knock him down a peg
pairing: QZ!Joel x F!Reader x Tess
word count: 4.4k
summary: A follow up to Never Pegged You For A Quitter. After a raid gone wrong, Joel's been acting out. Cue an attitude adjustment. Inspired by this ask! 🩷
content/warnings: threesome, pussy eating, anal fingering, Tess is 'daddy', sub!Joel, fucking with a strap-on, reader is injured, Tess is protective af about reader, Joel nuts a frankly concerning amount, references to fisting, Tess slaps Joel
a/n: uhhhh i've been working on this for MONTHS but i think it's finally ready?? shoutout to my co-writer @ozarkthedog without whom this wouldn't exist -- thank you for letting me scream about all of my horny Tess thoughts, helping me organise my brain, giving me about a million good ideas, and encouraging me the whole way thru, and to @sp00kymulderr for giving me the fic title (did you know you did that?? you did. thank you!!)
The three of you had been planning for weeks; maps spread out across the kitchen table. Packs filled with ammo and food and product. It was an immaculate plan, every variable accounted for.
It still went tits up.
Just that morning, FEDRA had changed patrol routes altogether, so your route out wasn't clear anymore. It was no matter, you'd figured. You could head south, through the old high rises, and hook around.
That's when you discovered why FEDRA changed their routes.
Swarms of infected like you'd never seen them had flooded the buildings, hissing and flailing and scrambling towards you. Tess nearly got bit. And then once you made your drop and collected your payment, you had to go back through again.
Tess and Joel had taken the rear, and you'd gone ahead, ending up face-to-face with a slimy FEDRA lackey who took all of the cards you had on you, half your new product, and still put you in lockup for three days.
All in all, bad.
Arguably better, though, than the noose.
Tess had been waiting for you when you got out and scanned over you as you limped your way out. Your shoulder had been dislocated, but she'd reset it as soon as you were let outside, cussing out the disinterested agents who were watching you, telling you to breathe deep and setting it on two when she made you count to three.
Now, you’re home, sat across from Tess, hissing as she dabbed iodine on the oozing cut beneath your eye. There was a gash on your abdomen that was just shallow enough to avoid the need for stitches. Small miracles. You watched her scan over you, head-to-toe, as if you were hiding some extra life-threatening wound that neither of you knew about yet. Her concern was firm and fierce; never sweet words, but warm hands and a careful touch.
Joel, however, wasn't handling things well. He was pacing back and forth, dangerously quiet. He wore a mean scowl, and his eyes were nearly black with fury. You could see all of his tells; the clench of his jaw, the flash of his eyes, the way his fingers twitched nervously and he refused to make eye contact with you.
The more he paced, the more Tess tensed till suddenly she snapped.
"Sit the fuck down, Joel. You're not helping, pacing like that," she scolded. He practically growled in response.
"It was fuckin' reckless," he spat, "Shouldn't've let her go ahead."
"Her?" you scoff, "We all decided I should go ahead. Someone's gotta do it, and I'm as much a part of this as you are."
He glowered.
"You think you're some kinda savior?” Your shoulder smarts, and the more Joel talks, the more you want to smack him. “Gotta protect me, is that it?"
“You’re more important here,” he argues, punctuating his point by jabbing his finger towards you, “Plottin’ out the routes, trackin’ product, inventory-”
“Joel-” Tess interrupts, “You know as well as I do that she’s been doing this just as long as we have. You wanna know why you weren’t the one going ahead?”
The guard dog reels, as if he didn’t know his place and his role were calculated. As if it weren’t something Tess would ensure.
“You’re talkin’ bout reckless? You’re the one getting reckless, Joel,” Tess hisses.
“It shouldn’ta gone like that-”
“Shit’s gonna go bad, sometimes. But we’re all here. We’re all okay.”
Joel huffs a sigh. “We nearly weren’t.”
Tess ignores him. “And you think being a martyr, putting yourself in danger ahead of us is gonna help us in the long run?”
“If I’d been up front-”
“If you’d been up front, right now we’d be cleaning your oozing face. Maybe you’d have some broken ribs, too.”
“But-”
“Nah. Shut the fuck up, Miller.”
Joel scoffs, nostrils flaring. Shakes his head and rolls his eyes.
The eye roll–that’s the final nail in the coffin.
Tess glowers. “You’d better fix your fuckin’ attitude, Joel, or I’ll fix it for you.”
He grinds his jaw, glaring at you both in turn.
But then Tess sees it; the way he’s starting to get hard in his jeans. You see it too, and you start to notice other things; the flush of his cheeks, his pupils dilated, blown black.
“Oh-,” Tess smirks and turns to you, “Look at that, baby. Looks like he wants a little attitude adjustment.”
You expect him to fire back, make some quip, talk some shit. Instead, he looks ahead. He avoids making eye contact with either of you. A deer in headlights.
“C’mon, Joel.” Tess soothes, stepping forward to rub small circles on his hips, holding and settling him with a surprisingly gentle touch. "Instead of letting you be a stubborn jackass, maybe we oughta fuck some good sense into you.”
Joel doesn’t groan, he just lets out a breath. You do groan.
“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten how to be good for us,” she taunts.
You’ve been on the receiving end of Tess’s mean streak before and it’s embarrassing how immediately it excites you. Whenever you think about it, your stomach flips and you have to actively restrain yourself from rubbing your thighs together. Her voice was then as it is now–gleeful and mocking. She made sure you learned your lesson- you fucked up, so now I gotta teach you how to act right.
The last time you’d seen her like that, the night had ended with your ass on fire, covered in raised handprints. Painful indents of bite marks bruised beautifully up along the insides of your thighs, and you’d come so many times you nearly passed out. These days when you touch yourself, you’re thinking of that; how Tess must’ve been wrist deep, fucking her whole fist into you as she opened her mouth, tongue ready and waiting, grinning when your release splashes her face and drips down her chin, telling you, “Now that’s better, baby.”
Now, fully back in the moment, you’re looking at her and you can see the fire in her eyes. Tess grabs you by the collar, kissing you hard. It’s a dizzying few moments as she licks into your mouth, tongue hot and sweet. You love how she tastes.
When she pulls away, you’re breathless and she’s smirking.
“Take a seat, honey,” she tells you, and pushes you back. You stumble and land in the armchair behind you. Then she turns to Joel. “You,” she fixes him with a stern glare, “No touching. Behave.”
She exits the room. You and Joel are left in silence.
You don’t know exactly what Tess has in mind, but you’ve got a pretty good idea.
Joel watches you, wordless. You can feel the energy, the urgency vibrating out from him, but he says nothing. Barely moves. Tess has him trained well.
You unbutton your jeans and lower your zipper. Shimmy them down your hips, past the swell of your ass, and kick them off.
There’s a sharp intake of breath, and you know Joel’s just noticed you’re not wearing any underwear. You recline back, letting your legs spread. Letting him see every part of you.
The wound on your abdomen is hot, a burning pulse. Your shoulder aches. Your jaw stings. You’re pretty sure your face is a swollen, puffy mess, especially where the gash beneath your eye still weeps, and there are bruises in the shape of handprints all down your arms.
You need to feel good. Not broken or disregarded, and certainly not made to feel inadequate. You’d gotten your ass handed to you. Now, you need to indulge in some of your more hedonistic pleasures. And, you want to torture Joel, just a little.
Hoping Joel’s watching, but refusing to look up to see, you start to trace along your body. Your fingertips brush your lips first, trailing down your chin, your throat, your collarbone. It’s grounding. Assessing. You need to know what will make you feel good and what will cause you pain.
Slowly, you follow down your shirt, taking a moment to pinch your nipples, tracing a path along your belly, and then to the thatch of curls between your thighs.
You hear a restrained breath, and now you know Joel’s watching. You cup your mound, feel your own heat in your hand. You don’t want to go too far, don’t want to really start before Tess is back, but there’s no harm in warming yourself up.
A few minutes later, as you’re stroking your cunt, feeling yourself start to drip, she walks back in.
What a fucking sight to behold. Her own shirt is unbuttoned, harness secured at her waist and thighs, the firm silicone cock hanging heavy between her legs. She’s beautiful, breasts unconstrained by any bra, nipples hard, and legs so toned. She looks at you, your naked self, and her scowl softens.
She turns to Joel. “Now, that’s a good girl, huh? Look at that.”
Joel says nothing, just grunts a vague noise of affirmation.
Tess raises a brow. “Really, Joel?” she admonishes, “You had plenty to say earlier.”
He’s grinding his jaw, has been grinding his jaw for a while. You start to gingerly pull the shirt you’re wearing off and over your head, and Tess leans down to help, taking care to avoid your fucked up shoulder, all your cuts and bruises.
“This is what’s gonna happen,” she tells Joel, “I’m gonna fuck our girl, and you’re gonna watch. If you’re good, then we’ll fuck you, too. Got it?”
Joel grumbles an affirmation, but Tess is sick of his avoidance. She rounds on him, closing the space between them in only a few steps, and slaps him hard on the cheek.
“-The fuck, Tess.” Joel growls, and he’s mad now, “Goddammi-”
She smacks him again. “This isn’t a negotiation, Joel. You can leave if you want,” her eyes glance down to where his cock strains painfully against the fly of his jeans, “But I’m guessing you want to stay here and play with us.”
Finally, Joel looks at her. Directly at her. It’s like staring at the sun.
“Yes,” he admits, “I want to be here.”
“Good boy.”
Now, her attention turns on you. “How’re you feeling, baby?” she asks.
“Better every minute,” you grin up at her, fingers lazily swirling around your clit as you let yourself feel.
“Let me see,” she commands, and you let her spread your legs, opening your thighs wide as she examines your glistening cunt. She nearly gasps when she takes a look. “Oh, baby,” she praises, “Look at you-”, and it’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard.
It feels so vulnerable, having Tess on her knees in front of you, looking at you bare. She breathes in deeply, groaning as her nostrils fill with the smell of you. The vulgar eroticism sends another surge of arousal through you and you’re almost embarrassed at how much it makes you drip.
Gently, she presses an exploratory middle finger against your opening and hisses out a breath when she slips in easily.
She turns her wrist, twisting the digit, letting you feel the width of her fist pressing against your mound. The pressure against you is delicious. It obsessed you, every time you considered it; the way she can make every time feel like the first time. You could never get bored. She’s a force.
You want to taunt her or tease her, rile her up just a little more. You love her rough side. But you know she wouldn’t go for it, the state you’re in, and besides–you’re tired, and the way she’s fingerfucking you feels so goddamn good you can’t even think of a single thing to say.
She goes from stroking your folds and covering you with your own slick, to slipping her ring finger in with her middle. It’s an easy glide, too, and she starts pumping the digits, thumb hard against your clit as she works you open.
“God damn,” she groans, “All beat up and you’re still fuckin’ gushing for me, pretty girl.”
The pressure is overwhelming but you want to endure, need to endure. That doesn’t, however, stop your body from writhing and shaking, and the combination of her words and her ministrations, you know Tess feels how hard you’re clenching around her, feeling yourself get too close, too fast. She winks at you before turning back to Joel.
“C’mon over here,” she beckons him. He obeys, kneeling down beside her. She leans over and narrates. “Look at how she’s taking my fingers. Barely any resistance. Slipped right in, see how wet she is for me?”
Joel hums in acknowledgement, something between a sigh and a growl.
“Good thing she’s this wet already,” she tells Joel, nodding at the strap between her legs, “Otherwise you might have to suck it first-”
His growl turns into something like a whine, desperate and beautiful. You know more than most how much effort he’s putting into not allowing himself to speak. How he must really be desperate to get fucked if he’s restraining himself like this.
“And we know that’s not a punishment for you, don’t we?” She swats him on the cheek, “We all know how much Joel Miller loves suckin’ cock, huh?”
She’s not wrong. His eyes somehow grow darker, and you’re so focused at watching his reactions that you barely even register Tess spreading your legs even further apart till the head of her cock presses against your drooling cunt, and she slides the entire length in, bottoming out in a single smooth thrust.
“JESUS, Tess,” you cry out.
She just grins and holds you by the waist. “Hold on tight baby,” she tells you, “I know you can take all this and then some.”
After a few restrained thrusts, she finds her rhythm and starts fucking you. The initial sensation of being filled starts to wane, and you swear your pussy is a starving entity of its own. It wants and it wants and it wants.
The ache is so good, and she’s deep, too. It’s a perfect balance of pleasure and pressure. With each cant of her hips, you sink further into a blinding euphoria. It’s exactly what you need.
“Taking me so fucking good,” she praises, “Like you were made to take me. Goddamn, baby, you’re dripping like a faucet.”
“Needed this so bad-” you mumble, “Fuck, Tess, I need you-”
“You got me, baby,” she promises, “You got me, I’ll give you anything you need.”
Every word is punctuated by another thrust.
“Tell me what you need, honey.”
“Faster,” you gasp, “Please, Tess, need it faster-”
With a growl, she shifts you, pulls out for a moment and grabs you by the legs. She drags you further down the chair but rests the back of your calves on her shoulder before plunging the strap back in, deeper and rougher than before.
You wince a little, the tender part of your belly stinging, and she notices immediately. Rearranges you, just a little.
When she slides back in, the pain is gone. Only pleasure remains.
“See?” Tess snarls, “She knows how to be good, huh?”
Still holding your legs with one arm, she wraps the other around you and lands a hard smack on your ass, grinning when she feels you gush around her again.
You buck and writhe, and you know you have the stupidest grin plastered across your face.
She makes you dizzy.
“That’s it, baby,” she tells you. “So good, telling me what you need,”
“Fuck–” you rasp, “I’m gonna cum, Tess, please-”
She keeps to the rhythm, letting her fast strokes and the snap of her hips undo you. You’re close, so fucking close, but you can see the way she’s trembling, so focused on you, you don’t think she realises she’s close to the edge too.
Now, the only thing you want is for you both to cum together.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Tess, daddy, cum in me, please–”
A strangled moan leaves her, breathless, and she fucks into you and feels the way you tighten and pulse around the cock, feels the way you drip greedily down her thighs, and that’s enough; Tess comes with you.
As you come back out of the fog, your head is giddy with bliss. You’re tangled up, sweaty, sticky skin pressed together. You hold her close as she runs her hands up and down your back, soothing you. Your breasts are pressed together like a jigsaw puzzle, and the thought is silly, but it’s true.
The strength of your orgasm has knocked you numb, and it takes several moments for your vision and hearing to come back fully. Tess seems to be in the same boat, because it’s at the same time that you both hear it.
Slick squelches. Soft moans.
You both look over at the same time. Tess’s jaw drops. You feel another surge of arousal run through you as you focus on Joel.
“I’m- I’m sorry, honey,” he tells you, “Shouldn’t’a acted like that.”
You barely register his words. Instead, you watch how he’s stripped down near completely, barring his socks. That should make you laugh, but his legs are lewdly spread. With one hand he’s gripping his balls, clearly trying not to touch his drooling cock. With the other, he’s three fingers deep in his asshole, moving desperately. There’s a bottle of lube nearby and you can see its contents dripping down his wrist as he pumps his fingers hard and fast into his aching hole.
Tess looks stuck between telling him off for touching himself, and wholly impressed by his dedication to preparation.
“Well I’ll be damned,” she laughs, incredulous, “Someone’s eager.”
She’s still inside you, and you can feel another rush of your cum drip down the strap. An idea strikes you.
“Fuck him with it,” you tell her, looking down at the thick silicone as she glides out of you, “Fuck him with it, while it’s still dripping with me.”
Tess moves a hand to her breast, pinching and flicking at her own nipple, practically growling at your words. She stares at you for a moment. Then back to Joel.
He’s lost for words, too, it seems. He looks absolutely wrecked. His fingers are still buried deep, but they’re not moving anymore. Focus on the motion is forgotten, he’s just fixed on you both, eyes darting between you, waiting for a decision, any decision, to be made.
“Honey,” she smirks at you, “Why don’t you move over to the head of the bed there, that’s a good girl.”
You get up and scoot back, snorting a laugh as she swats at your ass while you rearrange yourself so your back is against the headboard.
“Spread those legs,” she orders. “Mmm yes, that’s it. My good fucking girl-”
She turns to Joel. “What a nice view, huh?”
Your lips are puffy and used, shining with slick. The room smells like sex, heavy and intoxicating.
“I think you’d better clean up the mess I made of her,” she gestures towards you and Joel doesn’t hesitate. “Hands and knees, Miller.”
He moves from his seat, crawling up the bed, wrapping his hands around your thighs and spreading them further.
The first stroke of his tongue feels like coming home. The hot, wet pass of it is intoxicating, and you’re already so sensitive you don’t need any focus on your clit to feel the build clutch at you again already.
“Good boy,” Tess praises him. He growls into you, the strokes of his tongue growing wider and faster, drinking up every drop of you.
He pulls away for only a moment. “Fuck me, Tess, please-”
“You focus on her and you’ll get what you need,” she promises, “But you’d better move fast, Texas.”
He sighs, but glances up at you. He nods, more weight to it than you’d expect, before he runs another lick up your cunt.
You shudder at the sensation, your legs turning to mush again. His calloused hands scrape against your thighs as he holds them apart, nuzzles at your pussy, dives back in, alternating between licking and sucking.
There are many things that can be said about the man worshiping between your legs, but no one could ever say he eats pussy with anything less than religious devotion.
He nibbles gently in a way that devastates, knocks you back and wears you down. Once you’ve hit one peak it doesn’t take you long to hit the next, and he has you on the edge so damn fast you’d feel embarrassed if you didn’t also feel so fucking good.
“Fuck,-” you breathe, “Fuck, Joel-! Can’t fucking stop coming- Fuuuckkk–!”
He blinks, dark brown eyes gazing up at you as he continues, relentless, barely impeded by the way your body is convulsing from the overwhelm of sensation.
You shudder on his mouth, legs shaking, involuntary whimpers turning into something more like panting whines and moans. You’re pretty sure the entire building can hear you. You really don’t care.
Tess has been watching the whole time, smirking but silent. Now she lines up her still-wet cock against his slick hole.
“Y’ready, Miller?” She asks, and you feel yourself melt at the tenderness of it. You fall in love just a little bit more, every time you see her soft.
He grunts an affirmation. His mouth is still on you but his movements slow and he buries his nose between your folds, nudging at you gently as Tess presses the head of her cock to his slick hole. The most beautiful whine slips out his mouth, reverberating against your cunt. You can feel the way his entire body moves, pressing up into you, as she lets herself loose, thrusting shallowly at first before snapping her hips in longer, deeper strokes.
With one particularly brutal thrust, he knocks forward. The curve of his nose hits against your clit and you come again with a shriek, soaking his face as he takes everything she gives him.
You’re worn out, spent and satisfied. You clutch him by the hair and yank him off of you, and now his moans aren’t muffled anymore.
He keeps his head between your thighs, breathing in your scent as the cum on his face cools and starts to dry. He’s loud, whining and grunting, taking Tess’s cock like it’s his only purpose.
“Fuck, Tessa-” he sobs, the heat of his breath on your used-up cunt. “Feels- so fucking- good.”
“Feels real fuckin good, don’t it?” she echoes, rhythm never ceasing, “Lettin’ your daddy fuck you like this.”
“Uh huh.”
“You wanna be good for me, say thank you?”
“I-” His words come out stilted, punctuated by each thrust. “Yes-”
“Say thank you, Daddy.”
“Thank- Thank- you- daddy-” he chokes.
“Thank you for what?” you prompt, and Tess grins. Joel looks up at you with a flash of something that could be fury or hunger.
“Thank you-” he hisses, “Thank you- daddy- for teaching me a lesson-”
“Good boy,” she soothes, “Say ‘thank you daddy, for teaching me how silly and childish I’ve been.’”
“Thank you daddy,” he echoes, “For teaching me how silly I’ve been. How childish. Ain’t been actin’ right. Not to you honey-” he presses a gentle kiss to the inside of your thigh. Closes his eyes when he speaks to her. “Not to you either, daddy.”
“You feelin good, baby?” she asks him.
He breathes out a shudder. “Feels so fucking good, but–”
“But?”
“Need more. Need to be touched.”
“Poor baby,” Tess pouts, “I’m afraid we can’t do that.”
He whines, but nods.
“But since you’re taking this lil attitude adjustment so well, I suppose we can let you cum. That sound alright to you honey?”
“Sure,” you beam, “He can rub himself up against the mattress if he likes. Cum just like that.”
“Mmm yeah,” Tess agrees, “You able to cum from rutting up against the bed?”
“Yes- yes anything, please-”
“Love it when he begs,” you sigh and Tess hums in affirmation.
She presses him down, keeps her cock in him as she knocks him so he’s flat on the bed, legs splayed, swollen dick rubbing against the covers as she holds him by the hips.
This whole time, she’s kept a steady pace. Not quite brutal, but certainly not leisurely. You see the way his own hips rock as he humps the bed, trying to find an angle that’ll give him the release he needs.
“I’m- fuck, I’m getting close Tessa– Gonna fuckin cum–”
“Good,” she smacks him hard and watches the flesh of his ass shake deliciously from the blow.
The masochist he is, it’s all he needs to tumble over the edge.
He comes with a shout, cum painting the bedsheets and pooling on the fabric, coating his stomach, his cock, his balls. Tess is still inside him, still hitting his prostate with every stroke, and it strengthens his orgasm to a point of almost overwhelming intensity. After a few moments, you’re not sure if he’ll ever stop coming, the amount of it verges on concerning as the pool of cum threatens to trickle over the edge of the bed.
Finally, his orgasm comes to an end, and Tess’s thrusts slow.
They both reel back, panting, Tess pulling out gently and Joel whimpering at the loss of sensation.
“Good boy,” she tells him, unbuckling the harness and letting the strap fall to the floor.
“Fuuuuuckkkkkk-” he sighs, and you giggle. His eyes snap up to you, but he’s laughing too.
He shakes his head and starts to peel himself up from the sticky mess he’s made. “Sorry I’m such a jackass.”
“Eh,” you shrug, “We know you’re a jackass.”
He nods, considering.
“And–” Tess joins in, “We know how to set you straight.”
He snorts.
“Just– I know you were scared out there,” you tell him, and he must’ve been fucked real good because he doesn’t even try to argue. “We’re always gonna have close calls. But we’re in this together, yeah? Don’t shut me out just because you’re afraid.”
He’s silent for a moment. Then nods at you.
“Okay, honey. And- thank you, Tessa. You know how t’ keep me in line.”
“Anytime, Texas,” she grins.
You get up and turn on the shower. The rest of the day, you’ll get clean. You’ll rest. You’ll let your aching bones start their healing. Just over the sound of the shower spray, you hear Tess speaking to Joel; “Now, unless I’m much mistaken, it’s your turn to change the sheets-”
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You don’t get to tell me about sad
Previous chapter
a/n part three! I’m brain dead so sorry for the wait. I hope you will all enjoy this. 🫧🫶🏻
summary: Azriel gets an assignment he can’t seem to decline. Now he has a princess full of attitude under his protection. The only question is whose cold heart will break first.
warning: past trauma, scars, injuries, blood.
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You were sure that your lip was going to burst from the way you kept biting on it, trying to suppress the laugh as the carriage rolled through the misty autumn forest. Convinced that nothing was ever going to top the sight of Azriel, squished the opposite of you. He was scowling so hard that he was most definitely the reason why the sky had ripped open. Pouring rain drowned the lush forest since the early morning. It looked like you were driving to a funeral at best, gruesome execution at best.
“Don’t start with me today," Azriel grunts, his eyes burning into yours. Yet now that he acknowledged you, the smile only seemed to spread wider. He lets out a grunt, and a quiet giggle slips past your lips. "Princess, life suits you," you mumble, making Azriel roll his eyes. “Come on now; it’s not so bad. Don’t huff”, you nudge his leg with your heel, earning yet another glare.
“Could have winnowed us there”, “You did almost all the way”, you point out. And you would have happily obliged, but the murmurs about something being wrong with the high lord’s family had started. So Lucien and Eris had made their outing. If not for the rain, you would have done just the same. Take a walk through the main streets. But now seeing the family carriage and your face through the glass would have to be enough.
“Why do you hate autumn so much?”, It’s a bold statement to make. You’re not sure if he even hates it. Well, considering the amount of frowning he does, he has to. “I have my reasons," Azriel answers as bluntly as he can. “Care to elaborate?", you turn to him, ready to dig an answer out of him if you had to. He owned you, considering his creeping around your room. But your eyes fall on the way he’s trying to subtly rub his palms together. The scarred skin—humidity must be making the bones ache too. He’s impossible to read, but you’re convinced that the discomfort hunts some of his features. You don’t care. You shouldn’t care, yet you still inch closer. There’s not much space inside the carriage considering that man’s size, but it’s enough for you to brush your legs against him. As expected, Azriel’s hands instantly reached to put distance between you both. But that’s when you yank the side of your cloak up, draping the fur-lined material over his scared palms.
“What are you?", "Shhhh," you say quickly. He tries to pull them out, but you catch his gaze—a daring look there. “Know your”, but you cut him off once more, “Next words out of your mouth better be, thank you, princess," you muse. Azriel clenches his jaw. But he doesn’t pull back. Doesn’t fight the warmth slowly seeping through the stiff skin. “I thought you hated that nickname, princess," he says. One thing this man hadn’t learned in life was dealing with women. Clearly. You shrug, “Not so bad when it’s you who calls me that," you muse, watching as a glimpse of surprise washes over his features, and then the scowling coldness returns.
Azriel doesn’t like it here. The thought alone had unsettled him ever since Lucien had announced the need to go back. “The High Lord needs to make a statement," Lucien had stated. Azriel itched to say that Eris wasn’t his high lord. But he knew that regardless of Eris’s wishes, he would have gone. Because you were going there. So here he was, standing outside the forest house. Not daring to go forward alone. You had waved him off. Told him to go inside while you checked on the horses. But he refused to step inside. So he stood there, trying to memorize every window.
“Who’s snooping now?", your voice fills Azriel’s ear as he slowly turns to you. Arms crossed as you grin at him. He wonders why you hadn’t mentioned that night in your room. Why you brushed it off so easily. “I just needed to stretch my wings." It’s not so much of a lie. It had been a disaster of a trip here. You barely manage to open your lips when an unfamiliar voice comes from behind, “Yn, Yn.“
Azriel pushes you behind him, his hand reaching for his dagger. But you slip out of his grasp, glancing over his shoulder. And then you’re stepping forward. “Makoa?”, it’s a whisper, and Azriel doubts that a disheveled-looking boy would hear it. But he does. And that name alone makes Azriel uneasy. The same boy you had sneaked out with. And just like that Azriel decides that he hates Makoa.
"Wait," you push again Azriel's arm, but his grip doesn’t falter. “Anyone can be a threat," the spymaster points out. “I know him," and it’s the desperation that makes Azriel back up. The same one that he had when he called out to Mor. To Elain. The lost kind. One that had you hanging up on things that weren’t there.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you," Makoa mutters once he is in arms reach of you. Azriel has to bite his tongue because nothing about that statement seems genuine. “You can imagine it’s been busy over here," and your voice is different too. Hazy almost. You bite at Azriel. Spewing venom. And here, this boy makes you behave like a youngling with your first-ever crush. “You could have written to me; I’ve missed you." Makoa raises his hand, and Azriel instantly inches to step forward, but then the boy is leaning in, his lips brushing over yours. Making Azriel lower his head. A strange sort of feeling brews within him. One that’s not welcome here. So he turns back onto his heel, heading deeper into the woods. To clear his consciousness. His logical thinking. His heart.
“Everyone missed you," Makoa points out, your hands clasped in his. The feeling is strange. It’s all so wrong because, yes, he has been vocal about courting you, but this… To be kissed in front of someone he doesn’t even know. You glance back. Eyes scanning the front gardens. He’s not there. Azriel isn’t there, and a dreadful sort of uneasiness pools in your stomach.
“It’s just been a couple of days," you brush his statement off. You were trying to find joy in something you had dreamed of ever since you slipped that book beneath the floorboards. “You’re behaving strangely," Makoa mutters, his hand reaching out for your forehead, but you bat it away. “I’m just tired," but you’re more than tired. You need answers, and quite frankly, you’re willing to do about anything to get them.
You can trust the man in front of you. His mother used to do laundry for your family. Until Beron changed his mind or whatever happened. As if reading your mind, Makoa reaches up, cupping your cheek, “What is it you can tell me?" A part of you is screaming to just drop it. Talk to Azriel first. But then he wasn’t there. He wouldn’t know.
“Do you remember the night on the harvest moon, well after it?”, you say quietly, looking over your shoulder for servants. “I walked you home," Makoa shrugs. Well, he did more than that, but sure, that will do for now. “Someone was waiting for me," you admit. “I didn’t go inside; I went to the barn to feed the horses." It was misty and cold outside. You didn’t catch their face. Just a hooded figure.
“I... someone tried to slice my throat open." Brushing your hair to the side, you let the white line shine in the midday sun. Makoa watches. But he doesn’t frown. There’s almost no reaction. Azriel looked more concerned when you caught him brushing his fingers over it that night. Genuine concern. Or maybe you were just imagining it.
Makoa brings you into his chest. “What a shame," he breathes out, and your hands are instantly pushing against his chest. "Pardon," you huff, brows knit together. “I mean, it’s horrible, yes," he says, lifting his arms in defiance. You shake your head. Too tired. Too tired for this. After all, you didn’t expect him to take you seriously. He was too wild. Too carefree for that.
"Look, just be careful, okay?", you mutter, your eyes searching him, but he only shoots you a wicked smile. “You don’t have to worry about me," he muses. You burn to tell him that you both are no longer kids. There are serious matters, but you don’t have it in you to fight another battle today. “I’ll see you in the party," you say as you step back, letting your fingers slip out of his grasp. But then he’s pulling you back. Hand on the side of your face. An eager kiss smothered against your lips, “I wouldn’t miss the spectacle.”
Azriel’s task this weekend was easy. If he was being honest, he didn’t quite grasp why exactly he was asked to come. But then Eris might have just done it to spite him. All he was responsible for was keeping an eye on you when Eris and Lucien couldn’t. So essentially, babysit a grown woman. Now he was standing with his back against your door. Throwing his knife up and down in his hands. Trying to beat his record of spins before it lands back into his palm.
“Okay, am...", your voice breaks the second-floor silence, making Azriel pause. “Can you get Maria?”, Azriel shakes his head even if you can’t see him, “She just went outside for the flower arrangements." The elderly woman had pinched his cheek way too many times, but as much as he hated it, she reminded Azriel of his own mom.
"Fuck," the sound of things falling inside the room, makes Azriel press his ear to the door.“What’s going on?”, he demands. Silence falls. “I...", you start, but it ends with a frustrated sigh. “Well, let’s hear it," he muses, hoping for yet another privileged little dig he could throw back at you.
“I can’t reach the back of the dress to do the..." It’s a whisper. A frustrated one at that. “We have twenty minutes," Azriel points out. “I know, tree man, I know," you growl in frustration, cursing to yourself as you continue to struggle.
“I'm coming in," Azriel states, instantly frowning at his own words. "No, you are not," you snarl, and he is sure that you are frowning. “On three," the spymaster warns. But he doesn’t even get a chance to start the countdown. “Fucking, Azriel,” you say, yanking the door open. Rosy cheeks. Slightly disheveled hair. And that deep red satin dress. So far different from the one he had seen you in the first time you both met. That was a girl. This… You were meant to be in red. In…
“Eyes up here, moron," you say, reaching up to flick his nose. One arm holding the material upfront. You turn away from him. The smooth back exposed to his scared hands. Azriel shakes those thoughts away. “I’ve seen females before," he states, reaching for the golden buttons. “Really? I would have taken you for a virgin," you snort, shaking your head ever so slightly. Azriel fake gasps, earning a glimmer in your eyes. “What is that supposed to mean?”, he says in the most dramatic way possible. You bite your lip, trying to hide that smile. He knows it. Feels it.
“Just do the dress up," you urge him, motioning to your back. Azriel halts, letting his hands drop to his side. “Start with a please," he says proudly. You glance up at him, “Are you being serious?” Surely a man who just completed about the amount of time you had wasn’t going to start playing games. “I decided that etiquette lessons are in order," he shrugs, making you roll your eyes. “I will spit in your drink tonight. How is that for your etiquette lessons?” You flash him one of your fake smiles. “Delightful, just how I like it," and it’s so unexpected that you are left slack-jawed for a split second, and then he grabs your shoulder and turns you around, nudging you forward. “You’re disgusting," you say, pushing your heel against his leg, making a little rumble of laughter fill the space. “Says you," he breathes practically against your skin, sending shivers down your back.
You fidget with your sleeve as you and Azriel make your way towards the main part of the event. Public outings still felt strange. The big crowd overwhelmed you. But you had missed out on so many great things and parties, especially when you were growing up. That now….
“Only a weirdo disappears like that," you halt suddenly, leaving Azriel to walk along until he too stops. Turning to face you. You quickly put a finger against your lips, stepping closer to the second-floor railing. “That’s what I told Makoa”. You know those voices. You don’t even need to look down the staircase to know who they belong to.
“Daddy beat her, I heard," and it’s like someone dumped a bucket of ice water on you. Tingles spread through your body like fire.“ She lived beneath the floorboards; I doubt she knows how to interact with living things." You let the words slash at you. After so many years, they don’t make a difference. It’s the fact that every time you feel as if you found someone willing to look past it, they still end up stabbing you in the back.
That’s when your eyes fall on Azriel, practically charging towards the stairs. "Don't," you hiss, reaching to grab at his wrist, pulling him back. “It’s disrespectful, and I’m being very polite with my words here," he grunts. Venom. Purest of venom painting his features, and yet you cut him off. “I said don't," you step in front of him, pressing your palms against his chest. “It’s just another joke for them. You throwing a fit and acting all gruff won’t change a thing.”
Azriel watches you for a moment before a bitter laugh crawls up his throat. “And those are your friends? People that you think are not a threat to you? ”, he points downstairs in frustration. A wave of guilt. Shame. Fills you in seconds. You feel that familiar sting in your eyes. But you brush it beneath all the other pain. “Daddy got them for me; I didn’t have a chance to choose; my apologies," you purr through gritted teeth.
And it’s as if you threw a comeback punch. The arrow shooting once again. Azriel’s shoulders sag. “Yn...", he breathes out, but you don’t want it. Don’t want pity. The sad eyes. The smothering. To hell with it. “We should go find my brothers." You pick at the skirt of your dress, turning to the stairs. “It was insensitive of me," Azriel’s words slam into the wall you had built, making you close your eyes for a moment. “Don’t get tangled in this; this has nothing to do with you," you mutter, not turning back to face him. Forcing your legs forward. Azriel stands at the top of the staircase for a heartbeat, watching you. Then he glances over his shoulder. One heartbeat. Two. And he unleashes his shadows to the first floor.
The terrace is buzzing with people. If it were up to Azriel, he would be right by the platform, but there are Eris’s guards here. So he’s just standing by. That prick had it in him to suggest wine. Azriel, of course, took it. Before dumping it right next to Eris’s shoes. Rhys told him to behave, yes. And so he was, because the second option was to punch the fireling in his face. Pick and choose.
Azriel catches a glimpse of you. Well, more like all he had been doing was catching glimpses of you. Like a moth to a flame. Even if he tells himself not to, his eyes always seem to find you. That distant look in your eyes. Like you’re not here, even if your body is. He also doesn’t doubt that it’s partly because of the things the people said. Why not fight back? You seem to be fine doing that when it comes to him. But crumple the moment the people who are meant to be closest to you are involved.
As if by coincidence, your eyes glance up, meeting Azriel’s. He should be scowling, yet he finds himself smiling. Just a little. He puts a finger beneath his chin, pushing it higher. Encouragement of sorts. You’re supposed to radiate power, not look like a damsel in distress. You return it with an eye roll, making the corners of Azriel’s lips curve even more. Deny it or not. You do lift your head up. That tingle of fire blazing just a bit brighter. That will do. It would have to be enough to get you through it.
The music dies, and Eris walks close to the platform edge, that fox-line smile on his face. “It’s an honor to have you all here, so I thank you for finding time to join us," the high lord begins. “I know that the court is facing some challenging times, but you should not be afraid." Azriel crosses his arms over his chest as he listens. “I will do everything that is in my power to protect our people and be a true and fair high lord." Then the Autumn High Lord turns back breathy. “And... I’ll have my family to aid me in these matters," motioning for his two siblings to come to stand closer. “Lucien and Y/n Vanserra will be taking their rightful place on the throne." The crowd explodes with chairs and joyful applause. As the three siblings smile in unison.
“And…”, But there’s no and. Nothing comes after it. As if someone had stolen all of the other promises. Azriel feels it too. It hits his senses. Making them restless. There’s something wrong. Something that doesn’t feel right. A banner behind the platform bursts into flames. The hot tongues, lapping at the family insignia. Some people back up. Eris waves for his guards, ordering them into action. People are bringing buckets full of water while Eris and Lucien try to wield the wildfire.
It’s the lightest of the sounds that follow next. It flickers, and... "Y/n," Azriel calls, making you snap your head sideways. “Y/n," he breathes out, and then he’s winnowing. His hands already stretched out. He has to make it. He will make it. There is no other option. So Azriel doesn’t let the what-ifs set in. Shrieks echo. Chaos breaks out. And then he’s up there. On the platform. One arm behind your body, the other on the arrow.
The time stops. Your wide eyes are looking at him. Green so deep that Azriel knows he has never seen anything like it. The freckles seem even darker now that your skin has paled almost to snow white. His fingers are trembling. He can’t see it. Can’t fucking see it; the bunched-up fabric is making it hard to judge. Had the arrow met its target? Your heart seems to beat beneath his palm. But are those the last beats? Then the red fabric turns an even deeper shade of red.
Every muscle tenses in Azriel’s body. "No," he mutters under his breath. He’s not letting you die just like that. Not on his watch. Not in some pointless death just because someone has a bone to pick with your brother. Your eyelashes flutter, and just for a heartbeat, Azriel is too slow to catch you. Your body sags, but the arrow stays there in Azriel’s head. It didn’t meet its target. Not fully, at least. Just nicked the skin. It feels as if someone rolled a mountain off of his chest.
"Azriel," it’s so light he almost misses it. The plea. The fear. Your fingers reach up for his leg. His darkness swirls around you both. And quite frankly, the spymaster is not too sure as to what’s going on outside. The world might as well be going to shit for all he cares. Kneeling, Azriel takes hold of your trembling hands, “I’ve got you, darling; I won’t let anything happen to you." He’s not sure if you even hear him. Eyes fixed on something as if you’re looking right past him.“I'm here; I'm with you," Azrie promises, moving to drape your arms over his shoulders. “Are you with me, love?” You’ve gone into shock, that he can tell. Yet you blink. Fingers gripped onto his flying leathers as you nod. "Good," he says, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, “Hold onto me, fireheart”.
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Taglist: @emryb @glitterypirateduck @xxtakeachancexx @justyouraveragekleemain @5onedirection5 @paleidiot
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I come bearing another potential "sequel" idea. Obviously you don't have to write this. I randomly thought back to the "Sebastian with a reverse PA" story and, well...
Let's say f!MC decides she wants to return the favor, in a way. She decides to get a piercing of her own that can help stimulate them both. My mind says either a tongue piercing or a fourchette piercing, but that's completely up to you if you decide you like this idea 🤭
Anyways, she gets it and it becomes so hard not to ruin the surprise and she's holding off because it's still healing. She has to keep coming up with excuses for why they can't (too tired, have to study, etc). Both Seb and MC are sexually frustrated so by the time she feels it's healed enough, it's feral while also trying to be careful with both piercings.
(I'm just realizing how both my requests have a bit of a theme to them. Don't know what that says about me 🤣 Anyways, much love 💜)
Piercings pt3 - Sebastian Sallow X F!MC
🔥 NSFW 🔞 MDNI
My lovely cyan1de, your brain is absolutely filthy and I love it 🫶🏻. I’ve taken your inspo but I changed the piercing to something with a little less heal time for the stories sake. Hope you like it anyway 💕. Thank you as always for the requests!
Warnings: descriptions of healing piercing, please have mercy and if you get a ‘spicy’ piercing let it heal fully/follow aftercare instructions so you don’t get an infection, modern college a/u, unprotected p-in-v, oral f receiving, mattress fucking?
2k words
Things had been incredible between them. While they had no label per say, they very much went on dates, spent the night with each other and hooked up fairly regularly.
She knew his birthday was only a few weeks away and while he swore he only wanted to spend the day with her and refused gift ideas, she had a fun little idea that had manifested after a saucy conversation or two about piercings.
After talking plenty about his she’d decided to ask what he’d think if a partner were to get one. He chuckled and gave her a wild playful look, hair messy from the combination of sweat and her fingers carding through it. “Wouldn’t mind it. What? You thinking about getting one?”
She’d only shrugged playfully, pretending to mull it over. She couldn’t deny the fact that she had in fact been thinking about getting a piercing ever since their first encounter. “Well if you do decide you want one-“ he paused to wiggle his brows and glanced at her bare chest “or two…I think it would be hot. But don’t feel like you need one just because I got one.”
She’d of course done her research of healing and pain and decided her top contender was a VCH piercing. Between the benefits, healing time, and the aesthetics of it she decided that would be the piercing she got.
Her roommate had agreed to go with her and hold her hand while she got it done, all kinds of on board for her and Sebastian since she seemed to be really happy since they’d started hooking up.
Thankfully the piercing wasn’t too painful, a big pinch and a bit of soreness but nothing she couldn’t handle. Her roommate had been hysterically laughing since she’d gotten home to look at it and her first words uttered were “She’s so pretty!”.
The next day Sebastian had tried to come over between classes for a bit of midday fun. But she’d quickly made the excuse that she was really tired and needed a nap. She’d also carefully evaded going back to his after a coffee date by saying she had to do some extra studying.
Luckily she’d been able to just get away with a good blowjob for him on the couch during their movie night at his place later in the week. He’d started to get a little suspicious after about two weeks of evaded sexual encounters or only blowjobs. “You know you can talk to me right? Like if something is wrong…is something wrong?”
She quickly waved him off just saying she’s been having some hormone changes which have made her tired and have a lower libido. In all honesty she was having an incredibly hard time telling him no, but she was almost halfway through the recovery and was determined to surprise him with her new piercing. “Love, is this because of your period?” He’d said while nipping the spot just below her ear, grinding against her thigh. “You know I don’t mind a bit of blood, I’ll still take good care of her. I promise.”
She of course already knew this since they’d already had period sex and he hadn’t been deterred in the slightest. Of course he’d been all too accommodating of her surge of desires during her ovulating week though.
He whispered incredibly sweet things and treated her like a princess but they definitely were a very sexually active couple. So when his hands began to wander when she stayed the night just a few days into her third week of healing she was losing her battle.
He whispered raunchy filth into her ear, rubbing and grinding against her inner thigh and moving closer to her crotch. One intense drag against her had her wincing and her mouth falling open.
Sebastian immediately stopped, cupping her face in his palms. “What’s wrong, love? Did I hurt you? Are you okay?”
She finally broke down, just three days before his birthday she felt like it was unavoidable at this point. She flashed a shy smile, looking up at him cheekily. “So you know how I talked to you about getting a piercing right?”
Sebastian’s lust lidded eyes popped and she swore she saw them sparkle. “You didn’t.” He looked down between them as if he’d see it through her clothes. He looked back up with wide eyes. “Holy shit…what did you get pierced?”
She laughed and rolled him off of her, carefully shimmying out of her pajama shorts and spreading her legs for him. “Surprise! Happy Birthday.”
His eyes darkened and he looked up, licking his lips. “Gods I’ve missed your pussy…and now she’s all pretty for me. God you know you didn’t have to do that.”
She smiled, blushing as he looked back down in awe. “I wanted it. It wasn’t just for you, promise. What do you think?”
He licked his lips again and she practically moaned from the look on his face. “How long till it’s healed?”
She bit into her bottom lip nervously. “Healing time is 4-8 weeks and it’s been 3 weeks and 4 days.”
His eyes widened. “You got it to be healed perfectly on my birthday…” he crawled up the side of her body, holding her neck carefully in his palm and he whispered against her lips. “Naughty girl.”
He kissed her deeply, tasting her and groaning into their kiss. She could feel his arousal against her thigh and it had her moaning into his kiss. He pulled back, eyes dark and lusty. “You can’t make those sounds, not when I still need to let that pretty little pussy heal up baby.”
She practically whined against his lips. The soreness had long since disappeared and she knew if she kept things clean that it would likely be fine for them to fool around a bit. She pushed at him till he was shoved out of bed and standing beside it, confused. “You’ve showered, right?”
He nodded, a confused tilt of his chin as she waved him towards the bathroom. His gray shorts doing very little to cover all the freckles littering his skin or the bulging mass thickening between his legs. “Go wash your hands then come back to bed.”
His eyes bulged and he hurried to the bathroom. He came back quickly, sliding into bed with her. She could smell his hand soap and smiled up at him as he crowded over her. “What are you comfortable doing? I don’t want to hurt you.”
She reached between them, palming his erection through the sweatpants he wore and hummed softly with approval. “I need this tonight, that is, if you’ll give it to me.”
He ground against her hand, leaning down to nuzzle into her neck and inhale her scent. He groaned, rolling his hips harder before frustration pulled somewhere inside him and he reached down to free his aching cock. It sprung free, cool air kissing his swollen leaking tip, silver barbell glinting in the low light. “Gods I’ve needed your pussy.”
She giggled breathily as he notched himself at her entrance, sitting up to watch the head of himself disappearing, his eyes fixed eagerly on her brilliant new piercing. His mouth practically watered with the urge to roll his tongue against it, use his tongue to flick the jewelry over her sensitized clit. “Does it increase your stimulation?”
She nodded, gasping as the head of his cock sunk inside. She was tight from their lack of fucking and she felt him pulse excitedly from inside of her walls. “Y-yes, even just cleaning it and looking at it in the shower, whenever I bump it, feels so good.”
He groaned in agony, shutting his eyes and sliding another inch or so inside, rolling his hips to increase her friction and spread the wetness. “Gods your so fucking tight. Been too long since you've been stretched around my cock, love.”
She nodded, gripping his shoulders. His hand slid down, barely pressing against the jewelry and she cried out, legs wrapping around his waist. Holding himself back was going to be a feat and a half.
He sunk the rest of the way inside her and she constricted around him. He nudged the jewelry against her clit again and her head tossed backwards in pleasure. The sight of her falling into pleasure was absolutely breathtaking. He groaned, adjusting to straddle on leg, bringing the other so her knee hooked up over his shoulder, now spread apart his pubic bone ground against the piercing and had her moans heightening in pitch.
His thrusts were slow rolls that casually surged to desperately needy thrusts that he couldn’t hold back no matter how badly he tried. She felt far too good and it had been far too long. “God you’re cock, oh and the way your r-rubbing the piercing. Fuck, I’m gonna cum!”
He chuckled as she gripped the sheets and arched up as she tightened like a vice around him. He tried to keep a cocky tone in his voice but it came out far more strained than he’d hoped. “Oh yea? Already, baby? That little piercing really does help you out, doesn’t it?”
He pressed a thumb right over the jewelry and she lurched up, practically shrieking as she rippled around him, crashing over her edge so fast. He groaned, surging his hips through her orgasm till she finally stilled, loud cries dulling to whimpering coos.
He pulled out of her, having her look down at him in hazy confusion as he settled, laying himself between her legs, spreading her warm thighs open in front of him. She flushed all the way from her cheeks to her thighs as he groaned, spreading her open and grinding his hips against the bed, glutes flexing and drawing her attention before he whispered in a gruff tone. “Fuck it.”
He dove in, licking her cunt from her silky wet opening and up to her newly decorated clit. He moaned at the taste and she frantically reached for the mass of fluffy hair. “S-Seb you can’t! You just fucked me there!”
He made another groan, rolling his hips steadily against the mattress. “I don’t care. This pussy is mine and I’ll eat it whenever I want to. I don’t care if your fresh out of the shower or freshly fucked and filled with my cum. I’ll taste you whenever the fuck I feel like it.”
Heat pooled deliciously between her legs as his tongue flicked precariously over the jewelry through her hood. He teased it over her clit, ran his tongue below it and tortured her with direct pressure that had her absolutely wild and all the while his hips never stopped against the bed.
The sight from between her legs had her quickly climbing the rungs of another orgasm. Her tugs in his hair became more urgent as her toes curled against the warm blankets and her thighs bracketed his head as she arched up into his talented tongue.
She came, shuddering and loose against his face and she didn’t stop till finally he lifted his head, licking her shiny wetness from his lips and chin.
Her eyes bulged when he sat up and she saw the strings of cum trailing from his cock to the blanket. Had he really fucked their sheets till he came while eating her out?
His eyes met hers and he glanced to where she was looking, chuckling and using that low satisfied tone that made her tingle. “How about I change the sheets while you shower off so everything stays clean?”
She swallowed, nodding and getting up into shaking feet and padding into his bathroom while he tossed sheets into the wash. He joined her and a whole new fresh wave of arousal rising inside of her as his erection slipped between the cleft of her ass and she was suddenly wondering if the slap of his balls against her clit as he fucked her from behind would feel as good as it sounded.
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