letting the coffee pot go off. Little brat fuckin freaked out because she had to microwave it.” He laughs. “She didn’t talk to me for the rest of the day over it.” He hears his men laugh, not being able to help himself as he smiles. You really could be a brat but you were an important part of their team.

He recalls a few times he’s heard you complain but it hadn’t been that bad.

But that leads him to now. You were on his nerves all of the time.

You complained about everything, always threw a fit about what jobs he gave you, tried to pawn them off on everyone else and he was getting sick of it.

He could hear your hurried footsteps coming to his office, knowing exactly what was coming next. “Hey Captain.” You smile. “Oh god. What do you want?” He asks. You narrow your eyes. “Rude. I was just going to ask if it’d be okay if I traded watch with Soap.” You ask. “Did you ask him?” He asks. You shake your head. “Not yet.” He laughs. “You know he’s going to say no Y/N.”

You sigh. “Just.. make him trade with me just this once please?” You whine. “Why?” He asks. “Because I wanted to get a moment of peace before I had to go trade with him.” You sigh. He shakes his head, “have a seat Y/N.” He breathes. You sigh, sitting down with a huff. “I don’t know how on earth someone could be in the military and be as whiny as you, but you’ve really taken me by surprise.” He raises his eyebrows, smiling. He can see he’s already getting under your skin. “I’m not whiny.” You grit your teeth. “Yes you are. You’re always complaining about your chores, complaining about your missions, complaining about the food, about the coffee, about your sheets. I mean really, for someone in the military you’re ridiculous.” You narrow your eyes at him. “I think it’s time I teach you a lesson hm?” He smiles. “Stand up.” He nods. You hesitate for a second, but can see how serious he is. You stand up, crossing your arms. “Stand straight up, don’t cross your arms.” He laughs, shaking his head. You sigh, standing up straight and letting your hands fall to your sides. “Now get on your knees.” You look at him in confusion. “Excuse me?” You stutter. “You heard me. Get on your knees.” He breathes. You hesitate for a second, swallowing hard as you slide down onto your knees. He stands up, making his way around his desk. “Turn toward me.” He breathes, crossing his own arms.

“I need you to understand something, darling.” He smiles. He lifts your chin, forcing you to look at him. He crouches down, his face only a few centimeters from yours. “You listen to me. You obey me. Do you understand? I tell you to do a chore, you do it. I tell you to jump, the only question you need to ask, is how high. Do you understand me?” He seethes. You nod your head, closing your eyes tightly. “Stand up.” He growls, grasping a handful of your hair and forcing you over his desk, a gasp leaving your lips. “I- wait! I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.” You breathe. “I know you won’t do it again. Because I’m going to punish you.” He breathes. He reaches around your front, hearing you gasp as he unbuckles your belt, tugging your pants completely off, leaving you exposed. “I’m sorry.” You whimper. “You will be.” He breathes. You can feel him pressing into your backside, your body going rigid as you feel his bulge pressing into your ass.

What was he going to do?

“Count for me.” He breathes. You nod your head.

His hand clapping against your ass has you jumping forward. A gasp leaving your lips. “I said count.” He breathes. “O-one!” You breathe. “Captain please, I’m sorry.” You pant. Your knuckles are turning white as you clutch his desk. Your body lurches forward as his hand meets your ass again. “Two- ah!” You whine. He’s relentless, his hits are hard and you know you’re going to be sore for days. When you yelp out a “Ten!” You feel his large hands massaging your backside. Tears are streaming down your face. You feel awful and exposed to him. He leans over you, his entire front pressed up again your backside. “I tell you run, you ask how far. Do you understand me?” He seethes. You nod your head, but it’s not enough. Another slap to your ass and you’re crying out. “Yes s-sir! Yes Captain Price!” You cry. “That’s right. Now go wipe your face and trade for watch.” He steps back.

You’re shaking slightly as you step back. “Can.. can I put my pants back on?” You ask. A smile warms his face. “That’s a good girl. Much better.” He crosses his arms. “Yes you may.” He nods. You hurry to pick them up, hurrying even more to put them on. You rush out of his office without another glance.

Running straight into Soap. “Woah! You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He laughs. You smile nervously, trying to hide the embarrassment in your cheeks. “Uh.. no. Just going to trade watch.”

“I thought about it, if you really want to swap watch, I’ll trade with you.” He smiles. Your eyes widen when you hear those familiar footsteps behind you. “Uh.. no. That’s not necessary, I can handle it. See you later.” You shove passed him, hurrying away. He lets out a deep chuckle as you round the corner. “Seemed to work pretty good eh Cap?” Soap smirks at his Captain.

“Yeah, we’ll just have to see for how long.” He chuckles.

You hurry up to the watch tower, seeing Gaz sitting there patiently. “Hey Y/N.” He smiles. “Uh.. hi. You’re good to go.” You mumble. “Wow? With five minutes to spare? What’s gotten into you?” He laughs, standing up. “Just.. ready to get this over with.” You mumble. He nods his head. After saying goodnight, he disappears. You sit down without thinking about it, standing up quickly with a hiss. How dare he put his hands on you like that? Who does he think he is?

Every time you watch the cameras, you get lost in a daze. You can’t shake the way he made you feel. The way his hands felt, the way your skin crawled, and when he had you get on your knees? What the hell was that?

You can’t help it as you adjust in your seat uncomfortably. What the hell was going on?

—

You don’t know what’s gotten into you.

But the feeling of his hands on you, it’s addicting almost. The hits sting for a second but as your skin goes numb, it sends buzzing right up your spine and into your brain. Down your spine and into your core. You can’t help it. “Y/N. Aren’t you supposed to be on watch?” Captain Price asks. You look at him for a little too long before replying, which pisses him off right away. “No, I asked Soap if he’d trade.” Captain Price rolls his eyes. “What did I say about that?”

“He agreed to it.” You shrug. “Y/N. Don’t make me punish you again.” He breathes. You stare at him, emotionless.

You roll your eyes, turning away from him. As you go to take a step away from him, he’s grasping your shirt. “My office. Now.” He growls. You feel excitement flooding through you, knowing what’s about to come next.

It takes a few spankings before he finally clues into what’s going on.

You’re face down on his desk, you’re whining out a “fifteen!” It’s the fourth time this week.

“The fuck has gotten into you huh? You’re only a good girl for all of a couple days after this and than you’re right back to it. Will your ever learn?” He growls, tugging your hair back, you’re forcing back a moan. “Fuck you.” You growl. Another hit, and it’s when he notices it. The slight wiggle of your hips, squirming. His eyes are glancing down, noticing your arousal that’s slipping down your legs. His eyes are going wide.

Everything makes sense when he finally puts it all together.

A deep chuckle leaves his lips, and you know you’re caught.

“You filthy, filthy girl.” He breathes. “No wonder you’ve been such a bad girl lately.” His fingertips running up your thigh, gathering up the arousal that’s seeped out of your sweet pussy. “You fucking like when I spank you.” He seems completely shocked. “Acting like a bad girl on purpose. Getting under my skin. You’re fucking soaked, dripping down your legs for me.” He shakes his head. “This was supposed to be humiliating. Embarrassing enough to get you back to normal. Treating you like you’re a child.” He laughs, shaking his head.

“You’ll be a good girl, I’ll make sure of it.” A mewl leaves your lips when he spanks you again. You can hear rustling but you don’t know what’s going on, not until you feel his tip pressing at your entrance. A gasp leaves your lips when he pushes inside of you, filling you up to the hilt. He tugs on your hair with one hand, wrapping his other around your thigh, rubbing your clit. You cry out, moving your hips back into him. “If you like it so much, why didn’t you just say that, hm?” He chuckles. “Didn’t have to disobey me and piss me off.”

You turn to look at him, your eyes dark and full of lust. “You hit harder when you’re mad.” You breathe. He lets out a laugh, pure shock. He’s taken so off guard by you. “Yeah? You’re a bad fucking girl.” He shakes his head. He clutches your hips, pushing them into the desk until it’s digging into your hips. Hammering his hips into yours. He’s being rough. And it’s perfect. It’s just what you need.

Your legs are weak and shaky, and you’re soaking him. Barely able to hold yourself up.

“You’re a pathetic thing when you’re all worked up and horny.” He smiles. “So fucking wet for me.”

“I’ll be good.” You look back at him, whining out. “I promise I’ll be good, please.” You clench your eyes closed, holding onto his desk. “Please what? Use your words darling.” He breathes. “Please make me cum. Please let me cum Captain Price, I promise I’ll be good.” Your sudden change in tone has him smirking. “That’s the good girl I’m looking for.” He laughs tauntingly. “Look at you, doing so good. And all it took was fucking that attitude right out of you.” You whine out. John can see your arousal building at the base of his cock, and he needs to step back and really pay attention to what’s going on. He didn’t imagine this, not ever. You’re pretty and bratty. Quite a bit younger than him. He figured you’d start going after some of the younger men on base.

He grits his teeth hard when you clench tighter around him, getting closer and closer to your high.

He’s thought wrong, because here you are, bent over his desk. Crying and begging for more of him, begging him to make you cum. He’s tamed the brat inside of you. All it took was his cock.

He reaches around you, wrapping one of his hands around your throat and forcing you up. Your back pressed into him. “You wanna cum?” He breathes. You nod your head, but know it’s not enough, crying out as he starts rubbing your sensitive nub. “Yes Captain. I want to cum so bad, please please please.” You grasp his wrist, holding your hips steady. “You better let this entire base know. I want you to cry for me, I want them to hear what I do to brats on base. You understand?”

“Y-yes sir.” You whine. “Cum for me.” He growls into your ear.

The build of the climax is right there, the coil that’s wound up tight in your stomach from him stimulating you, snaps completely when he says those three words, his deep, scratchy voice is all it takes.

You’re sobbing when you finally cum. Hands gripping his desk, whining out and crying pathetically as he fucks you through your orgasm, your body is shaking and you’ve got tears streaming from your eyes. He grits his teeth. “Turn around.” He breathes. Sliding out of you with a groan. You obey him immediately. “Knees.” He breathes.

He smiles when you drop to them immediately, completely ready for anything you’re about to give him. “Open your mouth. Stick your tongue out.”

You obey him, dark, watery eyes looking up at him. You’re still breathing hard. The tear stains on your face is reeling him in, pushing him right up to the edge as he pumps his cock quickly with his hand. He groans out, hips jerking forward as he reaches his high. You flinch when you feel the thick ropes of his cum coating your tongue and lips. You stay completely still, sensitive nub throbbing at the sight of your Captain in his fucked out state. He takes a deep breath, smiling. Looking down at you.

“Swallow it.” He crosses his arms. He watches you retract your tongue between your lips, swallowing down his cum. Using your thumb to brush the remnants from your lips and sucking it clean. He bites his lip. Using his own thumb to brush some of his filth from your cheek. “Up.” He breathes. He pushes you back into his desk, lifting you up and setting you on it. He pushes his thumb into your mouth, and you suck it clean, pushing your hips up to the edge of his desk. “Awe.. you want more already?” He chuckles. You nod your head. “I’ll give you more. When you’ve earned it.” He smirks. He uses a tissue from his desk to wipe your face. He buttons his jeans but his belt still hangs unbuckled around his waist and he pushes himself between your legs.

“Quit being a brat. I’ll fuck it out of you if you just come find me.” He chuckles. You nod your head, blush rising to your cheeks. He lifts your chin to look at him. “There’s my good girl.” He smiles. Leaning into you, pressing his lips into yours for the first time. You melt into him, kissing him back desperately.

He can tell you didn’t have too much experience, but he was going to show you everything.

“What do you say?”

“Thank you, Captain Price.” You blush, looking up at him.